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She furrowed her eyebrows into a faint frown. The soft light from the windows cast a shimmer in her irises, turning them a shade richer, deeper. “How did Robyn’s driver get home?”

“I’m not sure.” Shelby shrugged. “Perhaps he walked. It’s not so very far.”

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t empty. It bristled, charged with a dozen unspoken words. He was almost afraid to ask what was so important that Roxina hadn’t wanted to discuss it in Robyn’s presence. On the other hand, a small thrill surged through him—she had sought his company unchaperoned. There was a time when she would have done anything to avoid being alone with him.

She turned away from the window, her expression momentarily uncertain. The hesitance lasted only a blink before vanishing behind a familiar steel of resolve. Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin but curled her fingers at her sides, betraying an unease she likely wished to conceal.

A robin landed in the purple lilac bush just outside the window. Tilting its little orangey-red faced head back and forth, it peered into the study, its tiny black-button eyes filled with equal parts curiosity and wariness.

Roxina firmed her mouth, then spoke in a rush.

“There’s no reason to mince matters. I know you wish for me to stay here, Shelby, but I do not think it is at all practical or appropriate. Matilda is hardly a suitable chaperone. I plan to write to a couple of my friends today and inquire if I might stay with them temporarily.”

Shelby released the air from his lungs with measured control, forcing his stance to remain casual even as tension knotted at the base of his skull. He had hoped she had put that annoying notion out of her mind. The thought of her leaving tightened something in his chest, an irrational frustration he had no right to feel.

You know it’s more than that.

Stubble it, he told his irritatingly honest conscience.

“Matilda could act as a chaperone.” Curving his mouth into a smile, he sought to reassure her without seeming argumentative. “I know it’s not quite the thing, but since no one is supposed to know we’re here—other than Robyn, Matilda, and their servants—it might suit.”

She parted her lips slightly but said nothing.

The amber-gold sunlight shone against her skin, accentuating the delicate line of her throat as she swallowed.

Dash, curled on the rug near the hearth, growled softly in his sleep, his tail twitching idly, but Shelby barely registered the dog’s dreaming. His world had shrunk to the woman before him, to the way she studied his face, searching, weighing his words with that astute mind of hers.

Roxina had always been remarkable.

Stubborn, sharp-witted, and more capable than most men he knew, but beneath that was something rarer still—courage tempered by kindness, strength wrapped in an elegance that had nothing to do with gowns or etiquette.

And, damn him, he cared for her.

Much, much more than he ought.

Hoping to encourage her further, he said, “I know you don’t give a fig about what Society thinks of you, even if some chinwag should learn the truth of it.”

Bristling like an affronted hen, Roxina jutted her stubborn chin out at a mulish angle.

In an instant, Shelby knew he had said the wrong thing—although which part had been the wrong thing, he couldn’t be certain.

“I am aware you have little consideration for my reputation, Shelby, and I am aware that, as a spinster with little prospect of marriage, people might believe I should not care.” Her voice quavered, but she pressed on. “But I do care. Because what I do reflects upon those who care for me.”

“I did not mean to insult you, Roxina.”

“Well, you did.” She took a step forward, her gaze burning into his. “What would happen to Aubriella if rumors circulated that I was engaging in illicit affairs or had been compromised? She has been gracious enough to let me live in her cottage, and I would not have whispers about me tarnish her reputation.”

The camaraderie of the day before seemed to have vanished.

Roxina regarded Shelby with the same mistrust and wariness she had held toward him for years.

He stepped away, then turned so he could face her directly.

“Roxina, I made a vow to myself that I would look after you.”

She opened her mouth, no doubt ready with an eviscerating retort, but he lifted a hand. “No, please. Let me finish.”

Mutiny sparked in her dark brown eyes, but she snapped her mouth shut.