She blinked rapidly to confirm that it wasn’t just her mind playing cruel jokes on her. It wasn’t.
For a beat too long, neither of them moved.
The street seemed to fall away. Sound dulled, as though the rain itself had withdrawn out of politeness. All she could feel was the heat of his palm through damp wool, the solid line of him holding her upright as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Then awareness flooded in all at once. Her skin tingled at his touch, his proximity, the intimate quiet created by his presence.
She straightened abruptly, stepping back out of his hold, the loss of contact oddly disorienting. Her cheeks warmed despite the cold.
“Thank you,” she said briskly. “That was careless of me.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. “Though I’d argue the stones bear more blame than you.”
Do not look at him like that.
She flexed her fingers in a bid to distract herself. “What are you doing here?”
There it was. It was better that way—no pleasantries or pretense.
Edward did not answer at once, and the pause scraped at her nerves. She had the absurd sense that he was deciding whether to tell her the truth or not.
His mouth curved—not quite a smile, but something close. “I didn’t come all this way merely to prevent you from falling.”
Her pulse stuttered.
She lifted her chin. “Then why?”
“I came to find you.”
The words landed heavily beneath her ribs.
She let out a quiet, incredulous breath. “Find me.”
“Yes.”
She gestured toward the orphanage behind her. “You could have asked. I wasn’t hiding.”
“No,” he said evenly. “But you were moving. And I needed to see you before you did again.”
The driver cleared his throat.
Beatrice ignored him. “Edward, if this is about courtesy?—”
“It isn’t.”
“If it’s about guilt?—”
“It isn’t that either.”
Her arms folded across her chest before she consciously decided to do it, a barrier she had learned to erect long before the Duke of Wrexford had entered her life. “Then say what you mean.”
He studied her for a moment, rain gathering at his lashes, his gaze steady and unflinching. “I’m done running.”
Her breath hitched. She forced it back under control. “That’s a curious thing to announce to your wife in the middle of the street.”
“I’m not announcing it,” he said quietly. “I’m correcting it.”
She shook her head. “You left.”
