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No daughter of mine will join herself to a common stable boy. What’s his name? What’s his family? What, no answer for me? He’s nothing, that’s why. You associate with him, and you’ll be nothing to me as well. As if you’ve never been born.

Sara swallowed. The words were as sharp and poisonous now as they’d been years ago. In that moment, Sara forgot all about keeping her head down and minding her place. “So, Henry is a fine lad when he helps you out of a tricky spot, but not good enough to associate with your daughter?”

“That’s not—

“Yes, I understand. Blood will tell, and all that.” She didn’t try to stem the sarcasm in her voice.

“It’s a wonder you let your daughter within ten yards of me .

” Sara turned on her heel and marched to the door.

Through the haze of anger, she registered that James was following her, but she refused to slow her steps.

“Miss O’Connor. Sara. Wait—” He reached out, his fingers encircling her wrist, bringing her to a stop.

He swung her about to face him. “You misunderstand me. Perhaps a few months ago, I would have judged and dismissed Henry on sight. But I’ve talked to the boy.

He’s clever. Cares about Evie, too, more than those Cooper girls ever did.

” He released her to run his fingers through his hair.

“I thought it over these past few days, all the mistakes I’ve made.

I tried to do what was right, what I thought her mother would have wanted.

” James stepped closer, all but forcing her to look him in the face.

“But I went about it all wrong. Look what happened at the inn.”

Sara swallowed, the rush of anger evaporating in the face of James’s admission. “Well... I heard the Goblin did come highly recommended.”

A tentative smile curled the corners of his mouth. “She was a tyrant. And I might never have figured it out if it weren’t for you.”

Sara was speechless. James Kinney, successful barrister, was admitting he’d been wrong ?

James cleared his throat. “I told Henry he was welcome here, as long as he didn’t shirk his responsibilities. I might drop a word in Rawley’s ear, too. Make sure the lad doesn’t get himself in trouble. That is, if you don’t mind another student?”

“No,” she said. A funny warmth bloomed in her chest. “I don’t mind.”

When they’d first met, she’d thought James Kinney was as much a snob as Andrew Ridley or Stephen Osgoode. Yet he surprised her at every turn with openness and generosity that she’d not expected from a barrister.

The thought left her shaky and uncertain. James Kinney was still part of the world that had rejected her and made no room for Colin. Only time would tell if he were truly a man she could trust.

“Papa,” Evie said over supper. “Might we play a game tonight?”

James looked up from his pudding, surprised. Parlor games were usually Uncle Andrew’s territory.

“A game?”

“From my girl’s book. You said we could try the handkerchief game the next time Uncle Andrew came.”

“Uncle Andrew’s not—”

But she’d already darted from the table. James sat back, taking a sip of his tea. Evie was right. There was no sense waiting for Andrew.

He’d ridden to Montgomery’s Tavern that afternoon only to find it deserted. No word from Andrew, no sign of a meeting anywhere. He couldn’t believe Andrew had deliberately misled him, but there was no other explanation, was there?

Two sets of footsteps soon came down the hall. A moment later, Evie peeked her head into the dining room. “Come to the parlor, Papa. We’re ready.”

James jumped up and pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, ignoring the way his heart gave a leap.

He entered the parlor, remembering at the last moment to slow his steps to a natural pace, his eyes seeking Sara out.

She sat on the settee, all her concentration focused on the book on her lap. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Evie, I thought you said—” She broke off, looking away and biting her lip. He brushed aside the spurt of disappointment. She hadn’t thought he would come. Well, that explained how Evie got her to agree to a parlor game when she so rarely left the kitchen in the evenings.

“Papa, you must stand here while we hold the corners of the handkerchief. When you say, ‘Hold fast,’ we let go. And when you say, ‘Let go,’ we hold on.” Evie shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that hard.”

But it turned out to be harder than she thought, doing exactly the opposite of what he told them. Evie soon collapsed into giggles.

“You win, Sara. Now it’s my turn to give the orders,” she announced, catching her breath. “Papa, you hold two corners.”

As James edged closer, the smile on Sara’s face faded.

