The last few weeks at Saddleworth had easily been the best of Marc’s life. There was something to be said for going to bed each night and waking up each morning with the one woman he loved. Nothing compared to having Caroline in his bed, in his life, by his side.

Having found the stables early on, Rachel had bonded with Aurore, one of his fillies, and spent a good portion of her days with the Andalusian. Emma and Callie had become inseparable in all things, including French lessons. And everything was exactly what Marc wished the rest of his life could be, except…well, except that Caroline hadn’t come down to breakfast that morning. And he found he did miss her.

So with that thought in mind, he climbed the staircase and made his way down the corridor toward their connected chambers. He knocked lightly, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep.

But she called, “Come in,” very brightly from the other side.

Marc pushed the door open and found her preening in front of the mirror in a soft green dress. Ah, that’s why she hadn’t come downstairs yet. “The new dresses from Driffield arrived?” he guessed aloud.

She nodded but then gestured to the low scoop of her bodice. “I can’t imagine what they think of Miss Gleadhill ordering something like this.”

Marc crossed the floor and then spun her around. “You’re stunning. I don’t care what they think of Miss Gleadhill.”

“Poor Miss Gleadhill, then,” Caroline said with a laugh. Then she grinned up at him. “Do you like it?”

“Aye, it brings out the green flecks in your eyes.” And then he winked at her. “But take it off, Caroline. Let me see if I like you better in nothing at all.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know exactly how you like me.”

“Completely bare, and in my bed,” he agreed.

“Yes, well, about that,” she began and stepped away from him. “I’m worried about the…well, the example we’re setting for our daughters.”

“Example?” he echoed with a frown.

She seemed to take a steadying breath. “I know you never would have brought Rachel, Emma, and me to Saddleworth if it wasn’t out of necessity, but we are here.”

Where the devil was she going with this? “I am happy to have you all here, you know that.”

She swallowed a bit nervously, which wasn’t like her at all. “I kept hoping you would broach the subject, Marc, but you haven’t…”

He did not like the sound in her voice all of a sudden, and an uneasiness settled around him. “Which subject, exactly?”

“Us,” she breathed out. “Our future…together, hopefully.”

Damn it. “Why wouldn’t it be together?” And what the hell did hopefully mean?

“Well, we’ve been living together as a family, all of us, these last weeks. But we aren’t a family. And I need to know if you mean to rectify that.”

“Marriage,” he muttered the word as though it was the vilest of curses.

“You don’t have to say it that way.”

Well, there was really no other way to say the bloody word. “For God’s sake, Caroline. You know I love you.”

“And I love you. So I don’t—”

“I have kept Callie here. I have gone to great lengths to make people believe I don’t care for my daughter. I would never be successful at making them think I don’t care for you, not if we’re married.”

She looked as though he’d struck her and her mouth dropped open. It took her a moment before she asked, “So what is your plan, Marc?”

“Do we have to have a plan?” he asked. “Haven’t things been…pretty close to perfect since we’ve been here?”

She shook her head. “We can’t stay here forever. And the real world is waiting out there for us right now.”

“So when we rejoin the world, we’ll go on as we were before.” He shook his head. “I’ll be by every night and no one ever has to know the truth.”

“So your plan is to sneak through my servants’ entrance every night, make love to me, and escape before the sun rises in the sky?”

She didn’t need to sound quite so waspish about it. “That’s what we were doing.”

“For the rest of our lives?” Her voice hitched. “That’s what you want to do?”

“Have you a better plan?”

“Well, any plan I devise won’t leave my daughters thinking I’m your whore, Marc.”

Whore, indeed. His jaw tightened at those words. That wasn’t what he was suggesting in the least. And she damn well knew it. “Caroline,” he began rather tightly, trying to keep his anger in check. “I have a lifetime of enemies. You know I do. If we married, if they thought I cared for you, there is nothing in the world to stop them from coming after you.”

“And when is the last time, Marc,” she pressed. “When is the last time they came after you? You’ve been out for a dozen years.”

