It had grown even colder, but Amelia took little notice. All she knew was that the light was growing dim. She could barely make out the waves as they crashed on the shore now, but she could still hear them—and something else. Men were talking, then shouting.

Had the demon that murdered Martin finally come for her? That was something that should concern her…but at this moment, she was too cold to care.

“Amelia! Amelia, look at me. I don’t want you to move. Just turn your head and look at me.”

She blinked sleepily and shifted, looking up to meet Gideon’s waxen face. Was he really there or was it the demon in disguise?

Gideon wouldn’t come all this way, not for her. It’s the demon, then.

“Amelia, I know you’ve had an upset, but there’s no call for this, is there?”

It was the guilt in his tone that pricked her. A demon probably wouldn’t bother with this farce.

“What?” Her voice was hoarse from disuse and the cold.

“I said there’s no call for this. I…I’ve spoken to Crispin. I brought him with me. Rather, he brought me. He’s looking for you downstairs. We came to take you home.”

She raised a brow at the irony. “This is my home.”

“I meant London, my love. Or we can visit my estate in Derbyshire. You’ve never seen it. I…I could use some advice on the new agricultural improvements I’ve been making.”

He paused and looked at the floor as if he was contemplating crossing it. She studied the damaged boards lying between the two of them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The floor isn’t sound, and you are too heavy.”

A little flare of heat crept up her chilled cheeks as she remembered the weight of his body on hers.

“Then can you please come here?” he asked, his voice high and thin. He sounded as if he were being strangled.

“I would prefer it if you left,” she replied, turning back to the surf.

“Amelia, please—”

His next words were drowned out by a racket downstairs. Gideon spun and ran to the banister to look over the edge.

“Worthing, hold on!” He turned around. “Crispin’s crashed through the floor somehow. I need to go get him. Please, please come here!”

Oh, dear Lord, no.

It was probably the only thing that could have roused her. She couldn’t lose Crispin. Pins and needles pricked as she got to her feet, wincing as her sore limbs were forced to support her. She rounded the damaged parts of the floor slowly, surprised at how much they creaked under her weight. When she reached Gideon, he grabbed her, pulling her into a crushing embrace.

“Crispin,” she reminded him sharply when he didn’t let go.

With a show of great reluctance, he released her and she started down the stairs.

“No.” He pulled her back. “Let me go first and you’ll follow. Here, take my hand.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and swept past him. At the gap, she peered down. A sweaty and shaken Crispin waved back at her. Both his legs had gone through the floor, and he appeared to be trapped. With a cluck of her tongue at him, she reached for the railing, sliding along the wide supporting board at the bottom the same way she did as a child.

“Amelia!” Gideon yelled

“Do try and not use my name as a swear word,” she snapped, rounding the bottom of the stairs and making her way to Crispin, testing the integrity of the floor with each step.

“I’ll get him out; get away from there,” Gideon said, edging around the open space with a fluid motion. He was down in a heartbeat with almost no noise. It was almost as if he was accustomed to scaling treacherous ruins on a regular basis.

When he tried to approach, she stayed him with a hand. “I told you, you are too heavy,” she said, over-enunciating her words. “This whole house is built over the ruins of an ancient abbey, and the fire has weakened the floors. It’s what gave the house its name. There are numerous chambers below. My father said they were used for storage. I imagine it’s a very long drop if you fall through.”

“Um, Flint, she may be right,” Crispin gasped, almost tripping over his words as he tried to brace himself. His sweaty hands slipped a little on the wood. “Feels as if I’m over the pit of hell itself.”

Gideon held up his hands and glowered at them both. “I’m going to run and get some rope. Do not move–either of you.”

He ran out of the house. Amelia looked down at Crispin with a scowl. “How could you bring him here?”

“The earl was concerned. So was I when I realized you’d come here to Devon.”

“So you knew as well, about the fire?” she said, bending and lying flat.

“Yes, I’m sorry, love. Martin was hoping to rebuild before you found out, but he didn’t want to ask you for the funds. I offered him the money, but he insisted on using his allowance… Er, darling, what are you doing?”

“Spreading my weight over a larger portion of the floor. I suggest you do the same.”

Crispin lay back awkwardly. Pushing herself with her hands, she helped him adjust and then got to work trying to free one of his legs. The first came out with relative ease, but he cried out in pain when she attempted to dislodge the second. A shard of wood the length of her thumb had pierced him in the fleshy muscle under the knee.

“Talk to me, Crispin,” she said, trying to distract him. “How could Martin believe he could hide something like this? He had to have known it would take far more than his allowance to rebuild this place.”

Crispin winced as her movements jostled his leg. “I believe he was hoping to have most of the work done on credit. He was going to apply to you for funds if some of the small investments he made did not bear fruit.”

“He should have told me,” she said, a wealth of pain in her voice.

