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Sara fell back against the squabs. “Pardon me?”

“I’ve thought the situation through, and it’s the only solution.”

“The solution to what?” A sinking embarrassment sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Did he feel obliged to offer marriage because of that kiss?

“Evie needs you. You need a home.” He lifted his hands as though it was the most logical idea in the world. Apparently, he’d forgotten all about their embrace.

“Those are not reasons to marry.” She ought to nip his proposal in the bud. She would, as soon as the world stopped spinning and she could make sense of his words.

“This is ridiculous. Stop the carriage at once.” Sara leaned forward, putting her hand on the door latch. She had to escape before she succumbed to the lure of his words and did something foolish. Like agree to this wild suggestion.

He put his hand over hers, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand and sending a shiver through her.

Her eyes focused on his fingers, strong and capable, sheltering hers.

The touch reminded her of the way his hands had slid up her back to embrace her.

The way his lips had lowered to hers, warm and smooth, until she’d felt his kiss all the way to her toes.

He’d kissed her. Now he wanted to marry her.

What had happened to straightlaced, serious James Kinney?

“You can’t stay on as Evie’s governess. I see that now. You’re too—” He waved a hand at her, and she became acutely aware of her stained dress.

She reached a hand up and straightened her mobcap that was, as she suspected, completely askew. “I’m a servant, is that what you mean?” He probably regretted that impulsive embrace and was doing his best to put a good face on it.

“You’re too beautiful.” He pressed his lips together as though he regretted the words.

A warm glow coursed through her. He thought she was beautiful. His kiss and his words spun a web around her until she didn’t know which way was up. She shook her head. She didn’t want this attraction, no matter how his touch reminded her of what it felt like to live again.

“Look,” he said, sighing. “When I pulled Evie out of Miss Giblin’s classes, she just... froze. Didn’t cry, didn’t even ask about you after that first time. She wouldn’t talk to anyone. It’s like she stepped back from life. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Sara understood. It was exactly what she’d done when Colin died. She turned to stare out the dusty window. But she couldn’t continue like that, not now. Now she couldn’t stop feeling.

“Since you came, she’s different. I’ve never seen her so happy. She needs you, Sara.”

“But marriage?” Sara searched his face, looking for clues to his feelings. He spoke as though she were merely the solution to a problem, but she couldn’t forget the way he’d held her or the heat in his eyes. There had been nothing practical about that.

“There are benefits for you, as well,” James continued. She wondered if this was how he sounded in the courtroom. Logical. Persuasive. “You would be comfortable. No more scrubbing.”

She looked at James, trying to see past his calm confidence. He could have married a new mother for Evie any time these past years. Why choose a servant?

James must have sensed her hesitation, for he continued, his tone more persuasive than ever. “Evie needs someone who understands and appreciates her for who she is. Loves her.”

Her resolve weakened. “I do love her,” she whispered.

She’d known within a day of their meeting that Evie was the daughter she’d never have.

If she were married to James, if she were Evie’s mother, she’d never have to leave.

She leaned back in her seat, her eyes searching James’s face.

“What about you? What do you want out of this marriage?”

At her words, he dropped his eyes. “I’d make no demands on you.

” A flush of color spread up his neck and she wondered if he was reliving their kiss.

“I’ve apologized for my embrace. I won’t force my.

.. attentions on you.” His face was red now, and his voice lost its clear, purposeful tone.

Did he regret their kiss? Did she? Perhaps.

Her feelings for James Kinney were more muddled than ever now.

He cleared his throat. “This marriage isn’t about the two of us. It’s about family. Stability.”

Family. The word brought back every reason she couldn’t say yes.

There was so much he didn’t know. She’d defied her father.

Run off with a stable boy. Osgoode might hold a grudge against James, but that was nothing compared with the vendetta he nurtured against her.

“But... that man.” She forced the words out past the lump in her throat.

Would she never be free of Stephen Osgoode? “He said he’d ruin you.”

“Osgoode?” James’s lip curled. “I’d like to see him try.

” Sara opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a single finger over her lips, warm and smooth.

“He can’t spread rumors if you’re my wife, Sara.

