She laughed somewhat hysterically. "You called me your betrothed. When really you should have stuck with Desmond's claim of whore. Really, there is no need for you to escort me anywhere, Your Lordship."

"Stop."

To his amazement she did, though her shoulders began to shake, whether from hysteria or grief, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, Christian. I knew there was something off about you from the beginning. But I just thought you were only the careless blood who had the world at his feet."

Her words hurt, but he wasn't going to let it show. "Well, there's that too."

She met his eyes, her gaze more piercing than usual. "Why is it unfortunate that you are the heir?"

Damn. He wasn't sure which was worse, her upset or her ability to rally and attack his weakest points.

"Well, that is the way things work, you see."

"No, I don't."

"You have two older brothers who can do no wrong, and somehow you are always the one breaking the family heirlooms and putting others in danger and getting them killed." Damn, he hadn't meant to say that.

"What do you mean? Are you referring to your mother?"

"Mother for one. Father seems to think that the deaths of my two older brothers were also my fault, as they were returning from a party that I had chosen not to attend. If I had, perhaps the accident would never have occurred or perhaps it would have been me in the ravine."

Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged.

"It's not important. Just the curse of being the youngest," he said flippantly and tried to adopt his most vacant expression. It always seemed to work on his father.

Kate's eyes narrowed and she turned to the window. He had succeeded in putting her off the conversation, but the victory was hollow. Suddenly his persona chafed more than he cared to admit.

He wanted back the Kate who made him forget to use the mask. Had he lost her by not speaking to her earlier? He knew he should have admitted the truth to her last night. Caring what someone thought was just as frustrating as it had been before he had attended Eton and adopted his devil-may-care attitude. He couldn't get hurt if he didn't care.

Blast. Those walls had been bloody hard to erect in the first place. Now as he stared broodingly out the window, he began the laborious process of reconstructing them.

Kate tried not to look at her companion. She wanted to strangle him and soothe his hurts. He was so capable at times; his behavior in the inn and how he had handled the people proved that. But at other times he seemed little more than a recalcitrant child. She supposed it had to do with the lousy upbringing he hinted at, but never fully divulged.

The gap between them had widened with his revelation of being an earl, and she was left standing across the chasm, waiting for the edge to crumble as she slipped inside.

When she fell had yet to be determined. "Christian, it is important. You are important. Do not dare think otherwise."

He gazed at her steadily and his lips quirked. "And here I thought you were exasperated by my arrogance, Kate."

She frowned. "You know to what I refer. And if I ever meet your father, I think I may well do him harm."

"I hope you never have the displeasure."

After a moment he smiled faintly. "But I do know what you mean. Or I wish to believe I do." He held her eyes. "My sweet Kate," he whispered.

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, a slightly charged, but comfortable one.

She inspected the carriage while Christian frowned thoughtfully in the corner. The workmanship was beautiful. Gold filigree and gleaming squabs. Plush cushions and luxurious curtains. Just like him. Beautiful and posh.

Nothing like her. Plain and damaged.

She touched the bonnet covering her damaged ear and felt tears prick her eyes.

The journey took a little under three hours on the newly cleaned roads and they mostly discussed what it would be like to open an investigations firm. Christian's eyes lit as he talked about what they could do with one.

The carriage slowed and swung to the right. Kate drew the curtain aside to look out the window. A magnificent drive stretched before them. Christian grew silent.

Statues and stately, mature trees lined the drive, which was covered in snow, haunting but beautiful. The structure loomed ahead, majestic yet lacking. The lines were too straight, the symmetry too perfect. No ivy curled lovingly through the stones, no snow clung where it shouldn't. The manor said, Look and marvel, but touch me not. Apart from the beauty, she couldn't picture Christian growing up here.

The carriage stopped beneath the front portico and Kate let the curtain slip from her fingers, the cloth a shroud encasing them in shadows with only a sliver of light showing through a crack. Christian continued his silent vigil. She didn't know how to respond to the austere grandeur of the manor or what to say to him.

A servant opened the carriage door. "My lord, good to see you." The man turned to her and held out his hand. "Miss."

Kate smiled awkwardly and stepped from the carriage, Christian exiting behind her. A stern elderly man, presumably the butler, engaged Christian in conversation. The man spared Kate a glance, then surreptitiously dismissed her.

The gulf between Christian and her widened. She wondered if it had been that wide all along and she had just been unwilling to see it.

House servants gathered their luggage, Christian's surprisingly small amount of baggage and Kate's unsurprisingly pitiful few cases. Another carriage pulled up and Kate observed Benji and Sally gaping in wonder and some apprehension. Tom merely stood with his arms crossed, as unapproachable as ever.

Christian gave instructions to the butler for Benji, Sally, and Tom to be taken around back. He held out his arm to Kate, and she reluctantly put her hand on top. He didn't smile as they walked inside. He didn't so much as crack an expression.

"Are you well?" she whispered as they entered a large hall dominated by a portrait of a ruthless-looking man.

"This is the house of my birth. I'd much prefer to be at my home in the north, but given our present circumstances, this will have to do," he muttered, his tone holding a distinct chill.

She pulled to a stop. "Why are we stopping here then? Chri-I mean, Lord Canley."

His eyes turned wintry. "Don't refer to me as that, Kate."

