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Lancelot chose that moment to defend her from Pericles. Tumbling off her lap, he bounced on his short, pudgy legs around the stallion’s mighty hooves, yipping ferociously.

Pericles’ nostrils flared, and his eyes widened and rolled at Ian as if to say, “What an annoying, inferior little rodent. Please do remove him from my noble presence.”

Ian scooped up the pup and deposited him wriggling and barking in protest, onto Vangie’s lap. She smiled at the brave, if somewhat misguided antics of her new charge.

He swept a calming hand the length of Pericles’ neck. “You misunderstand me, sweeting.”

She skirted her gaze away from his again. The deep purr of his voice stirred her purposefully buried sentiments. Why couldn’t she be done with him? Why did her optimistic heart yet hold a smidgeon of hope?

“I’ve purchased horseflesh from Tobar and must arrange for their transfer.” He tapped his thigh in the same manner he had the day they’d become betrothed. “I also need to update my steward and leave him with my directives for an extensive absence.”

“That seems wise.” Absence? He’s not staying at Somersfield? Disappointment wrenched her. London then. She hadn’t expected that.

“And truth to tell, Vangie, if I have to wear this clothing one more day, I’ll go mad.”

“You might have borrowed—”

Ian’s elevated eyebrow halted the suggestion. No, she couldn’t picture him asking Besnik or any of the others for a change of clothing. Ian was taller and leaner than the Romani men. She suspected pure pride prevented him from asking anything more from them. They’d housed and fed him for nearly two weeks.

Ian tapped his thigh with his hat again. He did that when he was nervous or aggravated. “Vangie?” Thwap went the hat. “Lucinda’s bizarre behavior has me truly concerned.” Thwap. Thwap. “I want to assign someone, a trusted servant or perhaps even an agent, to watch her.”

Slanting her head, Vangie frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t trust her in the least. I think she may have slipped into complete madness. She’s always been a bit unhinged.” Thwap. Ian’s gaze meshed with hers. “I fear she may be dangerous.”

“Oh.” Oh? That’s it? Ian suspected Lucinda was dicked in the nob, and all she could say was, “Oh.”?

Mayhap because all she really cared about was that he was leaving her.

In fact, Ian wished Ewan McTavish was available right now. He excelled at covert operations and spying. Ian should’ve returned to Somersfield days ago, but he couldn’t bear to leave Vangie. This was the first time she’d said more than one or two words to him in over a week.

“I’ll return sometime this evening,” he promised.

She seemed absorbed with the pup plopped in her lap, but her white-knuckled hands atop the dog revealed otherwise. She still wore his ring on her finger, and relief swept over him. If she looked up, she’d see the love he couldn’t hide brimming in his eyes.

Neck bowed, her dejection was tangible. Did her lips tremble?

He considered her for an extended, searching moment.

Ah, it came to him then. She didn’t believe he’d return. She thought he was abandoning her. Squatting, Ian gently cupped her chin and tilted it upward. Her gaze, riddled with suspicion and doubt, reluctantly met his.

Staring into her expressive eyes, the blue flecks in the irises as deep and dark as any ocean, Ian reassured her. “Sweeting, I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay with you here or travel with you wherever you,” his gaze roved the encampment before returning to her, “or they go.”

Her eyes widened.

Was she pleased?

“You’re my wife. We belong together.” He rubbed his finger over her ring. “It matters not to me if it’s at Somersfield, London, or the circuit your family travels. I shall not forsake you.”

Vangie’s eyes misted, and the tiniest smattering of hope sputtered in Ian’s soul where it flickered dim, but intrepid.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I care not where I live, as long as I’m with you. Even if you’re never able to forgive me, or can never love me in return.”

A tear balancing precariously in the corner of her eye toppled over the edge. It trailed down her cheek where he caught it with his forefinger. A subtle shifting in her eyes gave him courage.

He grazed her lips with a feather-light, butterfly-wisp of a kiss. The corners of his mouth slanting upward, he leaned back. Her eyes remained closed, her mouth parted. Pressing a firmer kiss to her forehead, he patted the playful pup—who had been chewing on the buttons of his coat the whole while. Ian levered to his feet in a swift, fluid motion. “Goodbye, Vangie.”

His boot was already in the stirrup when her soft voice crossed the distance between them.

“Latcho drom. Goodbye, Ian.”

Swinging into the saddle, he brought Pericles around, reining in the prancing horse. The muscles in his thighs bunched as he held his mount with his knees. “I give you my word. I shall return.”

Ian sent her a penetrating look. With his gaze he tried to communicate the feelings he knew she wouldn’t believe if he spoke them aloud. He kicked his heels into the stallion’s sides and, with one hand lifted in farewell, they bolted across the meadow.

The time had come to deal with his stepmother.