” His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he pulled away, his finger brushing her lower lip.

His eyes snapped back to hers with a sharp intake of breath.

“There might be gossip at first, but it will fade.”

Her mind spun, weaving possibilities and hopes, trying desperately to piece together a future with James and Evie.

Osgoode wanted her inheritance, not her.

If she were married to James, it was in his best interest to keep her identity a secret.

But there would be dinners, assemblies. There was still the danger that she’d be recognized, and her reputation would taint James and Evie.

“I can’t go out in society,” she blurted out. “I’d be useless to you.”

James shook his head. “That’s not what I want. I’ve had enough of society to last a lifetime.” He looked into her eyes. “The past is in the past. This will be a fresh start for both of us.”

Her eyes closed for a long moment. A fresh start.

Was it possible? She could stay in that haven on Duke Street and steer Evie to adulthood, never feeling hunger or cold again.

Osgoode’s threats and the heart-stopping terror she’d felt when that innkeeper had grabbed her arm would be a distant memory.

She’d prayed for help. For another chance to live. Was this proposal her answer?

“Trust me, Sara. I’ll keep you safe.”

She felt again the rush of relief when she’d heard his voice behind that squalid inn, the warmth and security of his arms around her. She was seized by a sudden, reckless need to grasp the dream before it evaporated.

“Yes.”

He was silent for a moment, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. “P-Pardon me?”

“I agree.” Sara’s throat was so tight, she could barely get the words out, hope and fear mingling in a tight knot that was almost painful. “I’ll marry you.”

He swallowed. “Thank you.”

There was surprise in his voice and a question behind his words, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t—explain.

“When?” she managed.

“I’ll get a special license.” James answered immediately, as though he’d already worked out the details. He was a barrister. He probably had everything planned to the minute. “I don’t think we should wait until Osgoode can work his mischief. We can be married by Monday, if I can manage it.”

Osgoode. At the name, a sick feeling rose in her throat, but she forced it down. If she married James, she’d be free of the man. She breathed easier and attempted to return James’s confident smile.

Her past was dead and buried, as cold and silent as a tomb. She only had to keep it that way.

James spent the next day securing the license and tracking Andrew down.

Despite the distance between them lately, Andrew was the closest he had to family.

From the glimpse of him he’d had at Davies’ Tavern, he knew Andrew was back in the city.

James took up a position outside his lodgings until he saw his friend’s tall, lanky form swing into view.

James stepped out of the shadows. “Andrew.” Andrew swung about. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as though he needed a wash and a shave. He must have been up all night at that meeting. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He didn’t meet James’s eyes. “Ballantine sent you to rein me in, did he?”

James sighed, “No. But someone should talk sense into you.”

“Bah. You’re an old woman.” Andrew dismissed his concerns with a swipe of his hand. “This is the time for action, James.” He unlocked his door, his eyes sweeping the street before pulling James in after him.

James sighed, following Andrew up the stairs and into his rooms. They entered a snug sitting room overlooking the street, furnished with two armchairs and a small table.

A fire crackled in the hearth, thanks to Andrew’s manservant, who met them at the door to take Andrew’s coat.

James refused the courtesy and the offer of refreshments.

He didn’t intend to stay long, nor get embroiled in a political debate.

Andrew waved the man away and gestured for James to join him in the armchairs. “I’m sorry about that meeting at Montgomery’s.”

James almost smiled. Now he apologized? “Where were you?”

Andrew shrugged. “Mackenzie is unpredictable. He decided to go to Newmarket and there was no way to get word to you.”

James’s finger gripped the arms of his chair. Anger wouldn’t serve his purpose today. “I see.”

Andrew seemed unaware of his irritation. “Have you decided?” He sounded like a child encouraging his friend to join in a game. “Will you join us?”

“I’m not going to risk my family’s future for some half-baked rebellion.” James sighed, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “The kind of change we need doesn’t come about with violence.”

Before James had even finished speaking, Andrew started shaking his head. “Once they see our numbers, once they realize how serious we are, there won’t be any need for violence.”

