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she found him so compelling, even from the very first time she’d seen him?
    “I could say I don’t know, and that’s partly true.” She pulled back a little and looked into his face, and realized she didn’t want to lie to this man, ever. “But to me, you encompassed all the good things a man should be.”
    He reached up and cupped her chin, then rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. Emilia tried to contain her shiver.
    “And what are those, lass?”
    “You were handsome.” She pressed on, fighting embarrassment at that admission. “Intelligent in the way you handled my father. Loyal to your brother Knights. Strong and capable that night in Vauxhall when your comrade was attacked. But I always saw the darkness lurking, especially that day we crossed paths on the street in London.” She gazed into his eyes. “Were you fighting it that day?”
    “Aye,” he said gruffly. He dropped his hand and pulled her to him again. She went into his arms willingly, loving the heat and comfort his body gave hers.
    “What am I going to do with you, Emilia?” His groan was laden with desperation and fear, and laced with something she could only identify as desire.
    “Stay with me,” she said.
    He gave a huff of laughter. “That’s easier said than done.”
    “I feel safe with you, Colin. Safer than I ever have with anyone else. Please. Stay. You are the only person who can help me—there is no one else I’d feel safe with.”
    “Even after tonight?”
    “Especially after tonight. The fact that you didn’t make a move to hurt me even in the deepest moments of your nightmare proved that you’ll never hurt me.”
    “You’ve a strange way of looking at things.”
    “The
correct
way of looking at things.”
    “We’ll be needing to take precautions.”
    She sighed. “If you insist.”
    He hesitated. Closed his eyes and opened them, looking at her with a deep tenderness. Then, softly, “Aye. I’ll stay.”

Chapter 8
    The next day brought with it a cold spring rain. Colin and Emilia laid an oiled cloth over their luggage and huddled under the phaeton’s hood. They traveled a good distance during the first half of the day, their soaking-wet and miserable-looking horses plodding along the muddied and increasingly pitted roads.
    Colin and Emilia kept warm and dry, despite an errant wind that would sometimes send a spray of rain into their faces. Though it was impossible for her to draw, as they were bundled together under Colin’s warm woolen plaids, she’d wondered more than once if there could ever be a more pleasant journey. Being out in the crisp air was so much better than being inside a stuffy enclosed carriage; she contemplated why more people of her class didn’t travel this way.
    A sea of green surrounded them at every turn, everything growing abundantly in this season. Pastures, forests, gardens. Wildflowers just budding with promise of a riot of color to come. She couldn’t wait for the weather to clear so she could draw it all.
    At noon, Emilia took out a package of bread, cheese, and dried meat she’d brought from the inn, and she and Colin shared bites of it as they continued on the road. The innkeeper’s wife had given her a skin of water, which they passed back and forth.
    Intimacy again. In an entirely new way, but a way Emilia enjoyed. She was not sitting stick straight knowing eyes were on her to see if she retrieved the proper fork and didn’t make a faux pas. At home, when she ate with her father, he was a stickler for perfect propriety at the table. This was altogether different. Relaxed and enjoyable, with a constant exchange of touches that comforted her in a way she couldn’t explain.
    “Do you think it’ll stop?”
    “The rain?” Colin’s lips twisted. “Nay. Not today, at least. I’d wager it’ll get worse before it gets better.”
    “I don’t mind. I think I like it. I feel quite warm under the protection of the hood.”
    “I’m glad,” he said. “How’s your