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“Youfound him?”

“Slumped over the desk.”

“Oh, shit, Tom. I’m sorry.”

“He thought he alone had to carry this great weight. I’d argued with him too, a lot. While Duncan was off calling the ambulance—though the situation was obviously well past that—I stupidly promised my father I’d save the estate. I don’t think he heard, but … I knew I had a year, only I couldn’t. I only found out the extent of our debts after he died.” Tom withdrew his hand from hers and walked to the window, jamming his hands in hiscoat pockets instead. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, when you’re about to…”

“You’re not just leaving the past behind.” She looked at the plan of the façade. “You’re letting go of this grand future.”

He turned his head and looked at her, curiously. “I’m okay with this, Amelia. It’s been on the cards my whole life.”

“You’re allowed to admit that it hurts. I can see it does.”

He pressed his lips together. “Dreams are easy. The work it would take to get it there… Not to mention the money. You said before it was all a bit Stephen King? Well, I wanted to makeThe Shininginto the Ritz.”

“But it’s personal, too,” she said, approaching him. “A home is sacred. An extension of yourself. This has been a home to so many, but now it’syourhome. You have a pretty intense personal relationship with her—she’s not just stone and shingle.”

She ran a hand down his nearest arm, not a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t reject it. But he turned slightly toward her, and she took it as an invitation to hug him. It was hard to offer physical comfort to someone who towered over her, but he dropped his chin onto her shoulder and hugged her back and she wrapped her arms around him as firmly as she could. This hug was purely for him, and she was only too happy to give back. He was lonely and hurting, and she was only beginning to understand how deeply. He put up such a blithely confident front.

“Miss Havisham and my family…” he began, his breath playing with her hair. “Our relationship is complicated. And dysfunctional. Over time, for every life that’s lived here, there is a death. Yin and yang. Good and bad. It evens out, like a great balance sheet.” He pulled away and held her forearms. “And all this,” he said firmly, with a smile that appeared forced, “is way too much information. The more important thing is…” Hecrossed the room and opened a compartment in the vacuum he’d left on the chair. “I found your keys.” He pulled them out with a flourish and brushed hair and dust from them. “They must have dropped out of your pocket when you fell down the stairs, and the basement vacuum cleaner picked them up on its nightly rounds. They got caught up in the mechanism—that was the jangling I heard. At least that’s one thing that has a logical explanation.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said dully, taking them.

This was it, then.

Tom seemed to be on the verge of speaking, but instead he ran a hand through his hair in a decidedly “foppish” way. An image flashed into her mind: leaning over him in bed and running her fingers through his hair before dropping down to kiss him. Feeling his hands grip her bare hips.Whoa. It turned out that aphrodisiac was still working.

She closed her eyes, and it felt like the room and everything in it was glowing in warm light, including her, especially her.

“Amelia?” Tom said.

She flicked her eyes open. He was looking at her with concern.

“Yeah, well, I guess I’d better… I’d better hit the road. Unless … you want me to stay to help look for Duncan?”

Again, he looked like he was about to say something, and then he jammed his lips together. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “I’m sure he’s fine. I’ll go for a drive around the estate. I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I shouldn’ttraumatizeyou any longer.”

“I don’t mind, honestly. I mean, I don’t mind staying—I’d rather not be traumatized.”

“I’ll be fine. Well! You know where to find me,” he said, with a breezy finality that added a couple of pounds to the weight in her belly. This was the part she’d intended to avoid when she’dwoken up. “Oh, bollocks, you actually don’t. Not after next week.Idon’t even know where I’ll find me.” He grabbed a pad of sticky notes from the desk and located a pen. “Let me write down my contact details in case, you know, you remember anything significant about last night.”

“Sure, yeah, thanks.” She noted he didn’t say, “I’d love to see you again.”

He finished writing, tore off the piece of paper, took her hand, and placed it in her palm, like some kind of ceremony. If not for the lingering question about Duncan’s whereabouts, she might decline to take it. She was already in enough of a holding pattern without pining for a guy she’d spent one very intense night with. As they’d established, attraction was not a feeling to be trusted. She needed less uncertainty in her life, not more. They’d had a moment. A good one, mostly. But it was a moment that belonged in a fixed time and place. Like he said, time was fleeting. The moment had passed.

From the doorway, Xanthe cleared her throat. She was watching them with a deeply curious expression. “I’m off then. Tourists have already cleared out. Back after the weekend for the last tours. Got some wedding plans to rearrange, now we can no longer get married here.” Her tone was slightly accusatory.

“Have a good weekend,” Tom called, as she left. “You should go too,” he said to Amelia. “There’s fog rolling in. In an hour or so it’ll be thick as…”

“Pea soup?” she finished.

“I’ve never seen pea soup in my life. I was going to say cotton wool. Watch for pockets of it on the drive back. It creeps up on you. In fact, maybe you should…”

She waited. Maybe she shouldstay?

“Just … be careful,” he finished.

“I will.” She swallowed. “And, uh, good luck with everything.”