No one had ever actually come after Marc, but that wasn’t the point. “Just because no one has attempted anything yet, doesn’t mean they won’t.” He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m certain Kelling never thought his past would come back to haunt him and yet it did. Him, his wife, his son, slaughtered by the side of the road. Is that the future you want for us, for our children?”

She blanched at that. “Kelling?” Her hand fluttered to her heart. “But highwaymen…”

“It wasn’t highwaymen,” Marc said more softly. Damn it. He hadn’t really meant to tell her that part. But he had, and perhaps she needed to hear it. “Highwaymen don’t do that. They’ll rob you at pistol point, and they may shoot you if you give them trouble. But what happened to Kelling and his family was an execution, it wasn’t a roadside robbery gone awry.”

“Kelling? He was an operative?”

“He’s the one who recruited me away from Oxford. A decent fellow. An honorable one. And he deserved better than he got in the end.”

* * *

Caroline thought she might be sick. More sick than she’d been in recent days, not that anyone else had noticed. Of course, she’d gone to some lengths to keep them from noticing, so it wasn’t entirely anyone’s fault that they hadn’t. But she knew what it meant. It may have been a while, but she distinctly remembered what morning sickness felt like. And if Marc had no intention of doing the honorable thing, she was going to have to sort out an undesirable solution on her own.

She and the girls could return to Benton Park on their own. She could finish out her confinement there and then…Her stomach churned at the thought of giving her child away. She couldn’t do that. She simply couldn’t. But neither could she brand the child a bastard. Neither could she tarnish Rachel’s name. Her daughter would come out next season and this situation could be more than enough to destroy her reputation.

Heavens, what in the world was she going to do? “Is that it, then, Marc?” she asked softly. “You’ve made up your mind and nothing will change it?”

He frowned as he stepped toward her. “I don’t like the sound of your voice, my love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

His frown deepened as a sigh escaped him. “You are my love, Caroline.”

“Yes?” she asked tartly. “Well, then prove it.”

Livvie was expecting. The thought popped into Caroline’s mind as necessity began to wriggle through her thoughts. Her cousin was a few months further along that Caroline, and she was probably already spending her confinement at Everett Place. What if Alex and Livvie could be convinced to make everyone believe they had twins? A few months would matter a great deal in the beginning, but later on, no one could tell there was a difference in the children’s ages. If they could just keep people from seeing them the first year or so, that could possibly work. And she could still see her child, be in its life, and Alex and Livvie would be excellent parents. That might work. She could head for Everett Park and send her girls to stay with Robert in Dorset so they wouldn’t notice her increasing, because the last thing she needed was for Rachel to see this sort of example for how to navigate her life. Sharing a bed with a man who had no intention of marrying her. Finding herself with child. A fresh wave of nausea washed over her. What if Alex refused to go along with the plan? What if—

“…are you going to answer me?” Marc asked, annoyance flooding his voice.

“What did you say?” Whatever it was, she’d missed it completely as she tried to sort out a solution to the mess she was in.

His light blue eyes narrowed on her. “I said are we done with this discussion?”

Yes, she supposed they were, and that made her more nauseous than any morning sickness ever had. “I can’t stay here, Marc.” She turned away from him. “I’ll have Rachel and Emma pack their things. I’ll see you reimbursed for everything you’ve spent on us, and—”

“Reimbursed?” he said the word as though she’d insulted him. Though he had no reason to be insulted about anything. He was the one who’d led her down a merry path without having a decent plan about how they’d go on. “I can’t even believe you said that.”

“Shall I say it again?” she asked tartly, because her heart was breaking and sounding any other way would be nearly impossible at the moment.

“Caroline.” Marc grabbed her elbow, and stood at her back. “You cannot leave. It isn’t safe.”

“Neither is staying here,” she breathed out. And the faster she got to Hampshire, the faster she would reach Alex and Livvie…

* * *

Goddamn it. Marc was not going to be manipulated, not even by her. “You are not going anywhere.” She was being completely ridiculous in suggesting otherwise.

