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longer considered him a fit husband. He then immediately rejected his nonsensical reaction. He knew he was not suitable husband material for her; it could only help matters that she should know it as well.
    Her voice trembled as she replied. "I don't see why you think I would do something so horrid. Even as desperate as I am, I know that a man cannot have two wives."
    He glanced at her. She was crying once again, quiet tears instead of wrenching sobs. "And I don't think your wife would appreciate your cavalier attitude, either."
    It took a moment for her words to make sense. When they did, they struck with the impact of a lightning bolt. His wife? She thought he already had a wife.
    "Emily." He saw the flush of shame start up her neck and he realized that if she had not thought him a married man, she might already have suggested they make a run for the border. Perhaps he should not disabuse her of the notion of his marriage. Her flush had risen to the top of her forehead when she spoke through her tears. "I know it was wrong of me, Valentine. I behaved so badly. I will apologize to your wife. I will explain it all, tell her it was all my fault."
    He could not lie to her. "Emily" he said, hoping he was not making a mistake. Hoping he could be strong enough to keep them apart if she was not. "I am not married."
    * * * * *
    Emily could not take her eyes from Valentine. He was not married. This man who had caught her in his arms, and lain in her bed as her mother and her fiance tried to force her into an unwanted marriage. But how was it possible? Her mother had seen the notice. Or had she? It was completely believable that her mother had lied. No doubt she had considered the lie a necessity to cut off Emily's hopes.
    All her perceptions shifted as she stood in her familiar room. This man who now stood in her bedroom where she could see him, touch him if she dared, as he stretched and eased his tight muscles, smoothed the wrinkles from his clothing as best he could, ran his fingers through his hair, and watched her with wary eyes.
    She needed him to confirm the truth once more. "You have no wife?"
    He shook his head, but there was a caution in his gaze that made her heart still. Was he lying to her? Was he perhaps on the verge of marriage as she herself was?
    His next words dispelled that possibility. "Surely you understand that I am not in a position to take a wife? I have barely begun the job of patching up the leaks my father left in the estate."
    "But . . . an heiress . . ." It had been his original plan, before he met her, after all.
    His eyes darkened with anger‚ or pain. "I will depend on no woman's money. How can I look across the table every day at a woman who knows I am a purchased husband? No. Marriage can wait."
    The fierce burn of her anger toward her mother died suddenly in a new realization. Emily felt at once a great relief and a terrible understanding. Valentine had been free and he had not come after her, not even — She broke the thought. He had, after all, come to warn her that Lord Granbury would not make a good husband. He had proved his friendship true, even if he no longer loved her.
    "I wish I could say the same. But it seems marriage is my fate if I cannot think of an escape." She watched his face, and felt hope bloom inside her. There was an answer. Would he think of it? And did she care whether he thought of it as a friend, or as a man who loved her still?
    Her heart fell when he merely answered, "You must trust me. I will find a way to get you out of this engagement. I just need a little time to think."
    Of course, he hadn't thought of the obvious answer. She was a fool to hope that he still cared for her, still loved her enough to consider marrying her. Horrified, she found herself blurting the thought on her mind. "This is Scotland. We could be married in an hour's time."
    She clapped her hands over her mouth, appalled at what she had just said.
    Valentine appeared equally shocked. But then he