"Does it involve Mr. Drummond?"

"Absolutely." Miles sounded as if he was boasting. "I'm betting we'll be shed of him by noon, and he'll never be back to plague us."

"How will you accomplish this miracle?" Sophia asked.

"It's a secret, Sophia, and I don't choose to share it with you."

Georgina looked a tad alarmed. "Please don't instigate any stupid schemes."

"It's not stupid, Georgina. In fact, it's the best idea I've had in ages."

He started out, and Sophia said, "Where are you going?"

"I need to hurry to town."

"At this hour?"

"Yes, but I'll be back in the morning."

"To do what?"

"You'll see when I arrive."

He rushed out, and Georgina turned to Sophia.

"I have a bad feeling about this. I probably shouldn't have told him about Mr. Drummond."

"Probably not."

"I'd hate to generate more discord. We've had enough conflict to last ten lifetimes."

"You couldn't make it any worse."

"This is Miles, Sophia. He might commit any foolish deed."

"Yes, he might." Sophia sighed, then pushed herself to her feet. "Would you excuse me?"

"I was hoping we could discuss your mother. Despite what Miles assumes, we'll have to leave, and she's not prepared."

"I can't worry about it now. I have to...ah...speak with Mr. Roxbury."

"About what?"

"About...nothing." Sophia dashed out before Georgina could ask her what she meant.

Kit was exiting the barn, his horse saddled, his packed portmanteau tied on behind, when Sophia burst out of the woods. She appeared angry or perhaps frightened, but in light of his awful fight with Damian, he wasn't in the mood for a difficult conversation.

She was so pretty, and he was so smitten. He didn't understand why, but his sentiment was real and potent, and he wondered what would happen between them. Damian had ordered him off the property and had revoked Kit's chance to serve as estate agent.

For the moment, he hadn't commanded Kit to return the gold he'd bestowed, but if he remained surly and contemptuous, he might demand it back. Then Kit would be in dire straits. When his situation had become so precarious, dare he wed her?

He couldn't imagine giving her up. She embodied much more than simply a bride and a wife. Somehow she'd begun to represent all that he'd lost, all he'd craved for so long. He couldn't bear to relinquish any of it merely because Damian was acting like an idiot.

She approached until they were toe to toe, and he could see she was livid.

"What's wrong?" he inquired.

"I must ask you a question. Actually I have to ask you several questions."

"All right."

She glanced around to ensure no servants were lurking. "Tell me about your past."

"I already told you I don't remember much of it."

"I disagree. I'm guessing you remember quite a bit. Were you quarreling earlier with Mr. Drummond?"

He studied her, curious as to what had put her in such a dither, but he suspected he knew.

"I was."

"Georgina was eavesdropping."

He shrugged. "I'm sorry to hear it."

"Is it true?"

The world seemed to stop spinning on its axis. Birds stopped flying. The wind quit blowing. They stared, with her waiting, waiting, waiting for him to explain.

"Is what true?" he ultimately asked.

"Don't make me say it aloud."

"Go ahead. It's certainly vexing you."

"Are you...are you...a convicted felon?"

He would have cut off his arm rather than reply, but when the pesky details had been revealed to Miss Fogarty, he didn't see how to deny it.

"Yes," he quietly stated. "I am a convicted felon."

"You spent time in the penal colonies."

"I did."

"Would you ever have confessed it to me?"

"I might have someday."

"Or maybe not. Maybe you never would have confided in me."

He shrugged again. "I don't like to talk about it."

"I'll bet you don't. What was your crime?"

"Pick pocketing."

"Pick pocketing?" She scoffed. "You expect me to believe they sent you to Australia for petty theft?"

"You'd be surprised at the paltry offenses of the people who were with me. It didn't take much to be judged a nuisance and banished across the globe."

"And Mr. Drummond?"

"What about him?"

"He went with you." Kit was stoically silent, and she asked, "What was his transgression?"

"I won't discuss Damian. If you'd like to know any of his history, you should speak to him directly."

To his dismay, tears flooded her eyes. "What now?"

"Nothing's changed," he doggedly insisted.

"Are you joking? Everything's changed."

"No, it hasn't. I was punished for misdeeds I committed as a boy when I was frightened and starving and merely trying to survive. I've paid for my sins and been rehabilitated. I'm embarking on a new life."

"How did you return to England?"

"After my prison term was over, I saved my wages and sailed back."

"You're not an escapee?"

"An escapee? No, don't be ridiculous. They'd never have permitted me to board ship unless I had the correct papers."

She scrutinized him, then shook her head. "I can't decide if you're telling the truth or not."

"I am."

"What will happen to me?"

"We'll wed-just as we planned."

"But...but...you're a criminal!" she hissed. "How could I?"

He sighed. "Oh, Sophia, please don't let it matter."

"Not matter! Are you mad? Of course it matters. You are dangerous, and I was deranged to ally myself with you."

"You weren't. I've always been loyal and faithful, and I always will be. Simply ask Damian about me."

"Ask Damian! I should seek a recommendation as to your character from another felon?"

She started to cry, which broke his heart. He pulled her into his arms, and for a second she allowed the embrace, then she stepped away.

"Not here, Kit. Not where people can observe us."

Wounded by her disregard, he nodded with regret. "I understand, but I swear I'll fix this. Just don't be sad. I can't bear to see you upset and realize that I am the cause."

"I'm sorry, but I can't marry you."

"Why can't you?"

"You know why! Don't pretend."

"I'm very rich, Sophia. Don't throw me away over events that occurred when I was ten."

"You were in prison until you were...what? Twenty? Twenty-five?"

He didn't confirm the number, but his sentence had been for the typical seven years. The more hardened criminals received fourteen. Anne Blair was one of the few who'd faced a life term.

"I was away for a long while," he admitted. "I won't deny it, but it made me tough and savvy and wise. You'll never stumble on a better man than me."

He felt like he was begging, and he hated the plaintive tone in his voice. He never begged. He'd learned through bitter experience that it was pointless to expect empathy or compassion.

"I'm still the same person I was yesterday," he claimed.

"No, you're a stranger to me. I should have been more cautious."

He yearned to reach for her again, but didn't attempt it. He was too anguished to try. First Damian. Now her. Could the bloody afternoon get any worse?

"I have to leave Kirkwood," he told her. "Damian has ordered me off the property."

"Why?"

"Because I want to marry you."

"But there's no need for you to leave, is there? Explain to him that the wedding is off."

"It's not that easy. I've hurt him."

"How?"

"You know how. He's always been my friend, and I've always been his, but I wagered that friendship over you. I lost him and it appears I've lost you too."

"Where will you be?"

"I thought I'd linger in the neighborhood and hope that he calms down."