Caroline snorted and yanked her elbow from his grasp. “You are not my lord and master, Marc. And as you have so plainly explained, you never will be. So whether I stay or go will not be dictated by you.”

Damn stubborn woman. “You are making too much of this, Caroline. Everything has been going so well. I don’t know why—”

A scratch came at the door. “Lord Haversham?” Mrs. Dawson called through the door.

“Oh, bugger off,” he grumbled under his breath.

Caroline glared at him over her shoulder. “I believe we’re done here, my lord.”

Oh, they were far from done.

The scratch came again.

“What the bloody hell is it, Mrs. Dawson?” he barked.

Even through the door, he heard the housekeeper gasp. But his threshold for dealing with emotional women was currently at an all-time low, so he scowled in response.

“There’s no reason to yell at the poor woman,” Caroline said as she crossed the room and opened her door. “Do you need something, Mrs. Dawson?”

But the housekeeper’s eyes were on Marc and she held an envelope in her hands. “From Simmons, milord. Robson said it was quite urgent for you.”

From Simmons. Blast and damn. What the devil was it now? Marc strode across the room and took the note from his housekeeper. “That’ll be all, Mrs. Dawson.” Then he tore open the note as she hurried away.

Damn it all, a break-in at Benton Park. The bloody Home Office was as frustrating as…well as a damned sixteen-year-old girl, honestly. And bloody Peasmore? That suddenly made a lot of sense, not that it mattered any longer. But he was exactly the sort of fellow Galloway would want in his arsenal. Young, with a scandalous reputation, and heir to a powerful title. He was Marc nearly twenty years ago. And just as big a fool.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. Galloway and his damned team simply would not let this go. Marc might as well find the goddamn code himself and hand it over so the infernal organization would leave Caroline in peace. But helping them do anything was more than irritating as he’d be quite happy for them all to hang on any other given day. However, he didn’t see any other way.

“You can go scowl somewhere else,” Caroline said softly.

Oh, he was not through with her. Marc folded up the note and narrowed his eyes on her lovely face once more. “Caroline, I have to deal with something. It is urgent. Promise me you won’t leave Saddleworth until I return.”

She shook her head. “I will make no such promise, Marc.”

Bloody stubborn woman. “I have to go find some damn deciphered code to keep you safe. Now tell me you won’t leave Saddleworth until I return. We are not done, you and me.”

She frowned at him. “Deciphered code? What are you talking about?”

Marc blew out a frustrated breath and told her the truth of it. “It seems, Staveley was deciphering something for the Home Office before he died. They would like it back, finished or otherwise.”

Her brow furrowed even further. “David was working for the Home Office?”

“Apparently.” Marc shook his head as it made just as much sense now as it did when he first heard that tale. “I am guessing that is what your thief is after. So if I can find the damn thing…”

“What does it look like?” she asked quietly.

How the devil was he supposed to know that? “A book, most likely.”

“Well, David only had a million of those.”

That was true. “Inside it, there would be scribbles, most likely, as he worked the code though.”

Light dawned in her eyes. “I know it. He was working on something, a puzzle he told me. He took a book with him on the road to Prestwick Chase.”

Marc gaped at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“How long have you known, Marc?”

“How long have I known what?”

“What my thief was looking for?”

“Since before you returned to London.”

She scoffed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

A strangled laugh escaped her. “Well, you’ve done much more than that, haven’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

But she shook her head instead of answering. “If any of you had thought to simply ask me—you, the Home Office—I could have told you where David’s book is. But you all decided it was better to keep me in the dark. And—”

“That is not the way the Home Office works, love.”

“Marcus Gray, on my life, if you call me that again—”

“Then what?” he challenged. “Because I do love you, Caroline, and I have never lied to you, and—”

“No!” She shook her head. “You simply keep things from me. And you…”

“And I what…?” he prodded.

She slowly released a breath. “You chased me, you made me fall in love with you when you never had any intention of us ever having a future together, Marc. You are more despicable than I ever thought you were.”

