Less than a week later, Hawk sent yet another sidelong glance at the woman seated next to him in his carriage, and still could not rid himself of the cloud of unreality that enveloped him.

Despite having spent the past two hours within arm’s reach of each other, the only words he and Faith had exchanged were the rote phrases designated by the marriage ceremony.

The signing of the registry had been as silent an affair as the wedding itself. No one had clapped Hawk’s shoulder in congratulations. Faith’s parents and best friend had all given the new bride a restorative embrace in commiseration.

And yet they’d done it.

They were finally married, but his old coach felt like it was rattling them inexorably back toward the past rather than to their future. Would they ever trust each other enough to truly become a family?

He hadn’t been back in Faith’s life long enough to know whether the gown she wore was something old from the back of her wardrobe or a new confection commissioned specifically for the occasion.

In either case, she was stunning. She always had been. Regardless of the cost of the material that clothed her.

Sometimes, he thought her hair was her crowning glory. Thick glossy ringlets that had mussed so perfectly all those years ago when he had sunk his fingers into their brown silk. That memory could still warm him on even the coldest of London winter nights.

Other times, he thought it was her eyes that had so enraptured him. Sometimes a green so emerald they glittered as much as jewels, and other times as soft and mossy and warm as a bucolic forest surrounding a burbling summer spring.

Her eyes were expressive and ever-changing, windows not only to her soul but to his own. The thick brown lashes that framed them could melt him with a single flutter. He could still remember how it felt to see love reflecting back at him.

The memory ripped open a crater of longing almost too raw for him to bear.

He might never see affection return to her gaze. She trusted him as little as he trusted her. But while her sins were now in the open and in the past, he was still disappointing her.

Shortly after he’d informed her of his intent to marry her, he had learned from Simon that after a full year of pleading, Faith’s parents had finally agreed to donate the money meant for her dowry to the school instead.

He had not spoken with the Digbys. Faith no longer required permission to wed, and with a ten-year-old daughter between them, Hawk had no need to beg for permission. But he suspected that part of the reason for the haunted look in Faith’s eyes whenever someone had mentioned the school, was because the dowry money would no longer be going to the school.

Although she would never believe it, the ordinary act of accepting his bride’s dowry wracked him with guilt.

He did not want to steal bread from the mouths of children. But he also had to provide for his own.

Accepting a dowry did not make him a monster. It made him the same as every other man who had accepted every other dowry in the history of brides and dowries. The very definition of a dowry was a gift of monetary value from the bride’s parents to the groom upon the circumstance of their marriage.

Lord knew, his estate needed the money. Their family needed the money. So why did continuing an expected and long-standing tradition make him feel like such a scoundrel?

He would not think about that now. There was nothing he or Faith could do but make the best of their situation.

And as far as Hawk was concerned, the best of their situation—indeed, the crowning jewel—was Christina.

He would finally be able to get to know her. To be a good father, even if she believed herself nothing more than a ward. Excitement hummed along his skin.

“Starting tomorrow morning, I shall arrange scheduled visits with my daughter without you peering over our shoulders. She will never get to know me with you pecking between us like a mother hen.”

Faith’s eyes flashed in his direction. “I am her mother hen. You are the rooster that crowed once and flew away. Until I give permission for Christina to be unsupervised in your company, she will not—”

“Incorrect, Lady Hawkridge,” he said softly. “As your husband, I do not require permission for anything at all.”

Her eyes flashed. “Anything you still own.”

A cold sweat prickled along his skin. His voice filled with danger. “What did you do?”

“I gave away the school,” she whispered. “Before it could become yours. I signed my half back over to Dahlia the day before the wedding. It’s legal and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Relief washed over him. He hadn’t even considered the school. He was glad it would not be his responsibility. Hawk had more than enough already just with taking care of his family.

“I don’t want the school,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “I want my daughter. You stole the first ten years of her life from me. It’s finally my turn to have her, too.”

There was light at the edge of the darkness. The dowry money would allow him to open his port ahead of schedule. Despite the guilt he felt at spending money meant for the boarding school, Hawk was in no position to turn it down. Once his port turned a profit, he would more than match the donation.

In the meantime, he would have to settle the worst of the overdue accounts, turn the guest chamber into a proper nursery for Christina, boost his mother’s spirits with a new gown. He and Faith could start their marriage without worrying about money. Hawk’s mood lightened at the prospect.

Her dowry was ample enough to allow them to live in relative comfort until his port opened. He had done the calculations dozens of times. Thanks to the unexpected influx, in less than six months he would finally be out from under his predecessors’ debts and every shilling he earned could be used to spoil his family.

Whether this strained union would ever feel like a family was another question entirely.

He tried to look away from Faith but her despondent expression only reflected back at him from the carriage windows.

This was not her fault. She was far from perfect, but so was he. If he was miserable, he’d managed to ruin their relationship all by himself.

The news of Christina’s existence still made him dizzy. But he had to stop allowing Faith’s deception to make him angry. She had made the decision a decade ago, but she’d been living with the aftermath ever since.

A ruined spinster with a child that would never know her mother. He lowered his head. Punishing her further would be far beyond excessive.

