"You've lost your independence," he said consideringly, "but marriage has taken that from you, Theo, not I – and you agreed to this marriage of your own accord."

"I believed I would be benefiting my sisters by marrying you, and that wasn't the case."

Sylvester sat up. "No, it wasn't," he agreed evenly. Her hands were making impossible knots in her lap, and he took them between both of his. "Listen to me. When I first came here, I intended to marry one of you. I assumed it would be Clarissa because she was the elder. Your mother said very firmly that Clarissa and I would not suit." A slight smile touched his lips, and his grip tightened on her hands. "I certainly wouldn't dispute that. But you and I, Theo, do suit."

"When did you decide that?"

"From the very first," he said, releasing her hands and taking her chin. "From the first curse you threw at my head, gypsy." He laughed softly, running his thumb over her mouth. "Such a tempestuous, fiery, combative creature you are. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

She wanted to believe that. Oh, how she wanted to believe it.

"If you'd wanted me for myself, why didn't you simply tell me the truth and court me for myself?"

Sylvester shook his head, and a flash of exasperation appeared in the gray eyes. "My dear girl, be realistic. A Gilbraith taking over your beloved manor! You'd have laughed in my face and sent me about my business without a backward glance."

He stood up and refastened his britches, looking down at her as she continued to sit amid her ruined garments.

"You may have lost your independence, Theo, but so, to a large extent, have I."

Theo looked doubtful. "I don't see how that works. It seems women give up everything and men simply gain everything." She rose to her feet, gathering her tatters around her.

Sylvester ran a hand through his crisp curls and over the back of his neck. "One day I hope that you'll feel you've gained much more than you've lost," he said finally.

Theo, her hand on the key in the lock, paused as if she would say something; then quietly she unlocked the door and left.

A heavy silence fell like a pall at her departure. Sylvester poured himself a glass of madeira and sat in a chair beside the hearth, where a copper jug of golden chrysanthemums blazed in the place of a fire. He'd won a victory, but it was hardly conclusive, and he'd used a weapon he'd promised himself he wouldn't use against Theo again. He'd sworn he would use her passion only for their shared pleasure. But surely there was a greater good to be served here…

"Lady Belmont, my lord." Foster spoke from the library door, and Elinor entered, her face shaded by the wide brim of her straw hat.

"This is an unexpected pleasure, ma'am." Stoneridge moved forward, hand outstretched in welcome, wondering what would have happened if his mother-in-law had arrived half an hour earlier to find her daughter behind a locked door in the throes of passion on the library floor. Knowing Elinor, she'd have slipped quietly away, and they'd have been none the wiser. The thought brought a flicker of amusement, lightening his somber mood.

"I trust I'm not intruding," Elinor said pleasantly, taking his hand.

"Not at all," he said. "Theo is upstairs, I believe. Foster will let her know you're here. May I offer you a glass of madeira?"

"Thank you." Elinor turned to the butler. "I'll go up and see Lady Theo in a minute, Foster. There's no need to disturb her. I wish to have a word with Lord Stoneridge first."

Sylvester raised an eyebrow as he turned to the decanter, wondering what could be behind this tete-a-tete. "Ma'am." He placed a glass on the small table beside the chair where Elinor had seated herself.

"Thank you." She drew off her gloves in a businesslike fashion. "I'll come straight to the point. I have it in mind to go to London for the coming Season. Thanks to your generosity…" She inclined her head as she sipped her madeira. "Thanks to your generosity over the girls' dowries, I am well able to afford a come-out for Emily and Clarissa. Emily should have been presented two years ago, but with her grandfather's illness it wasn't possible."

"No, of course not," Sylvester murmured, taking a seat opposite her, wincing at this reference to his generosity. At least Theo wasn't around to hear it. "Would you wish to open Belmont House? I should be delighted to put it at your disposal, of course…"

"Good heavens, no," Elinor said. "I wouldn't dream of expecting to be a charge on you, Stoneridge. I shall hire a suitable house for myself and the girls. Lawyer Crighton shall see to it for me. But it's Theo I wish to discuss with you."

He frowned. "You wish her to accompany you?"

Elinor replaced her glass on the table. "I was hoping to persuade you to take her yourself. She should be presented at court, and while, of course, I'll sponsor her, it would be more appropriate if she were under her husband's roof." She sat back, watching his reaction, her expression hidden by her hat brim.

Sylvester's mind whirled. To go to London. To face the turned shoulders, the raised eyebrows, the whispers.

To face them and face them down. Either that or he must hide out in this backwater for the rest of his life, waiting in dread for his dishonor to catch up with him. Waiting in dread for his dishonor to be revealed to his wife. Without a wife… without such a wife as Theo… he could have lived with his private shame, as he had done for the last year. But now it was different.

Neil Gerard's face, as it had been at the court-martial, rose in his mind's eye. Neil had averted his gaze, and Sylvester had assumed it was his friend's embarrassment. Gerard couldn't in honesty clear his old friend's name, so he was evasive. And Sylvester had read his own guilt in that evasion and had turned his own head aside to spare Neil further discomfort.

He'd avoided Neil after the court-martial. The one occasion they'd met, his erstwhile friend had given him the cut direct in public, and he hadn't been prepared to court a repetition of that mortification. Like the coward he'd been labeled, he'd fled the scene of his shame. But how long was he to go on in this fashion?

"Lord Stoneridge?" Elinor's soft voice broke into his reverie. She was looking puzzled, and he realized he'd been silent for a long time.

He rose to his feet, crossing to the sideboard to refill his glass. "It wouldn't hurt that ramshackle hoyden to acquire a little town bronze, ma'am," he said with a smile.

Elinor laughed. "My thinking exactly. So you'll open Belmont House for the Season."

"I bow to your judgment, Lady Belmont. But I think I'll leave you to persuade Theo. I don't see her embracing the idea with enthusiasm – she's too wedded to Stoneridge and its affairs."

"Very true," Elinor said briskly. "But her sisters will be most persuasive, and as long as we have your support…" She stood up, drawing on her gloves again.

"You have it for what it's worth," he said wryly.

"Then I'll go and tackle her at once."

Sylvester bowed his mother-in-law from the library and then stood in frowning thought, wondering what he'd let himself in for. Theo would wonder why her husband was a social pariah. She would hear the rumors…

If only he could remember what had happened that day at Vimiera, if only he could prove the rumors false once and for all. There had to be another explanation for what had happened. And there had to be a way to discover the truth.