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only one night.” The words were rough at the edges, as their night together flooded her with memories. She’d endured mortification and shame far worse than being considered the mother of an illegitimate child.
    “It’s getting dark. We should return to the house before your father comes searching for us, convinced I’ve yet again had my way with you.”
    She spun around, her gaze leveling on his. She searched for some understanding, some hint regarding his abrupt dismissal of the situation. “What of John? What are we to do about him?”
    “I don’t know. We still need to discuss that.”
    “He’s not a that . He’s a babe, a child, a delight.”
    “I was referring to that topic. You’re extremely protective of him.”
    “He deserves better than he’s had so far.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Better than his mother?”
    Was he trying to trick her? Did he know the truth? Did he suspect—
    “I’m not enough. I can give him love, but it will not keep him warm, or his belly full, or protect him from harm.”
    “Who would harm him?”
    She glanced past him. “No one, I’m sure. I meant harm in the general sense.”
    “You’ll stay the night.”
    He immediately began trudging back toward the house, his limp more pronounced.
    “What do you mean I’ll stay the night?” she asked as she grabbed his arm.
    He jerked beyond reach. He acted as though he couldn’t bear her touch, when she knew he’d once been a man who relished any contact with women. What exactly had happened to him after she’d left the hospital?
    She wanted to comfort him as he’d once comforted her, but where to even begin?
    “We still have much to work out,” he said. “We have an ungodly abundance of rooms here. I’m certain you could be hidden away in one and I’d never find you.”
    With a nod, she began walking, and he strove to catch up.
    “Your limp is more pronounced than it was earlier,” she said softly, slowing her pace.
    “The cold aggravates it.”
    “What was the injury?”
    “A ghastly gash, hip to knee. It’s still healing. I don’t know if I’ll ever walk without the pain. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate to still have possession of my leg. My head constantly aches—” He stopped, sighed deeply. “My apologies. It was not my intention to burden you with my various afflictions.”
    “No, I . . . I wish I’d been there to tend to your wounds. I’d already left. Miss N had no tolerance for . . . inappropriate behavior.”
    “It must have been very difficult for you.”
    “I will do anything for John. Anything at all.”
    His lips curved up slowly into a semblance of a smile, as though he’d grown unaccustomed to using those muscles. “He’s a very lucky fellow.”
    She could only hope that Major Lyons would always believe that.

Chapter 2

    S itting at the vanity, Mercy met her gaze in the mirror. It was a bit more difficult to do than it had been yesterday. She’d have to be quick on her feet tonight.
    She’d been prepared to stay—only because her father wouldn’t accept any other outcome regarding this visit. He’d had her trunk packed and loaded on the coach. If she’d not been welcomed here, he’d have left her on the side of the road. Her and John. How could he not love John? An innocent babe caught in a web of deceit.
    Mercy fought not to think about it as the abigail the duchess sent her worked to arrange her unruly hair. It behaved much better when it was bound tightly, although she couldn’t deny that the maid’s skillful hands were hiding its imperfections.
    With the duke and his mother vouching for her safety and the return of her good name, her father had taken his leave as though the matter were settled. When it wasn’t. Far from it. Still she felt safe here. More important, John was safe here. She’d seen the way the duchess had looked at the babe. Already she loved him. He was incredibly easy to love.
    He’d taken that attribute from his father. Although