“There’s a better way.” James leaned forward in his chair. It was the first time he’d articulated the idea that had been brewing in his head for days. “We’re not military men. We don’t know battle strategy... we know the law. We can bring change through the law, not by fighting against it.”

“It’s too late for that, James.”

“It’s never too late to do what’s right. I’ve thought it through. We could challenge the power of the rich in this city. Represent cases that really mean something. Make people see that things could change.”

Andrew squeezed his eyes shut. “No, I mean, it’s too late for me . I’ve made a commitment. There are things you don’t know.” His eyes popped open. “Please, James. Come with me.”

“I can’t.” James cleared his throat. There was no easy way to introduce the purpose of his visit. “I—I’m thinking about getting married.”

“What?” Andrew’s mouth dropped open. “To that Wilson chit?” His eyes grew wide, as well they should. Marriage to the simpering debutante of Ballantine’s choosing would be nothing short of disastrous.

“Of course not.” James paused. “To Sara O’Connor.”

Andrew was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching James’s face. “You’re serious.” His voice rose. “Are you out of your mind? You don’t know anything about that woman.”

James jumped out of his seat and paced to the window.

Andrew hit a nerve. He didn’t know everything about Sara, but he knew enough.

She’d been hurt by a family who rejected her.

In time, she’d open up and tell him everything.

For now, he couldn’t demand more, not when he had no intention of sharing every harrowing moment of his story with her.

The past was in the past, wasn’t that what he’d told her?

“I know all I need to. She’s a good, honorable woman. She loves Evie and Evie loves her.”

“Evie’s not marrying her. You are. She’ll turn your life upside down. She could ruin your career. Don’t underestimate the power a wife wields.”

James gave a short bark of laughter. “I’m well aware of the power of a wife.

” He held Andrew’s eye until the younger man looked away, a slight flush on his cheeks.

He’d never said a word against Amelia, but Andrew was perceptive.

He must have noticed the tensions between them in those final months.

Amelia complained to anyone who would listen about the inadequate size of their parlor and planned parties they hadn’t the means to host. “How would you know, anyway?” James attempted to lighten the mood.

“Got a sweetheart hidden away that I don’t know about?

” A dull red color swept up Andrew’s cheeks.

Instead of the glib answer James had expected, his barb had found its mark.

“Of course not,” Andrew said, glaring at James beneath lowered brows. “Don’t try to change the topic. You’re marrying a servant woman you know nothing about. She’s bewitched you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. This is a practical arrangement.”

“Practical, eh? A long engagement, then. No need to rush things.”

“As soon as possible.”

“What? James, you must consider—”

“I’ve given my word. It’s all set.” He couldn’t lose her, and if that meant a final break with the man who had once been his closest friend, so be it.

But he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He cleared his throat.

“I-I’d like you to stand up with me.” Andrew pursed his lips, his face inscrutable.

James went on, “If you just got to know her, you’d see why I—why Evie loves her so much.

” Andrew’s gaze searched his face and James wondered what his expression gave away.

He realized he was standing tense, his fists clenched, and forced himself to relax.

“At least give her a chance. For Evie’s sake. ”

At the mention of his niece, Andrew’s face softened. He inhaled and nodded once. “Very well. I—I’ll try. For Evie’s sake.”

A rush of relief brought a smile to James’s face. “Thank you. The ceremony is Monday morning.”

“Monday?” Andrew looked shocked.

“Yes.” James drew out the word with a slight question at the end. There was nothing unusual in the choice. “Reverend Wilkie said he’ll come at ten o’clock.”

“I... I can’t Monday.” Andrew rose and paced to the decanter and glasses on the side table.

“There are no trials scheduled for Monday. I’ve already informed the clerks.” James’s words didn’t placate Andrew in the least, who poured himself a brandy and paced to the window. “I need you there, Andrew. You’re all the family I have.”

Andrew’s shoulders sagged. He tossed back his drink, then turned to James, his face grim. “Fine. I’ll try to be there. Unless you change your mind before then.” He shook his head, his eyes mocking. “I’m not sure I know who you are anymore, James Kinney. You always said I was the impulsive one.”