As though she’d punched him in the gut, Marc winced. He didn’t, after all, care about anyone else’s opinion of him, not anyone else in the world except for her. “I never thought you’d agree to any of this,” he told her honestly. “For the longest time, you were safe to love because you were so completely unavailable.” It wasn’t the most decent answer to her charge, but it was the truth. When she’d finally relented in his pursuit of her, no one had been more surprised than him. And he hadn’t had the good sense to think things through because…well, because how could he possibly think straight when she’d invited him into her bed? He truly hadn’t thought years down the road, what that might mean for both of them.

Caroline turned away from him. “Luke had all of David’s things sent on to Prestwick Chase after he found his body at that inn in Northamptonshire.” Her voice cracked. “Everything is boxed up and in the attic. You’ll find the codebook there, amongst his other things that I was not prepared to go through.”

Marc couldn’t care less about the codebook. He only cared about her. She was all he’d ever cared about. He followed her across the room and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Caroline, I should have told you. But…” Damn it all, how was he to explain himself so she’d understand? “I have spent the majority of my life not telling anyone anything. And, you won’t believe me, I know, but I have trusted you with more than I have ever trusted anyone else in my life.”

She glanced up at him over her shoulder. “If only that trust could make me respectable.”

Goddamn it! “Don’t you think I want to marry you? Don’t you think I want to shout to the world how much I love you? Because there’s nothing in the world I would want more than for things to be like they’ve been with all of us here these last few weeks. It’s the first time in my life…”

When he said nothing else, she spun around to face him. “The first time in your life?”

“That anything has ever felt…right.”

She swiped at a tear, which made Marc’s heart ache like nothing ever had before.

“Sweetheart, I could not bear it if something happened to you. If you were hurt or killed because of me.”

“So I should be made to suffer now on the off chance that something might happen later?” she asked. “Right now I am in danger, Marc, and not because of you, but because of David.”

And how ironic was that?

“No one’s future is certain,” she continued, “but only you get to decide whether you live in continual fear or whether you live life to the fullest, every moment that you do have.”

Goddamn it, she sounded quite resigned. “Don’t leave me,” he said softly. Because if she did, he wasn’t sure how he could ever go on.

But Caroline heaved a sigh. “Then choose me, Marc. Choose to live, because I cannot stay otherwise.” She shook her head. “I can’t live like Callie, hidden away from the world. And I will not have our daughters think of me as your mistress. I wouldn’t want that life for any of them, and I won’t let them see me choosing that life for myself.”

Marc didn’t even realize his hand was shaking until he lifted it to brush a tear from her cheek. And in that moment of weakness he said, “I choose you, then.” And it was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, which was the strangest sensation. “What do you want to do? Head for Scotland or send for a Special License?”

She threw her arms around him and cried against his neck, “I don’t care. Just as long as I have you forever.”

Marc held her close and breathed in that familiar lilac scent of hers for what felt like a lifetime. Dear God, he never wanted to let her go. But he did have to. “A Special License, then,” he said. “I’ll deliver the damn code to Whitehall, and I’ll get a license at the same time.”

She pulled back slightly from him. “I am so happy. You have no idea how relieved I am that our child will have a name.”

And if a battle-axe had struck him on the head, Marc would have felt less stunned. “O-our child?” he stammered. He had to have misheard her.

But she nodded, making him slightly dizzy.

“For Chrissake.” His hand was most definitely trembling then. “Why didn’t you say something?” Why had they just gone through this whole ridiculous exercise? If she’d told him the truth—

She shook her head, her golden curls bouncing against her shoulders. “Because I wanted you to choose me, Marc, not feel obligated to do so.”

Damn it all. That old familiar fear twisted his heart. A child. His and Caroline’s child. How could he—

“No one’s future is certain,” she said again, seemingly reading the panic that must be in his eyes. “Not yours, not mine, not this baby’s.”

Perhaps not, but he was going to do all he could to ensure their safety for as long as he could. “The damn thing is at Prestwick Chase? The codebook?”

She nodded. “I’ll write a note so Keeton he won’t give you a difficult time.”