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Of course, he blamed himself. There was nobody else to blame but himself. He had been so focused on preventing her from going out with her friend that he had forgotten to fulfill the promise he had made to her.

How could I have forgotten?

He had buried himself in work and forgotten his wife. And now, it was far too late.

I need to speak with her. I need to confess everything.

He had almost gotten to the door before he stopped himself. Telling Ava she might be in danger might terrify her. Perhapsshe was safer living in her father’s home, especially with Lord Wilbury looming over him like a bad omen.

Nobody would expect Ava to be at Notley Manor—certainly not Lord Wilbury. This way, if the Earl were to attack again, Edwin would be the only one to bear the brunt of it. His wife would be safe and out of harm’s way.

He nodded as he reassured himself that this was the best decision. After all, after the danger had passed, he could apologize to her and only hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and returned to his desk. He was determined to resume his work as though nothing had happened.

He needed to get back to his routine.

He picked up the ledger, but the numbers simply swam in front of him. He tried harder to focus, but the only thing he could see was Ava’s tear-streaked face. His chest tightened.

Edwin slammed the ledger shut. It was of no use. He could not possibly get any more work done today, and it was so late in the night.

With that, he left his study and headed for his bedchamber.

As he passed Ava’s door, he slowed down. He itched to see her—ached for it, in fact. Every step he took away from her room felt like letting her slip through his fingers. He did not trust himself not to go into her room, so he quickened his pace.

He hit his bed, and for the first time in his adult years, he felt alone—lonely even. Even though they had not started sharing a bed, he wished he could sleep next to her, cuddling with the woman he loved.

Edwin squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block out thoughts of her. He tossed and turned, trying to find the perfect position, but nothing seemed to work.

He feltrestless.

He closed his eyes again, willing thoughts of her away.

Sleep was a much-needed respite from his inner turmoil, but it evaded him. It did not matter how much he tossed and turned on the bed, or how long he kept his eyes shut; he was still wide awake.

With a sigh, Edwin opened his eyes and sat up. Trying to sleep was no use, and he knew why.

He decided there and then to do something about it.

This time, he did not give space for his mind to talk him out of it. He went right to Ava’s door and popped it open. She might begone by the time he woke up tomorrow—and that was if he ever got some sleep.

I need to talk with her right now.

Edwin stepped into his wife’s dimly lit room. It took a while for his eyes to adjust fully to the darkness. He saw the outline of the bed and approached it.

He stared in wonder as he finally got to her. Her face was illuminated by the moonlight that filtered through the balcony, and she was fast asleep. Unlike him.

Her eyes were shut, and her lips were slightly parted. The only sound he could hear was her soft snores. His heart swelled as he drank her in.

“Ava,” he whispered.

He peered closely at her and saw a white streak that traveled from the corner of her eye down to her cheek.

She had cried herself to sleep, and he was the reason.

Edwin was hit with a wave of guilt. He could imagine her hunched over in her bed, her whole body racked with sobs.

What have I done?