She kept her eyes glued to her hands. They stood only the width of a handkerchief apart.

So close, he could smell the hint of roses in her hair and count the faint sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

He must have been mad to agree to this game.

A crease formed between her brows, and it soon became apparent she’d lost her former concentration. He would certainly be winning if he weren’t too distracted by her nearness to focus on Evie’s commands.

“Let go,” Evie said.

They both released the cloth. James bent to catch a corner at the same time Sara reached down.

Their fingers tangled together as they grabbed for the falling square of fabric.

A jolt of awareness shot up his arm and spread through his body, leaving his heart pounding and all his attention centered on the feel of her fingers entwined with his.

He commanded his hand to let go. Instead, his fingers curled around hers and his thumb rubbed across the smooth skin on the back of her hand.

Her breath caught and she looked up, her eyes wide and wary.

He had a sudden wild urge to pull her closer, wrap his arms around her and lose himself in her softness.

Sara tugged harder and James dropped her hand and took a hasty step back.

“You two are so slow,” Evie said in exasperation. “We’d better try a different game.” Evie darted to the door. “Could you pick it out? I’m going to fetch a plate of biscuits.”

“Oh, but I—” Sara’s hesitation was lost in the flurry of Evie’s movement as she darted off to the kitchen, leaving the two of them standing in an uncomfortable silence.

Sara moved to the hearth and stood with her back to him, staring into the flames. He remembered another evening when they’d worked together in the glow of the fire. Shared their lives. Now there was a distance between them he didn’t like. He wanted the laundress Sara O’Connor back.

“James,” she said, turning suddenly. After days of avoiding him, the intensity of her direct gaze made his breath catch. He wondered if she realized she’d used his given name. “A man came here today.”

Her words brought an abrupt end to his wandering thoughts. “What did he want?” He took a step closer, scanning her face as his heart pumped. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing like that. He... he wanted to know your whereabouts. Seemed quite insistent on it.” She paused but he kept his lips sealed. The less she knew of rebellions and Andrew Ridley, the better.

“Did he leave a name?”

She seemed on the verge of speaking, but then closed her mouth and shook her head. “What did he look like?”

“Tall,” she muttered. “Pale hair and eyes...” She gave a tiny shudder, the movement so slight he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t had all his attention trained on her.

Osgoode. If the man had dared to—“You’re certain he didn’t harm you in any way?”

“No. He... I just—I didn’t like the look of him. I was worried.” She shrugged, looking down as a hint of color tinted her cheeks. “I just thought you should know.”

He wondered how much he should share with her. “Probably just an anxious client,” he said, opting for caution. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

She was completely still for a long moment. Then she raised her chin and looked at him. He almost took a step back at the raw emotion in her eyes. “Be careful. He’s a dangerous man.” She bit her lip, turning to stare at the fire. “That is, he seemed like a man you wouldn’t want to cross.”

James tilted his head. Most people couldn’t see past Stephen Osgoode’s suave exterior, but Sara was perceptive. A good woman to have in his corner.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m a barrister, remember? I’m good at getting out of trouble.”

Their eyes met, hers soft and luminous in the evening shadows. He watched the tremulous smile on her lips and felt the answering smile stretch his face. She tilted her chin up and drew closer. Or was he drawing closer to her?

They sprang apart at the sound of Evie’s footsteps in the hall. James ran a hand through his hair.

Beside him, Sara expelled a shaky breath. “I—I don’t think I’ll play again, after all. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as she passed Evie in the hall, disappearing into the kitchen before he could respond.

Good thing, because he still didn’t trust his voice. Sara’s presence in his life upended all his certainties. It wasn’t only Evie who came alive in her presence. He should be worrying about Andrew Ridley’s whereabouts and threats of violence. But all he could think of was her.

He was drawn to her, that was clear. He wanted to follow the thread of connection between them and see where it led, but that was a fool’s errand.

She was his daughter’s governess. Pursuing her would bring scandal down upon them all.

Besides, he wasn’t husband material. His marriage to Amelia had taught him that much.

He’d controlled himself before, buckled down and buried his passions. Learned how to live without the love or companionship of a partner. He could do it again.