“Your father felt strongly enough about the scandalous friendship to send you away to the Bahamas, where you remained for at least the next three years.” Clara shook her head. “If you do not love Lady Fairhurst still, then I do not understand why you could not have told me any of those things.”

  Ezra’s nostrils flared as he clasped his hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching out and gripping Clara’s arms before shaking her. “We do not have the sort of relationship where I need to tell you of past indiscretions—”

  “Don’t you dare, Ezra,” she warned shakily. “Don’t you dare try to dismiss me in that arrogant fashion!”

  He drew in a ragged breath. “Very well.” He breathed out again deeply. “I did not tell you of it because it casts doubt upon another lady’s reputation.”

  Clara struggled to rise to her feet, swaying slightly once she had done so. “Is that the only reason?”

  Ezra’s hands now clenched at his sides as he fought harder than ever not to cross the room to Clara’s side and help her to remain on her feet, knowing he would do something unforgiveable if he touched her again.

  Because to talk to Clara of Anna Fairhurst would inevitably lead to a conversation of the years afterward that Ezra had spent in the Bahamas. It was those years he could not talk about. Would not talk about. Not to Clara or anyone else.

  His expression softened. “Please do not ask me any more about that time. It is the past. Let it remain there.”

  Tears glistened in her beautiful blue eyes. “You are going to leave me shortly, and I will be left here not knowing when or if I will see you again.”

  “We currently live only a few miles apart—”

  “But you never visit me at Banford Manor.” She reached out to rest a hand on the back of the chair she had just vacated. “It is always me seeking you out. Always me,” she repeated brokenly. “It hurts, Ezra,” she choked. “To always be the one asking for your time and attention, and, more often than not, to then be rejected.”

  Ezra felt as if his heart were being squeezed by a vise in his chest at sight of the unmistakable tears Clara was trying so hard not to let fall. To know that the accusations she made were the truth. He wanted—dear God he hungered—to give Clara the love and reassurance she asked of him.

  Perhaps, if only for a few minutes, he could just let the two of them be? For each other? Just for now?

  He strode across the bedchamber to lift Clara into his arms, keeping her there as he sat in the armchair with her seated on his knees. “Please do not cry, Clara.” He could feel the heat and wetness of her tears as she buried her face against his throat. “It is too much. I cannot bear to be the cause of your pain.”

  “It is my own fault,” she sniffled. “You are not to blame because I have fallen in love with you.”

  Clara loved him?

  She had called him her love the previous night, but even so, Ezra had not liked to speculate how deeply Clara’s feelings were for him. He had decided, if the words were never spoken, he could pretend it was just an infatuation that would fade with time. He should have known that Clara, his brave and fearless Clara, would never falter in declaring the depth of her emotion for him.

  Having been haunted for so many years by the shadows of his past, to now know himself loved by someone as beautiful and untouched as Clara was beyond anything Ezra had ever, or could ever, have imagined.

  “Or that you do not feel some regard for me.” Clara trembled in his arms. “I comfort myself with the knowledge that if you did not like me, just a little, you would not be so insistent upon caring for me after rescuing me and again now.”

  Ezra’s arms tightened about her. “Of course I like you.”

  She pressed herself closer as she snuggled her head beneath his chin. “Then just let me sit quietly in your arms for a few moments longer, and then I shall let you go on your way without making any more of a fuss.”

  It sounded as if Clara were saying goodbye to him. As if she had finally given up her pursuit of him in the face of his lack of encouragement.

  How did Ezra feel about that?

  Devastated, was the first word to thunder through his brain.

  He did not feel just devastated but bereft. Clara was no longer offering even friendship, and after spending another two days and nights at her side, Ezra could not bear the thought of receiving no more of those impromptu visits from her. Of not being able to look at her as she gazed at him with every emotion emblazoned across her beautiful and expressive face. Of not stealing the occasional kiss from her that he might treasure and hold close to his heart during the times he did not see her.

  It sounded to him as if Clara had decided, at his repeated urgings, to cut her losses and find someone more deserving to give her affection to.

  Ezra had been encouraging it for weeks now, and yet, now Clara had agreed to do so, he could not bear the thought of it.

  His arms tightened about Clara, and he held her closer still. “Will you give me a little time in which to—to try to set things right?” he pressed huskily. “To make it so that we might—we might perhaps be together, after all?”

  She lifted her head to gaze at him quizzically. “And how will you do that?”

  By traveling to the Bahamas, a place Ezra had sworn he would never return to.

  Once there, by seeking out the woman he had married twenty years ago and asking, begging, for her to release him so that he might be with Clara, the woman he loved.

  Chapter 8

  “Ezra?” Clara voiced her uncertainty at his continued silence, unsure of what he was suggesting. Or why.

  They had talked and made the choice of a friendship only between them on the afternoon of the baptism, and nothing had happened since that time. None of their conversations had given her the hope Ezra would ever change his mind and want more from her.

  Was he doing so now?

  Clara was afraid to hope that might be the case. “How much time?” she prompted huskily.

  “I—I will have to go away for several weeks or possibly months.”