Bloody hell, she would not cry. Not with Gideon nearby. She focused on working the shard of wood free, trying to break off the end.

“Don’t take it out! If he’s punctured a vein, he’ll bleed to death.” Gideon had returned.

“What?” Crispin’s eye’s dilated. His pulse throbbed visibly in his neck. Amelia worried he was about to faint.

“Believe it or not, I know that,” she snapped at the earl.

She had some experience with injuries and illness. Isobel had been kind enough to teach her how to treat them during their stay in Italy. “Do you have a knife?”

Gideon crouched down a few feet away and slid something to her. The blade was impressively sharp and had a nice heft, although it was a bit heavy for her. Working quickly, she started to saw the shard of wood at the base.

Despite the fact the knife had no teeth, it cut through the thick wood with little effort.

She would have to remember to ask the earl why he carried such a wickedly sharp instrument on his person.

The sound of timber creaking signaled Gideon moving closer. She raised her head to glare at him. “Stay away, my lord,” she ordered from between gritted teeth.

A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face as she returned to her task. Amelia tried to minimize the jostling of the viscount’s injured leg as best she could, but she winced each time Crispin panted or groaned.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed as the piece of wood broke off, freeing his leg.

Her eyes gravitated to the darkness exposed by the removal. Her father had been right. This part of the house was over one of the largest of the subterranean rooms. If Crispin had fallen all the way through the floor, he would have plunged to his death.

Ignoring fear for her own safety, she focused on helping Crispin, half-pulling and pushing until they reached Gideon’s position near the door.

The earl pulled her to her feet despite her protest he help Crispin first. She was set on the ground in front of the house without a word. Then he went back. He emerged cradling Crispin in his arms like a child.

Gideon carried the other man effortlessly, depositing him in one of the bedrooms of the cottage while she sent Gibson for a physician. The doctor was young, a man she did not recognize because he was new to the area. At Gideon’s suggestion, the doctor doused Crispin’s wound in strong alcohol before sewing it shut. Then he bound his ankle because it was badly sprained.

Gibson set up a pallet in the kitchen for himself so she and the earl could each take one of the two remaining bedrooms. She retired early, washing and collapsing in bed before the moon was high in the sky. But she couldn’t sleep. She lay staring at the sliver of the night sky visible through the window.

Her door opened a short while later. Gideon could have at least knocked.

“Amelia?” He was holding a taper.

“I’m sleeping,” she said tonelessly, not bothering to turn and look at him.

He sighed and closed the door. But he was on the wrong side.

Amelia should have been outraged, but she was too tired. Her heavy limbs refused to rise from the bed to slap him.

Gideon set the candle on the small table and sat down next to her.

“We need to talk.”

“What would be the point?”

“The point is I know the truth about Worthing and Martin. The viscount told me everything.”

It should have alarmed her that she had failed to keep Martin’s deepest secret, but it was difficult to summon the energy. “Did he tell you why Martin kept the fire a secret?” she asked instead.

“Yes, but first I need to apologize to you. I’ve been a fool. I allowed myself to be influenced by gossip, rather than my own knowledge of you. I should have believed in you. You’re still the principled and compassionate girl I’ve always known.”

“I agree on one point—you are a fool,” she said lightly.

His words were fine, but it was still a terrible apology.

He probably has few occasions to apologize to anyone. She really should savor the experience.

Gideon grunted. “You scared the hell out of me today. What possessed you to go inside? Let alone climb those stairs. That could have been you instead of Crispin. He was trying to follow after us when he fell.”

He took her hand and lowered his voice. “Amelia, what were you doing in that room with the house falling down around you? If…if something had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself. I know I hurt you—”

“I was not going to jump,” Amelia snapped. “I’m not about to do myself in because your lovemaking was not up to snuff,” she added with a quirk of her lips, unable to resist.

“It’s not funny! You took ten years off my life. Martin will never forgive me for what I’ve done. I will never forgive myself.”

His apology was no longer amusing. I can’t blame him for what happened—as much as I want to.

“Gideon…you did nothing wrong. Naturally, you assumed I was a woman of experience. And I had a few delusions about the act itself. There, now I have absolved you. Please leave so I may go to sleep.”

“No.” He gripped her hand tighter. “I need to explain about what happened between us. You see…er…when a man and a woman—”

Amelia shook his hand off. “Don’t you dare condescend to me! I am not a child, nor am I an imbecile.”

He scowled at her. “I’m aware of that. But you were ign—uninformed. The first time is always difficult for a virgin, but it improves. Under the right circumstances, it can be very pleasurable for the female.”

Amelia threw herself back on the bed. “I cannot believe we are having this conversation.”

“Love, it’s long overdue.” His eyes bored down at her. “Why did you say we weren’t making love? What were you expecting? Did you think kissing was the extent of it?”

“I am not so completely ignorant, my lord! I have been kissed—twice. A Frenchman took a liberty at a ball once, but Martin thrashed him soundly. As for intimate relations, I have seen it firsthand…but I should have realized it would be different between a man and a woman.”

