They sat in their chairs watching Fiona play with her nanny and one footman. Fixed on his face was a slight frown.

"You can hardly believe it, can you?" asked Margaret beside him. "What are the odds that we both receive two children who came from the same place?"

He had no answer because it seemed too coincidental. And that fact that it was caused his head to spin. Unless this was an elaborate plan by someone, Cole had to know more about this manor both children talked about.

"Are there no clues of this place at all in your father's documents? In any of your research?"

He shook his head, grateful to have another mind working because his was still having trouble wrapping around the idea of a place aboveground.

"You know what this mystery provides?"

He turned to Margaret and almost smiled. Her brows were knitted together, her eyes focused on her thoughts. "Edmund Trilby did not tell you everything."

His jaw tightened. "It seems so."

"He was somewhere before they took her to his home. I don't believe he doesn't know anything." She gripped his hand. "He has the answer. If we find this place where Faye and Fiona came from—"

"I will talk to Edmund," he interjected firmly. "He's willing to work with me. At least as far as I know. But you can't be a part of this, Meg."

Her hand pulled away and she scowled. "We already had this discussion. Faye is under my protection. I brought you her case. And she is our case."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Meg, you're being followed. Fiona and Faye are both being hunted. I'm not powerful enough to protect all of you."

"I'm not asking you to protect me."

"Yes, but you can't expect me to do nothing either." He sighed, shaking his head. "This trade is far bigger than you and I."

She looked away, her jaw set tight, her eyes on Fiona. "Don't underestimate me. I have connections. I have ways to protect myself."

He scoffed. "What connections? Yes, I understand you're an Everard. You have resources. But how far will that take you? Your—"

When he stopped, she turned to him with a frown. "My what?" Cole shook his head. "It is nothing."

"It is not nothing, Cole Devitt. What is it?"

"Bloody hell," Cole cursed under his breath.

"Cole." Her voice was filled with warning now.

He sighed. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because it is something I need to tell Benedict myself. Please, I would appreciate it if you do not push."

"I won't."

"But I see that you're angry."

"I'm angry when I don't understand anything."

He smiled. "I know." His eyes returned to Fiona. "I will have to set up a meeting with Edmund Trilby soon. I may not be able to return to Wickhurst, but you have to."

She turned to him with narrowed eyes. "You're getting rid of me."

"Surely you understand. You cannot meet with him. He will not appreciate it. It's enough that I betrayed his trust by telling you."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "And what of Fiona? Who will keep her company here?"

"The estate is guarded. She's safe here."

"And when will you arrive in Wickhurst?"

"I do not know."

Her lips pursed, eyes fixed on Fiona. "Very well. I'll leave on the morrow."

Much later that evening, however, Cole paced outside her door, hands on his hips, scowling at the floor. Earlier, she had already said her goodbyes to Fiona, who promised to wake up early to send her off. Her things were packed as well and he knew because she made certain he knew. Earlier during supper, they argued about her mode of transportation. She finished her meal in haste and he never saw her since then.

His pacing came to a sudden halt when her door swung open and her beautiful stoic face appeared. "You know that I can see your shadow under the door," she pointed out. "If you don't intend to come in, please be so kind and continue your pacing elsewhere."

Cole swallowed.

"If you're here to insist that I take your carriage and accept the protection of your footmen, I accept. Is there more?" He was about to speak when she added, "Or are we finally having the talk?" she asked. "The one you said we'll have upon your return to Wickhurst?"

Were they? Should they? By the look on her face, Cole did not think tonight was a good time.

"Well?"

He faced her, looked into her eyes. He could just take one step. Take more toward the bed. They could share her last night in Ashmore in passion. Then they would simply have to deal with the after later.

However, looking at her now, he wanted nothing but to protect her. He knew that the best thing to do was to keep her separate from his affairs. To return her to Wickhurst where she could be with her family. He could go on as he always had these past years: solving the mystery on his own, taking the risks alone.

But how could he push her away again? Live without her again? What kind of monster would he be to himself and her if he did that?

He knew the answer now more than ever.

And maybe this time it would be different.

"What?" she asked again, voice etched with irritation.

Cole moistened his lips with a small smile. "I remember how you looked that night you rode in the middle of the open field to stop the duel," he said, surprising her.

"I do not remember anything amusing from that night, Cole. None at all."

"You rode that horse in naught but your nightdress, your hair flying behind you,"

"Of course, I was in my nightdress. I don't think it was the best time to find an astonishing gown when I was told that you and my brother were about to kill each other."

He nodded, his smile waning. "You came up to me atop that horse and for a moment I thought you were about to trample me on the ground. Truly, I did think that for a moment and I feared for my life."

"I hardly find that believable because earlier that day you went to tell me we can never to see each other again. Rather brave of you, really, to break my heart and then just disappear." She tore her eyes from him. "You've spoiled my night now, my lord. Is there more you wish to discuss across this doorway?"

He did not answer for a long time as they both digested her words.

"I was not meaning to dampen your spirit when I touched the topic. I meant to tell you how beautiful you looked that night. And how brave you were."

"I do not think of anything beautiful about that night. Nor did I feel brave. I was merely desperate." She struggled for a while, her face tight as she fought not to cry. But then she did and in a split second, Cole realized just how much pain she had to have been carrying. Of course, he knew he hurt her. But seeing now just how much was debilitating.

He was suddenly in front of her, cupping her face with firm hands. "Meg," he whispered, voice shaking above her.

"You left me," she choked out, closing her eyes. "Just like that, you walked away."

He pulled her closer and buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry."

"I waited for you," she sobbed, shoulder shaking. "I waited." Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly against the ever-constant pain.

"I'm tired," she said, and those two words caused him to shake in tears. "I'm tired pretending it doesn't hurt. That I'm strong. That I've overcome it all. That I could last longer doing so in front of you."

Cupping her face, he pulled her away from his chest and rested his forehead on hers, his own tears seeping through his closed lids.

"If you wish to say that the night in the cabin, or the time we shared here in Ashmore can never be repeated, please do so now," she said, voice a little more controlled with each word. "I'm not too frail for it. I've had enough practice."

"No," he whispered, shaking his head, running his thumbs across her damp cheeks. "I don't think I can do that. Not again."

She sniffled and pushed away from him, her moist emerald eyes searching his bravely. "Then why are you here? What do you wish to say?"

Cole let out a shaky breath, wiped his face, and searched her eyes. "Marry me."