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“And she’s not here,” said Grace.

“What are you saying?”

She held her head up high, her eyes meeting him directly. “We could have something of what we lost all those years ago. We could have an arrangement.”

“I have a wife,” he repeated, shocked she’d even suggest becoming his mistress. As though he’d ever be disloyal to Ina.

“And I have nowhere else to go but Oak Park. My parents are dead, and my brother hardly speaks to me. He’s still resentful I wouldn’t intercede on his behalf when he was selling a piece of land to Richard. There’s no one for me. But we could start again. I know how to run a house like Oak Park. I could be your hostess. People would think you’re being charitable to your brother’s widow. No one would have to know.”

“I would know,” he said sternly. “And I’d never do that to Ina.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before shrugging one of her elegant shoulders. “You’re so certain—a man whose wife has left him.”

He felt sick that she’d thought he might ever be open to such a suggestion. He’d never betray Ina that way. Even knowing she’d walked away, he loved her too dearly.

“Grace, I will happily find you a place in Ashington to live and a companion to keep you company, but I think it would be best if you left Oak Park,” he said.

She rose from her chair and glided over to him. “Your charity isn’t what I’m after. I want you.”

Grace slipped a hand around his neck and moved as though to settle herself on his lap. Gavin jumped out of his chair, knocking her back a few steps.

“You forget yourself,” he said.

“Don’t tell me that you haven’t thought about this,” said Grace with a laugh. “What it would be like.”

“Not for many years, and I don’t intend to start now. I love my wife,” he said.

“And yet she’s gone,” Grace said, taking a step toward him.

He stepped back. “That changes nothing.”

For the first time since he’d arrived at Oak Park, he saw the tiredness around Grace’s eyes. She sighed. “As though there was any doubt I chose the wrong brother, you continue to provide me with more proof.”

“You should go,” he said. He wanted her out of his office. Just being alone with her after she’d suggested starting an affair felt disloyal to Ina.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep away. I’m not a woman who enjoys courting rejection,” said Grace. Out of the pocket of her dress, she pulled a small envelope. “You’ll forgive me for not handing it over right away, but I’d hoped this conversation would end differently.”

He stared at it for a moment, not knowing whether he wanted to take the letter. With a small snort, Grace leaned over and left it on the table.

He was still staring at the envelope when she shut the door behind her. He didn’t trust Grace. She’d learned too many of his mother’s tricks in manipulation.

Blindly, he drew Moray’s letter to him. He’d read that now. Then he’d drink himself into a stupor and wonder how the hell his simple, straightforward life had fallen apart so spectacularly.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“YOU’RE CERTAIN GAVIN’S coming?” Ina asked Moray for what must have been the tenth time that day.

The newspaperman blew out a frustrated stream of air and stared up at her from behind his desk, where he was trying to finish a last set of proofs before disappearing. “Yes. He wrote yesterday to say he’d be on the noon train into Waverley.”

“He’ll be here,” said Eva, placing a hand on Ina’s arm. The two women had met only a few times before because Eva rarely went out in society, but Ina felt a bond with her. The editor was kind and far more ready to trust her than Moray was—although Ina suspected he was slowly coming around. He’d sent the letter, after all.

It had taken Mrs. Sullivan just a few minutes to explain the plan she’d devised to get Gavin to return to Edinburgh, and just a little while longer for Ina to tweak and change it to suit Gavin, for she knew him best. Then they’d hopped in Mrs. Sullivan’s carriage and taken a ride down to the Lothian’s offices. If the matchmaker hadn’t been with her, Ina doubted Moray would’ve let her in, for he’d had a letter from Gavin telling him of her abandonment. However, even Moray couldn’t say no to Mrs. Sullivan, and so he’d called Eva into his office and all four of them had sat down to listen to Ina plead her case.

Now, four days later, she clasped her hands together in front of her and tried her best not to stare at the massive iron clock that hung on the wall of Moray’s office.

“It’s not even eleven forty-five,” Moray said, his voice softening a touch.

“I know,” she murmured.