Moira’s green gaze met his as she swiped at a curl across her cheek. “How did you discover that silly wedding wasn’t a mockery? I didn’t think you’d give it a second thought.”

“When you disappeared the next morning, I began to investigate everything you’d said and done. That night kept coming back to me. Something about it . . . it seemed wrong somehow.” How Moira must have laughed at his naïveté. “To my surprise, I found the marriage license. You went to a lot of trouble to make our false marriage seem valid.”

Her lashes dropped to shadow her expression. “I knew you would be angry, but—”

He waited, but when she didn’t offer more he said sharply, “But what?”

She looked away and waved a hand as if banishing an annoying insect. “It was fun while it lasted.”

He scowled. “Which part? The bedding? Or the sham of a relationship that never was? Frankly, neither was all that memorable to me. If I didn’t feel that you’d stolen something from me, I would never think of either.”

Color stained her cheeks and her lips folded into a straight line. “There was nothing wrong with our performances in bed. I still cherish those memories.”

So that hurts, does it? Good. He couldn’t help being pleased. “When all was said and done, I found myself the most sorry for the vicar.”

At her surprised look, Robert added, “I found him not long after you disappeared. He told me how you’d contacted him and offered him a fortune to do this one thing. How he said no, but you were determined.”

“He said yes quick enough once we began talking money,” she said sharply.

“His little sister was ill. He needed it to pay for her care.”

A shadow crossed Moira’s face. “I didn’t know.”

“He admitted that. But that’s neither here nor there. You set everything in motion, including posting banns and filing the license, so that our marriage appeared to be legal.”

She began to speak, but he held up a hand. “I realize I could have it set aside, but only if I was willing to face public scrutiny. You knew I wouldn’t do it. Why, Moira? Why go to so much trouble?”

“Perhaps I just wished for a husband—someone to watch over me.”

“You ran off immediately after. I saw you two weeks later, when I caught up with you in Bath, but you escaped again. So no, you didn’t want someone to watch over you.”

She sent him a hard look. “I still can’t believe you turned me over to the authorities.”

“You were a spy.”

“Which was why you were assigned to woo me in the first place, wasn’t it?” Her cool, disdainful voice held another emotion, but he couldn’t quite identify it.

“In the beginning, that is why I began to pursue you. But after the second month, no.”

Her gaze slashed across the room. “Don’t tell me you ‘cared,’ for I won’t believe it. If you’d cared, you wouldn’t have had me arrested.”