It was time to move forward. To create a future far different from their past.

“We’re here.” Faith practically leapt from the coach moments after it turned onto the road leading to her parents’ house.

Hawk was not nearly as excited to follow her inside. He had not made a positive impression the first time he had met the Digbys or any day since. His stomach was too knotted to be hungry.

When he followed his new wife inside her parents’ home, Hawk was delighted to spy his brother standing just outside the archway to the dining room. The sole friendly face amidst a panoply that ranged from suspicious to devastated.

At least, he hoped his half-brother was still friendly toward him. If Christina’s existence had been a shock to Hawk, to Simon it would have been tangible proof that Hawk was no better than their father.

His steps slowed. He would not blame Simon for being unable to forgive him for repeating the same history that had caused Simon such pain. Hawk could not even forgive himself.

“I’m trying to make this right,” he said to his brother in lieu of a greeting. “I have yet to find a right answer, but I swear to you I am trying.”

Simon’s gaze went somewhere over Hawk’s left shoulder. “Let us not discuss the choices you have made. But if I ever hear you refer to Christina as a ‘mistake’, then so help me God I will—”

“Never,” Hawk said quickly. “I have made countless mistakes, but she is not one of them.”

Simon nodded. “It will not be easy. I do not envy you.”

“I envy you,” Hawk muttered. “Your life seems so easy in comparison.”

“Does it?” This time, Simon’s smile reached his eyes. “Feeding four-and-twenty schoolgirls, chasing after my wife, drowning in case files…”

“Perhaps not ‘easy,’” Hawk allowed with a laugh. “But you have a path. A plan. You know which direction you’re going. That’s what I’m trying to forge as well.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I am often stumbling about in the dark.”

“Unlikely,” Hawk scoffed. “With what?”

Simon lifted a shoulder. “For example, I am no closer today to determining which, if any, of Maxwell Gideon’s surreptitious dealings are legal and which are not. His reputation as a ruthless blackguard has made some believe he would not hesitate to manipulate and coerce others if it resulted in more profit for him.”

Hawk’s shoulders tightened. Once again, he was caught between loyalty to his brother and to a long-time friend.

No matter how ruthlessly Maxwell Gideon controlled his business, complete and informed consent was a primary requirement of every contract he signed. Hawk shook his head. Even though his own money was no longer at risk, he would not take part in casting doubt on another man’s reputation.

Was Gideon a blackguard? Without question. But Gideon was also a pathologically fair one. His word was his bond, and absolutely unshakable.

“I’m sorry,” he said to his brother. “I cannot help you. To the best of my knowledge, every deal Gideon has brokered is completely legal, even if the details aren’t public.”

Simon returned his gaze for a long moment before responding. “Then I am at a crossroads.”

Hawk hesitated. “If anyone knows Maxwell Gideon secrets, it is your brother-in-law. Grenville knows everyone’s secrets. But you will need far more than mere good fortune to wrest it out of him.”

“I know.” Simon sighed. “I’ve tried.”

Hawk lifted a shoulder in sympathy. Heath Grenville was damnably good at his job. No matter how Hawk might have wished otherwise. He furrowed his brow.

Perhaps his brother’s life was not nearly as straightforward as he had assumed. Not only was Simon’s investigation not going as smoothly as he hoped, Hawk had swooped in and inadvertently redirected dowry money that had been earmarked for the school. He winced. Simon would be well within his rights to be more than disgruntled with him.

“About Faith’s dowry,” Hawk began.

“I’m sorry about that,” Simon said quickly. “The transfer had already gone through before I learned it was underway, and they managed to spend every penny within a matter of hours. Contracting repairs for the school, new clothes for the girls, books for the library, staples for the pantry. All I can tell you is that every shilling was lovingly spent for a noble cause.”

Hawk’s brain barely processed his brother’s words.

The dowry was gone.

Not only did it not come to him, it had already been spent. The guilt he had glimpsed in Faith’s eyes was not because her marriage to him would deprive orphans of new shoes, but because he would not be receiving a farthing at all.

Hawk’s pulse pounded in his ears. His port would not be opening early. There was no money for paying debts, for paying rents, for food and clothing. No money for doctors to treat his sick mother.

No money at all.

Fury surged through his veins. Faith knew, and hadn’t seen fit to tell him. She’d done it on purpose.

“She gave it away?” he rasped in disbelief. “She told her parents not to give me the dowry?”

Simon winced. “They didn’t rescind it from you personally, if it makes a difference. Faith convinced them to donate her dowry to the school before you had proposed marriage.”

Hawk hadn’t proposed. Hadn’t courted Faith at all, then or now. What dibs did he have on a dowry that had been promised to orphans? None.

His eyes blurred at the irony. If Hawk would have paid a visit to her father back when he had first intended to, he and Mr. Digby would have signed a contract. The dowry money would not have been a mere cultural norm, but a legal obligation.

By securing a special license and using Faith’s permission as a woman of majority in her own right, Hawk had completely bypassed the step of formally asking for her hand.

This was what his arrogance deserved. But that did not change their circumstances. Without Faith’s dowry…

How would he afford to provide for his new family at all?