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G arland Hall settled into a reasonably harmonious household over the next week.

The staff enjoyed having guests, which they had not had for many years.

They loved the sound of a child’s running feet through the halls and Timmy’s laughter.

Patrick, too, was happy… and would be even more so if Jack Spode could be run to ground.

Every time Sophie was out of his sight, he felt a slither of panic, even though he knew she was safe. Spode was in London.

Sophie. She had brought something into his life he hadn’t known he was missing. Happiness. The small cold knot of pain that he’d always carried was unraveling. She was healing him, and Patrick could feel himself changing.

He’d woken early and gone to the nursery to find Timmy already awake. His nanny, clearly an early riser, too, had dressed him, and now they were outside, walking through the gardens.

“We’ll pick flowers for Fee.”

“I think she’d love that, Timmy.”

He was growing to love this boy, too, and already loved his enthusiasm and laughter. He had a strong will that often clashed with Sophie’s, and when Letty was not there, it would be Patrick who stepped in to mediate.

“Good morning, Timmy.”

Amelia Logan was coming toward them in yet another ill-fitting dress with Doddy at her side. She looked sad, Patrick thought.

“Are you well, Miss Logan?”

“Amelia, please.”

“And I am Patrick,” he said.

“I am not unwell, Patrick, just sad.”

“My parents had no capacity to love, Amelia,” he said slowly. “It is not an easy thing to bear. I had sisters who did love me, so I was lucky.”

She sighed. “I think my mother is incapable of love.”

“But not always, as I understand it,” he said, remembering what Sophie had told him about her mother and Letty being friends.

“No, not always, but for as long as I can remember. She can find no good in the world. Nothing to make her happy—not even me.”

“Which is surely her fault and not yours. The blame does not lie at your feet, Amelia, and it took me many years to realize that and stop trying to seek out something my parents would never give me.”

She looked up at him with sad eyes. “Love?”

“Yes, love. I closed myself off from that for many years because I had no wish to ever be hurt again. I would not wish that for you, Amelia, especially as you are not alone and have a family here.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“I kept trying to change her. To do everything she wanted of me, but it is never enough,” she whispered.

“We are all who we are because of our past, and your mother is no different. Her burdens are hers alone. Don’t let them become yours.”

To his surprise, she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, and allow me to say that I can see how happy you have made my friend, so thank you for that also.”

He watched her walk away and wondered at the changes in him. The old Patrick would have avoided a conversation like that by running fast in the opposite direction.

Smiling, he collected Timmy and continued on with their walk.

After handing the boy to his nanny, Patrick went back to his rooms to find Sophie, because the man Patrick had become needed to see if she was all right. Needed to see her. She wasn’t there.

Walking through the house, he looked for her. She wasn’t in the breakfast room; only Letty was there, and she had not seen Sophie.

Of course, he knew she was safe. She was here in their house, surrounded by staff and guests, so nothing would have happened to her. But the first fissure of fear had him moving faster.

He searched the top two floors, and any servant he encountered had not seen the Countess of Coulter.

The fear was real as he ran down the stairs to the lower level. Had Jack Spode managed to get inside the house? Did he even now have his hands on Sophie? Panic had him running.

“My lord, may I assist you?” Ribble asked when he reached the stairs.

“I am looking for my wife, Ribble.”

“I have yet to see her, my lord, but I will check in the kitchens. She was down there yesterday.”

“In the kitchens?”

His butler nodded.

“I will check.” Patrick ran down the stairs and into the kitchens, stopping when he heard voices.

“Well, as to that, my lady, Mr. Gumbrill and I were married for near enough thirty years before he was taken from me. We were blessed with three children, and they all live in the local village except for Billy, who works for a doctor and his family in London.”

“How lovely they are all so close,” he heard Sophie say.

The relief at hearing her voice nearly dropped him to his knees.

“Do you have any grandchildren, Mrs. Gumbrill?” Sophie asked.

“Five, my lady—three boys and two girls. Sweet young things they are too. I see them as often as I’m able.”

After taking a deep breath, he walked to where the women sat.

“Lord Coulter!” Mrs. Gumbrill said.

Sophie was sitting in a chair, and a plate sprinkled with crumbs was on the table before her. Her smile fell away as she looked at him.

“What’s wrong?” She climbed to her feet.

“I couldn’t find you,” Patrick gritted out.

“Well, if that will be all, my lady,” Mrs. Gumbrill said as she regained her feet and left the room with a remarkable turn of speed, considering her bulk.

“Thank you,” Sophie called after her.

“Hell, Sophie! Have you any idea what I thought when I couldn’t find you?”

“You were rude to Mrs. Gumbrill,” Sophie said, still looking toward the now-empty doorway.

“She’ll get over it,” Patrick snapped. “I, however, would like your assurance that you will never scare me like this again.”

“I was in the kitchen,” Sophie said calmly, which annoyed him more, as he was anything but calm. “Inside the house,” she added, sounding entirely too rational.

Whereas he was irrational.

“Promise me, Sophie.”

“Patrick, you’re being unreasonable.”

“Promise me.” Her eyes widened at his tone, but he was beyond seeing reason. Fear still held him in its ugly talons.

“I will not promise you because you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable!” Patrick roared. “For Christ’s sake, you have a bullet hole in your arm, woman.”

“Do not curse at me!”

“I would not have to if you weren’t so bloody foolish! And you curse like a sailor, woman!”

“I’m in my own house, Patrick. Surely I am safe here.” Sophie’s voice had risen to meet his now.

For some reason, hearing her say she should be safe in her own house enraged Patrick further, because she should be.

“You are safe when I tell you so and not before, and you will do as I damn well say! Is that understood?”

Her chin lifted.

He stepped forward until his nose was almost pressed to hers. “I would think, given your previous life, you would understand how to follow orders, madam.”

Had he slapped her the effect would have been the same. Sophie stepped back and away from him.

He reached for her.

“Please do not touch me, my lord. I completely understand.” Her words were so cold, it was amazing he didn’t turn to ice.

“Let me explain,” Patrick said.

She walked away from him, head high, and marching up the stairs, she disappeared before he could say another word.

Closing his eyes, Patrick squeezed the bridge of his nose hard. When had he ever spoken without thought or spoken in anger? And to do so to his wife, the woman he cared about, was inexcusable.

Love, he realized, was making a fool of him.