  “Months?” she repeated incredulously.

  “I have some business I need to deal with before I can, with a clear conscience, explain my situation to you in more depth.” He looked pained. “Even then I cannot be sure I will return with good news. Only that I must try.”

  “You will not leave the area without saying goodbye first?”

  His expression softened. “I promise I will not leave without saying goodbye to you.”

  “I believe I prefer ‘until we meet again.’ It is far less final than goodbye,” she explained at his questioning glance.

  He nodded. “Then I shall say until we meet again.”

  “What will happen to your estate and the stud while you are away?”

  He shrugged. “In the short time he has been here, Mr. Long has shown himself more than capable of dealing with both enterprises for the time I shall be away. My grooms and the household staff respect him and his authority.”

  Clara gazed at Ezra wistfully. “I still do not understand why it is necessary for you to go away at all.”

  “I will discuss everything with you upon my return.”

  “But—”

  “Clara.” Ezra’s hand cupped her cheek, and he lifted her face until she was looking directly at him. “Can you not trust me a little longer? Can it not be enough for now that I am going to try to remove the obstacles standing between us?”

  Was that what he was doing? If so, Clara did not understand why it was necessary for Ezra to go away in order to do so.

  She had believed that, with her mother’s help, she had unearthed the scandal from Ezra’s past, and he had confirmed the affair. But if that was the case, why did he need to go away at all? Ezra claimed the affair had been of short duration, with no love involved on his part or the lady’s, and if that was so, it was surely a past indiscretion better left undisturbed.

  Even if, for some reason, Ezra felt the need to belatedly “confess all” to Lord Fairhurst, the Fairhurst estate was in Gloucestershire, only a day’s ride on horseback from here. No doubt Lord and Lady Fairhurst were spending the winter months there with their two children.

  Clara winced. “Do you think it wise to rake up an old scandal? I do not mean to cast any aspersions upon your feelings or those of Lady Fairhurst, but surely after all this time, it is something best forgotten.”

  Ezra scowled. “My affair with Anna Fairhurst lasted only a few weeks and was so long ago, I assure you I have forgotten it. As, no doubt, has she.”

  Clara doubted that very much. Even twenty years ago, according to her mother, Ezra had been a singularly handsome man. “Then it is for a reason other than Lady Fairhurst you are going away?”

  “Yes.” Ezra had no idea if he would be able to end his marriage to Isabel or not, but he had to try. For Clara’s sake. For his own sake. “Clara, I shall be leaving England for those weeks or months.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “For the moment, it is better that you do not.”

  “Better for whom?”

  “Both of us. Please, Clara.” Ezra’s fingers tenderly caressed her cheek. “Believe in me just a little longer, hm?”

  She looked at him searchingly for several long moments before nodding.

  Ezra had not so much as set eyes on his wife since leaving the Bahamas seventeen years ago, nor did he wish to see her again now. But he had lived too many years with the shadow of that impetuous and youthful marriage haunting his present and denying him any future. In truth, until Ezra met Clara, he had not envisaged any future but that of living quietly and running his stud successfully. But for the chance to tell Clara how he really felt about her, to be able to hold her, to make her his own, he would travel to hell and back rather than merely the Bahamas.

  Ezra frowned. “But I shall not be going anywhere until we have resolved this present danger to you.”

  “And how are we to do that?”

  Ezra looked at her sternly. “You will not do anything,” he warned. “Weston is insisting, as the shooting took place on his property, that he will remain in charge of the investigation. But I have every intention of offering my assistance in the venture. Indeed, I may be able to shed more light on the subject as I was standing next to you when the shot was fired.”

  Clara eyed him searchingly. “Spend this one last day and night with me?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Your mother is insisting that the three of you will be returning to Banford Manor tomorrow.”

  Clara gave a nod of resignation. “Then no doubt that is what we will do.”

  “Nor am I sure it is necessary for me to remain in your bedchamber anymore, today or tonight, when you are so obviously well on the way to recovery,” Ezra reasoned.

  “But I want you to.” Her gaze was imploring. “If you have other things you must do today, then at least give me this one last night. Please, Ezra.” She continued to gaze at him unblinkingly as she waited for his answer.

  Ezra felt another viselike clenching about his heart. A heart that for so long had remained closed off to all affection. His parents were long dead, he had no siblings, and had come to accept that his lonely existence in Worcestershire was all he would ever have. Until a red-haired, blue-eyed young miss had insisted on pushing her way into his life and affections and refused to be dismissed, no matter how often or in what way he had tried to make her do so.

  He was also so very aware of the truth of Clara’s earlier claim, that she was always the one who had to ask for both his attention and any affection. That he never simply gave those things to her.

  “Very well.” He nodded. “I insist on going back to Stone Manor this morning and then helping Weston and his men for the rest of the day, but I will come back and sit with you again tonight. Does that suit?” he teased.

  Her smile warmed her eyes and gave color to her cheeks. “It suits me very well.”

  Ezra eyed her ruefully. “Why do I have the feeling I have just been expertly managed?”

  Clara’s eyes opened wide with an innocence that could only be feigned. “I have no idea.”

