"You were wrong."
If that was the case, the gossip must have been horrendous. "So is that what this is about? Have you come to ask me to join you in London? You could have done that in a letter."
A wave of her hand dismissed the suggestion. "You could ignore a letter. And I didn’t know how you felt about coming back. In the letter you left me, you sounded piqued."
He gave a bleak huff of laughter. "I was hurt, not piqued."
When distress darkened her remarkable eyes, he repented his honesty. "Oh, Hamish, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you cared about me at all."
"You’re wrong. I do care," he said gruffly.
"I didn’t know," she said on a breath. His confession left her looking troubled, not pleased. What else did he expect? A declaration of undying love?
"Well, now you do."
After a resonant pause, she asked, "So will you come back to London?"
"To save you from the gossip?" Bitterness sharpened the question.
Emily rose to her feet, her chin angled with familiar defiance. "I don’t like all the nasty cats pointing at me and smirking. I didn’t like it after Greenwich. I don’t like it now."
"Surely you’re not excluded from society." He stood, too. "What the hell has my mother been doing? If anyone can give you countenance in the beau monde, she can. Nobody dares cross her."
"Your mother has been good to me, but even she can’t stop the spiteful whispers about how you and I made our bed and now must lie on it."
Hamish still didn’t want to think about beds. Not when he had this night to get through. He closed his eyes to avoid looking at her, so lovely here where he never thought she’d be.
She’d taken off that spectacular, figure-hugging scarlet jacket and now wore only a blouse and the red skirt. Fabric covered her from collarbone to instep. Only a ravening beast would take that plain, practical outfit as an invitation to strip her naked.
Clearly he was a ravening beast.
In fact, this room was altogether too dark and intimate. He began to prowl around, lighting every lamp in the room. "You weren’t a regular at society events anyway. I doubt the scientific community still cares about our private life."
"However great their minds, most of your colleagues are old women when it comes to gossip. Their wives and daughters are c
ertainly avid to spread any tattle."
Hamish lit the last lamp and turned to face her. Only to strangle a groan.
Why the dickens had he decided that it was a good idea to make the room brighter? Emily was as alluring as she’d ever been in the gloaming. More. Now he could see the intelligence in her eyes and the shine on the rich sable of her hair. He still dreamed of those magical moments in the library, when he’d taken down her hair.
"The talk will die down in time."
"It hasn’t so far."
"So you want me back to salve your pride?"
"That’s part of it. But not the most important part." The tilt of her chin became even more pronounced. "I told you – I’m tired of being alone."
He made a frustrated sound deep in his throat. "You say that, but what do you mean?"
Her defiance faded, and she eyed him warily. "I don’t want us to live apart. When we wed, I assumed we’d be under one roof. You certainly spoke as if we would be. I want to set up home with my husband. It’s about time I did."
He drew a shuddering breath. In her innocence, she didn’t know what she asked. "Emily, forgive me if I speak bluntly."
She stood her ground. "I wish you would."
After he finished, she wouldn’t say that. "When you told me to leave, I was heartsore and worried sick about leaving you grief-stricken and alone."