Gideon’s lips parted, and he stared at her for a long moment. “You saw Martin and Worthing together?”

She sighed and nodded. “Accidentally. I returned unexpectedly to our rooms one day, and I stumbled upon them.”

Gideon looked rather red in the candlelight. He coughed. “What were they doing?”

Amelia threw up her hands. “They were making love!”

“Sweetling, there are many ways to make love.”

She let the endearment pass, acknowledging the truth with a nod. “Yes, well…they were…” Amelia trailed off, embarrassed, but Gideon nodded at her encouragingly. “They were using their mouths, or rather, Crispin was using his mouth on Martin…you know…down there.”

Amelia gestured with her hand at the junction of her legs. Her face was flaming wildly, but she kept her tone nonchalant. “Apparently, that is not how it’s done when one of the party is female,” she added with a sniff.

Gideon opened and closed his mouth a few times as if struggling to find the right words.

“What you saw is one of the variations of lovemaking, even between a man and women. But it’s not the only way. What happened between us is another. Some would say it’s the more conventional technique,” he explained a little haltingly.

Amelia’s mouth pursed. “I suppose it makes sense…anatomically.”

The earl released a strangled bark of laughter before abruptly cutting it short. “Agreed. Your body was designed to accommodate mine in exactly that fashion. Do you understand why?”

She frowned at him. Gideon looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“What we did—it is how I would plant my seed in your womb.”

Amelia stared at him, dumbfounded. Then her eyes widened in horror.

“It’s all right, love!” he said reassuringly. “It’s not likely I got you with child, not yet. Things did not proceed to completion if you get my meaning. But…if you conceived, that would be perfectly fine.”

Fine? Her heart was pounding in her chest. “How can you say that? It would be a disaster.”

Gideon frowned. “Amelia, surely you realize we have to marry now regardless of whether you fall pregnant?”

“What? Why?”

He stared at her as if she’d grown horns. “A gentleman does not dally with an innocent without doing the honorable thing.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Well, in that case, I have excellent news. In the eyes of the ton, I am far from innocent. A dalliance between us, however fleeting, is quite in keeping with my reputation.”

His expression darkened. “I don’t give a bloody damn about what the ton thinks.” She raised a brow, and he had the grace to cringe. “Not anymore, anyway. My sole purpose in this whole charade was to discover the truth behind my cousin’s death. I did not plan what happened between us, but I am not about to walk away because society would excuse me. I will not shirk my duty just because everyone is acting the fool.”

His duty. “How romantic, truly,” she said drily.

Gideon narrowed his eyes and leaned in close. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was trying to intimidate her. “Amelia, you and I will be married. Neither of us has a choice anymore. I know that’s not the romantic proposal a girl dreams of, but consider this—even when I thought you had a hand in Martin’s death, I couldn’t keep away from you.”

“Only because you were determined to find me guilty!”

His jaw firmed. “No, it was because I wanted you. I still want you. And you want me. Now make room on that bed.”

Stunned, her mouth dropped open. “Gideon!”

He held up his hands. “I’m not going to ravish you. Not tonight in any case. But if the last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that I cannot let you out of my sight. So, from now on, I won’t.”

With quick efficient movements, he removed his waistcoat and cravat. One boot dropped on the floor. It was swiftly followed by the other. He kept everything else on and pulled up the bedclothes just enough to slide in next to her.

Amelia had no choice but to move to the side to give him room. He was a big man. She tried to make herself as small as possible, scooting to the side until she was almost hanging off the edge of the mattress.

Gideon reached out and hauled her close. He sighed, his body relaxing completely. She considered slapping his face…but she didn’t want to.

It would just be for tonight. Her bone-deep weariness had dissipated during their conversation, but it was back now. And the heat from the earl’s body was so inviting. With a little exhalation, she lay her head on his shoulder and cuddled against him.

There would be ample opportunity to rail at Gideon tomorrow. But first…

“Sir Clarence burned down my home, didn’t he?”

Gideon sucked in a breath and began to rub his hand up and down her back. “I believe he did. It must have been retaliation for when you and Martin left England.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. “Why couldn’t Sir Clarence have been content with my dowry? I made sure he had the entire sum before we left.”

She waited, but Gideon made no response. That was just as well; she already knew the answer was greed.

“I suppose Martin thought he had plenty of time to rebuild, and that’s why he didn’t tell me,” she continued, trying not to blame her husband. He’d only been trying to protect her. “However, even rebuilt, the house will never be the same. It won’t be the home I shared with my parents.”

Gideon was quiet for so long she thought he had fallen asleep, but then he said something.

He couldn’t see her frown in the dark. His murmur had been close to unintelligible, but it sounded like. “My home is wherever you are.”

Exhausted, she gave up on further conversation and fell asleep.