She fidgeted. "Well, I certainly can't refer to you as Christian inside the house of your birth."

He turned so that he was fully facing her. "I don't care one whit what anyone else in this house thinks, Kate. You will refer to me as Christian, as you have been doing."

She searched his face. "I don't think that is true, Christian," she said slowly. "I think you do care."

His face closed and he led her forward. "I prefer not to discuss this or anything else of importance here in the hall. Too many enemy ears. And I need to send a note to Anthony."

"If you find it so unsettling, why are we stopping here?"

"Its close proximity to London for you, and to Anthony for me. I only plan to spend one night, maybe two at the most. You can meet with your solicitor in two days, correct?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. That gives us plenty of time."

"Are you going to take the journal to Anthony?"

Christian sent a surreptitious glance around the hall as they continued. "Yes."

"You never explained why it was so important."

"Because Anthony is more family than the ones I have by blood." His muscles were bunched beneath her fingers. "I'd do anything for him."

There was a lot of emotion packed into that sentence.

"But why would anyone want the journal?"

"Blackmail. Circulation for the papers. The opportunities are endless."

"The journal is damaging enough to be used as blackmail?"

"Oh yes. But it doesn't matter. I won't let anyone touch it now that I have it."

"You would do anything for your friend?"

Christian stopped at a door and turned to her. "Yes, Kate, I would."

He opened the door and led her inside. It was a spacious room with tasteful furniture and accessories; however, there was little personality to be found. Then by chance she spotted a small chest in the corner as Christian spun her around. The chest was oddly misshapen and there were a number of strange things on top. The chest was hidden where it normally wouldn't be seen or noticed. She would bet they were Christian's things. Hidden beneath a carefully cultivated image, just begging to be explored. Like their owner.

The misshapen chest gave her some hope.

Christian drew her forward, lowering his lips to her neck. "Now that we are here, I suggest we don't leave this room until we are ready to travel to Anthony's or London."

She tilted her head; a wave of heat and longing surged through her body. She was so confused about most everything in her life, but oddly enough not about this. She just knew that she felt safe in his arms. And that she wanted more. "What about dinner?"

"I'll have trays sent up."

He stopped to take off his jacket. Anthony's journal poked from the pocket, and he draped the jacket over top of a chair. He loosened his cravat and dropped it to the floor.

"I think I will burn these clothes." He gestured to the clothes that had been part of the wardrobe that had never quite fit him. And as nicely tailored as they were, they were undoubtedly much less fine than what he was used to.

"And perhaps I'll have you for dinner instead." He touched her cheek. "And this time, Kate, I won't let you hide in the dark."

Kate swallowed nervously as he untied her dress. He left it hanging loose and threaded his finger through the ties of her bonnet. She pulled away as he withdrew the cap and she heard it plop on the Aubusson rug, her eyes tightly closed.

Silence.

She held in a sob, unwilling to open her eyes to see the disgust on his face.

"Kate?" His voice was low and flat.

She opened her eyes and started fumbling with the ties of her dress.

"What is this?" His voice was harsh, and she thought she detected an underlying hint of betrayal beneath.

"I'm sorry. I-I couldn't tell you. I'll go."

He grabbed her wrist. "Why?"

"Because I couldn't bear it."

"I don't understand." He looked pained.

"The chandelier hit me. It caused this."

She reached down for her bonnet, but he pulled her up and lifted her chin. There was question in his eyes and a hint of relief.

"What are you talking about?"

She stared at him. Why was he making her spell it out? "My ear."

"So you aren't rejecting me because of something else? This house? The situation? Or just...me?"

Kate could do nothing but blink. He thought she had rejected him when she had frozen up. That she was rejecting him.

She couldn't reassure him; her thoughts were in too much disarray. "Aren't you horrified?"

Christian looked at her ear and lifted a tentative finger to touch it. The light stroke sent a not unpleasant shiver through her. "It's not your best feature Kate; I think that distinction belongs to your bright eyes or luscious lips. But horrified? No."

She licked her lips and stared at him. Willing herself to believe him, to believe the look of need in his eyes, that he still wanted her.

Christian could be brash and careless and sometimes insincere, but he was also warm and funny, smart, caring, and genuine.

And she was falling in love with him.

She closed her eyes.

"Kate?"

She pushed the thoughts aside and opened her eyes. "Yes?"

"Did you think that I would think the less of you because of a scar? That it would make you any less beautiful?"

Kate couldn't answer as tears welled in her eyes. Of course she had. Her brother and Connor had claimed that she was disgusting and no one would ever want her. And Kate had been all too willing to believe it.

Now here was a man, himself a catch by any woman's standards, who claimed she was beautiful, scars and all.

"Yes," she whispered.

He touched her forehead and brushed a curl away. "Ah, Kate. So little faith. Have I impressed you so little?"

"No, I mean, yes, you have impressed me. I-I value your good opinion." And that had been the trouble really. She hadn't wanted to lose him, even though she barely had him.

He rubbed a finger along her cheek. "How could you think that one minor flaw would make you any less desirable? It only makes you, you. And I find you irresistible."

It wasn't a minor flaw. She could hide it with the judicious use of hats and hairstyles, but it was far from being unnoticeable otherwise.