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Elise studied her for a moment. “Then why did you decide to stay?”

“Because I’ve found happiness in this house,” she admitted with a faint smile. “And I decided that I won’t let that man ruin my life twice.”

A frown of concern was still etched on Elise’s forehead. “Have you told Uncle about him?”

“No.” Honoria shook her head.

“Well, you should.” Elise nodded with conviction. “He will protect you, I am certain.”

A wistful smile tugged at Honoria’s lips. “I don’t know if he can.”

“He can, and he will!” Elise insisted, grabbing Honoria’s hand. “He is very powerful. Yes, he is very reserved, quiet, and sometimes awkward, but he is strong-willed and does not back down. He stood up for us against our old cruel governess. He won’t let anyone mistreat you either.” Her voice softened. “And he… He adores you.”

Honoria chuckled softly, then reached out to tuck a strand of Elise’s hair behind her ear. “Adore might be a strong word.”

“No, truly.” Elise’s eyes were earnest. “He doesn’t like many people. But he likes you. And you like him, too, don’t you?”

Honoria laughed. “Are you trying to matchmake?”

Elise swallowed, her shoulders hunched, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable. “Well, if Uncle were going to marry anyone, I’d rather it be you. Robbie and Rosie think so, too. That way, you would have the protection of an earl’s name.” She hesitated. “And then… we would be a real family.”

The words tugged at the strings of Honoria’s heart. She wanted nothing more than that. Looking at Elise’s hopeful face, she could almost imagine it—a life here, permanently, not as a governess but as the mistress of this house. A mother to these children.

But she knew that was impossible. She could never marry Jacob or openly be a part of their family. She was already a countess. Presumed dead. Unable to show her face in public.

What scandal would erupt if the truth came out? What danger would it bring to this household she’d grown to love?

Instead, she squeezed Elise’s hand and said, “Should we finish trying on the rest of the dresses?”

Elise studied her face, no doubt sensing the evasion, but then smiled. “Yes.”

* * *

Supper.

Parlor.

Bedtime story.

Honoria waited hours for Jacob to retire to his room at the end of the night so she could talk to him without distractions.

When he finally did, she rushed to his room, not giving herself a chance to back down.

He was in the process of undoing his shirt when she entered, the top buttons open to reveal a glimpse of his throat. He froze at the sight of her, surprise flickering across his features before he composed himself.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said, his voice rough.

Honoria closed the door behind her, suddenly very aware of the rudeness of her entry. She pushed past the awkwardness. “Why not?”

“I thought you were avoiding me.” His hands dropped to his sides, no longer working at his buttons.

She grimaced, twisting her fingers together nervously. “I was. But not for the reasons you think. I was dying to speak with you but didn’t want to be interrupted. And we always seem to be interrupted.” She was rambling. Oh, God. She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. And it…” she swallowed hard, “it will take a lot of time.”

Jacob’s expression softened. He gestured toward the armchair by the hearth where a small fire still burned. “Would you like to sit?”

She looked at the cushioned chair for a moment, but her restless energy would not allow her to sit still. She shook her head.

“Very well.” He leaned against the wall by the window, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What do you need to tell me?”