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lips together as she realized that they were right. It was time for her to tell her husband what she was truly feeling. Although, she would leave out the part of how she held him in high regard.

“I will speak to him when I see him next,” Emmeline said.

Jane glanced at her mother before asking, “Do you want to borrow my muff pistol when you speak to him?”

“Why would I need a pistol to speak to my husband?”

Jane gave her an innocent look. “It might loosen his tongue, and no one would blame you if you accidentally shot him.”

Emmeline grinned. “I have no desire to shoot Oliver.”

“Pity.”

“You are terrible,” Emmeline joked.

“I prefer to think I am attempting to solve your problems,” Jane replied with a half-shrug.

Harriet shook her head at her daughter’s antics. “Perhaps you should put your energy into finding a suitor.”

“For what purpose?” Jane questioned. “I have no desire to marry.”

“Every woman wishes to marry,” Harriet pressed. “A marriage brings security.”

“Or it brings a host of new problems,” Jane countered.

Harriet reached for the teacup on the table in front of her. “I would prefer to see you settled with children before I die.”

“That won’t likely happen, Mother.”

After she took a sip, Harriet lowered the teacup to her lap. “Don’t you want children?”

“What would I do with children?” Jane asked. “I know nothing about rearing children.”

“Neither did I when I first started with Baldwin, but I must admit that it comes quite naturally,” Harriet replied.

Jane brought a finger up to her lips and tapped it. “If I did marry, I would want to marry a recluse. Someone who was content living in the countryside and never wanted to attend social events in London.”

“Why is that?” Harriet asked.

“Because I dread going to all the soirées, house parties, and balls,” Jane admitted. “It is rather exhausting.”

“You are the daughter of a marquess,” Harriet pointed out. “It is expected of you to attend until you secure a match.”

“What a dreadful thought,” Jane muttered.

“Speaking of which, we are to attend Lady Shipston’s ball this evening,” Harriet shared, shifting her gaze to Emmeline. “Please say that you will attend with us.”

Emmeline grimaced. “I am not sure how I will be received.”

“You need not worry about that,” Harriet assured her. “Madalene and I are working on a plan to ensure you are embraced by the ton.”

The sound of the main door being closed drifted into the drawing room.

Jane glanced over at the open door, her lips curling into a frown. “It would appear that my brother has finally decided to return home.”

The next moment, Oliver appeared in the doorway, looking terribly disheveled with tousled hair and wrinkled clothing. His tired eyes roamed the room until they met Emmeline’s.

“Good heavens,” Harriet declared. “Whatever happened to you?”

“It matters not,” Oliver replied, his eyes not straying from Emmeline’s. “May I speak to you privately, Emme?”

“Of course,” she said, rising.

She walked the short distance to him, and a terrible smell wafted off his person. Bringing her hand up to her nose, she said, “You smell awful.”

“I am well aware of that, but I was hoping to speak to you before I took a long soak.”

He offered his arm, and Emmeline timidly placed her hand on his sleeve. He led her towards the rear of the townhouse, and it wasn’t long before they were strolling along one of the footpaths in the garden.

She removed her hand from his arm and asked, “How are you faring?”

“Not well.”

“No?”

He reached out to gently grab her arm and turned her to face him. “I feel awful for not coming home last night, but I assure you that it couldn’t be avoided.”

Tired of his lies, she kept her back rigid as she asked, “And why was that?”

“I spent the night in jail.”

“You did?” she asked, rearing back. “Whatever for?”

Oliver let out a sigh as he dropped his hand. “My friend convinced me to attend a meeting with him, and it turns out it was a meeting for rebels.”

“It was?”

“And I was arrested by the Bow Street Runner that orchestrated the whole thing.”

Emmeline placed a hand on his sleeve. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“The charges were dropped, but I was forced to remain in jail until the situation could be rectified,” Oliver revealed.

“I am relieved that you were released.”

Glancing down at her hand on his sleeve, Oliver said, “That is why I missed accompanying you to meet with your father’s solicitor.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Oliver asked.

“I do.”

Oliver’s lips twitched, drawing her attention to his lips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such an understanding wife.”

Emmeline knew she should be vocal about her discontent, but she couldn’t seem to formulate the words. Not when he was looking at her in such a fashion.

“Did you sort out your dowry situation?”

Emmeline nodded. “Yes, I received a dowry of fifteen thousand pounds, and Mr. Clarke will be contacting you soon to transfer the funds to your account.”

Oliver’s brow lifted in surprise. “That is an impressive dowry.”

“I thought so, as well.”

“Did you discover why your uncle lied about your dowry?”

“I did not, but I believe he intended to keep the money for himself.”

Oliver nodded. “If you had married the duke, you would have never discovered your uncle’s deceit.”

“Most likely not,” she admitted.

“It is a good thing you married me, then,” Oliver remarked.

Before she could inform him about the property that she’d inherited, Oliver reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an exquisite coral necklace.

He held it up for her inspection, then said, “I know I haven’t been the best husband to you, but I hope to remedy that situation right now by giving you a birthday gift.”

“You remembered,” she breathed.

“Of course I remembered your birthday,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “I stopped by the jewelry shop on the way home from jail.”

“I’d just assumed you’d forgotten.”

Oliver’s eyes roamed her face as he asked, “Does the necklace please you?”

“It does, immensely.”

“May I?” he asked as he gestured for her to turn around.

After he secured the jewelry

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