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Could that be true?

Aunt Jeneva had been utterly ashamed of Emeline’s bastardry. But she had mentioned that distant cousin and hinted Emeline should consider marrying him. It had struck her as odd then, and even more so now.

Surely that meant her aunt had corresponded with family recently.

Mayhap she could hire a companion to accompany her on the journey.

How could she without sufficient funds?

The paltry amount in Aunt Jeneva’s purse wouldn’t begin to cover the expense. But her aunt had money hidden in Edinburgh. Straightening her spine and lifting her chin, she made a decision.

“Liam, I’m returnin’ to Edinburgh. The answers are there. I’m certain of it.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “My aunt hid money in her shop, and any important documents will be there as well. However, I believe it prudent to travel under an assumed name. I shall be Margaret Wilson.”

He scratched his forehead then ran his hands over his beard. His gorgeous gray eyes narrowing to shrewd slits, he gave a thoughtful nod. “I think ye’re right. We can leave in two days’ time.”

“Ye mean it?” Relief flooded her and grateful tears stung her eyes. “Ye’ll go with me?”

She hadn’t dared hoped, and pride prevented her from asking. He’d done so much already. Truthfully, she didn’t want to leave him, dreaded returning to Edinburgh and all the memories awaiting her there. Nevertheless, she must get to the bottom of whatever was going on. It was impossible to go on with her life until she did.

“Jo, I told ye I wouldna abandon ye.”

A tear dribbled from the corner of her eye.

“Dinna cry.” His voice grew rough, and he brushed her cheek with his finger. “I canna bear to see ye distressed.”

A frisson spiraled outward from his touch, and another coiled low in Emeline’s belly. She fought the urge to close her eyes and rub her face against his hand.

Why did he have this power over her?

Why must her heart yearn for a broken, wounded man, incapable of loving anymore?

No, not incapable—unwilling. His wife had ruined him. Such ire heated her blood at the injustice, she bit down hard on her lip.

He cleared his throat and dropped his hand to his knee. His expression became meditative again. “I’ll open up the house in Edinburgh. I think we should ask Kendra, Skye, Quinn, and Broden as well as Mother, too, come along. She can act as chaperone, and she’ll want to oversee the servants, in any event. It will be safer for ye there, and nae one will notice one more person if we arrive en masse. Ye can travel as one of the housemaids.”

Such a production would be sure to draw attention, wouldn’t it? Although, he had a valid point about her blending into the chaos. Or mayhap, he wanted all of those people around because he wanted to make sure they were never alone together.

That hurt. Far more than she could admit to herself.

Rife with reluctance, she bit her lower lip. “I’m loath to ask yer family and friends to inconvenience themselves in such a manner.” She was also horridly conflicted about him. As much as she wanted to spend time in his company—wanted so very much more—his presence was sweet torture.

In this vast house and even vaster rolling lawns and zealously attended gardens, she might admire him from afar. However, in a smaller house, keeping her powerful feelings masked would prove substantially more problematic.

At the moment, the modest, uncomplicated life of a humble seamstress held great appeal.

Liam released a sound, half-snort and half-laugh drawing her from her reveries. As always, her heart kicked up a notch when he laughed. He should do so more often.

She’d love to be the one who caused his happiness and make him enjoy life again. But how did one win the heart of a man determined to rebuff love? A man so wounded, he rejected and scoffed at the very principle of love?

“Kendra will be thrilled,” he said. “And I think Skye could use the distraction. Her father is gravely ill. Mother, on the other hand, hasna been to Edinburgh in years, so she may initially be a mite reluctant.”

“But yer friends? They dinna ken me. Why would they help?” Emeline asked.

“Quinn lives for intrigue, and he has connections that can be verra valuable for things like this. Broden is like a brother to me, and I trust him with my life. He kens I’d do the same for him if he asked. They’ve stayed on here at my behest, to help guard ye.”

Well, that answered that question.

“If ye’ve nae objection, I like to send word to Graeme and Camden Kennedy as well as Logan Rutherford and Coburn Wallace apprisin’ them of what’s occurred. I believe they could be of tremendous help as well.”