  Ezra chuckled. “Your tone is singularly lacking in sincerity.”

  Her expression became even more guileless. “Is it?”

  He laughed outright. “You, my dear, Clara, could one day be the death of me—and I do not mean from a bullet wound!” He assisted her in standing, careful of her injured shoulder and arm, before rising to his feet himself. “I will see you again this evening.” He kissed her chastely on the forehead before striding from the bedchamber.

  A resolve formed in Clara’s mind as she watched Ezra leave.

  If tonight was to be the last they would spend together, then she intended to take full advantage of it.

  “You must sit still whilst I wash your hair. I do not wish to get soap in your eyes,” Rissa warned Clara indulgently.

  In truth, it was a little uncomfortable for Clara to be sitting up in the porcelain bathtub at all, even if it was placed in front of the warm fire burning in the hearth of the bedchamber. But she was determined, after two days and nights of being abed, to take a bath and wash her hair. She was grateful for Rissa’s offer of assistance rather than making do with a maid.

  Clara remained silent until her hair was washed and rinsed and Rissa had helped her to stand and step out of the bathtub. She then wrapped her hair in a towel and her dripping body in a second one. “Did it hurt very much when you and Harrogate first… Never mind.” She glanced away to avoid her friend’s suddenly searching gaze.

  “When Zachary and I first what?” Rissa prompted curiously.

  “The first time you… You know.” Clara gave an embarrassed grimace.

  Rissa’s brows rose to her hairline. “I am not liking the direction this conversation is going, Clara. It is one thing having had Lord Stone guarding your bedchamber these past two days and nights with all the ferocity of a snarling tiger keeping others at bay, something else entirely for you to instigate the two of you—the two of you… You would be ruined, Clara,” she warned worriedly. “No other man will offer for you if it becomes known you have already been with another.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I do not want any other man but Ezra.”

  “You say that now, love.” Rissa patted her hand in sympathy. “But how can you be sure these feeling will last? That they are not infatuation born of gratitude for Lord Stone having rescued you last month?”

  Clara frowned. “Please do not call it that. Ezra insists my feelings for him are only infatuation too,” she explained at Rissa’s question look.

  “I apologize.” Her friend grimaced. “Although it is a possibility…”

  She raised her brows. “Is your love for Harrogate an infatuation born of gratitude for his having rescued you from a burning house, also last month?”

  Her friend looked suitably chastised. “You are quite correct to remind me of the manner in which Zachary and I met. It is only that I am concerned for you.”

  “Ezra says he is going away. Possibly for months,” she added tearfully.

  “Why?”

  She shook her head. “To settle some business matter or other. It is my dearest wish to belong to him completely before he leaves.”

  “But your shoulder—”

  “Will still ache after Ezra is gone, along with my heart.” Clara sighed heavily. “How will I survive all that time without him, Rissa?” she appealed emotionally.

  “You will endure, in the same way you survived for the first eighteen years of your life before you knew him,” Rissa stated briskly. “My darling stepmama assured me, during my lamentations of what I believed to be my unrequited love for Zachary before we were married, that it is impossible to die from only a broken heart,” she added ruefully. “Although it certainly feels that way at the time.” She winced at the memory.

  Clara sighed. “I can vouch for that, yes.”

  “You really are not in any condition to seduce Lord Stone,” Rissa reasoned gently.

  “I can most certainly try.” Clara giggled. “It is as well no one can hear this conversation. Otherwise, I would most certainly be ruined! But I love him, Rissa.” She sobered. “I love him with all that I am or ever could be.”

  Her friend nodded her understanding. “Then you must do what you feel is right for you.”

  Clara had not needed her friend’s approval, but she felt slightly less apprehensive regarding her plans for herself and Ezra tonight for having it.

  Now all she needed was Ezra’s cooperation.

  All?

  Chapter 9

  “You made no mention of the possibility of your going away on a lengthy business trip at the time of my employment.”

  Ezra’s lids narrowed as he studied the man standing on the other side of his desk. Grayson Long, his new estate manager, was almost as tall and broad as Ezra, but his fair hair was kept short, the harshness of his face dominated by glittering gray eyes, and perhaps the reason for his chosen name.

  The other man had come to Ezra with excellent references, and he had proved himself worthy of those recommendations during the four weeks he had been in Ezra’s employ. Too much so in some ways, considering Ezra was not offering as high a wage as another employer might have and what those references demanded.

  There was also an air of aloofness to the other man and a reticence to talk about himself or his past which, although Ezra was the last person not to respect another’s privacy, also made him curious to know more about the other man.

  Sitting in Clara’s bedchamber these past couple of days had given Ezra plenty of time to consider the situation, and for him also to realize the only person relatively new to the neighborhood was Grayson Long. That being so, Ezra had decided to kill two birds with one stone by returning to Stone Manor after talking with Clara earlier so that he might change his clothes, but also to check on his stud and estate. The latter also ensured he had opportunity to question his new estate manager by first asking for the other man to report on the estate during Ezra’s absence. With that subject out of the way, Ezra had now informed the other man of his decision to leave the country for several months.