Loosening his hold on her arms, he dropped his hands to his sides. He couldn’t give in to his desires. He had to remain strong—if not for himself, then for her. She’d had so little in her life, and now that she was here in Victoria, she deserved to finally have the future she wanted. That was his purpose in this meeting, to discover what it was she wanted for herself. Wasn’t it?

The dimness of the room hid her face. He could make out only her outline. “Lord Colville—”

“Joseph.”

She didn’t respond.

“Always Joseph and never anything else.” He wasn’t sure why it should matter how she addressed him since he was leaving in three days, except that he wanted her to know he didn’t care one whit about their differences, that he’d been wrong to bring it up at all at their last parting. “Please,” he whispered, wanting to reach out and caress her cheek until his name became a plea upon her lips.

“Joseph,” she finally breathed.

He clutched his hands into fists to keep from touching her. He longed for her to say his name again, but he suspected she’d always hesitate in doing away with formalities until he convinced her their differences didn’t matter. He had to believe it first and with his whole heart. Did he?

“I shouldn’t be here with you,” she said. “If Mr. Scott discovers I’m talking to you, he’ll be cross, that he will.”

Joseph appreciated the reverend for taking his duty as chaperone seriously and for doing his best to protect the women during the voyage. He could even respect the fact that Mr. Scott was still trying to protect them. After all, the eligible men of Victoria were hasty, overeager, and much too forward. But surely Mr. Scott had learned by now that he had nothing to fear from Joseph.

“Mr. Scott cannot protest my speaking with you for a moment.”

She glanced over her shoulder so that the faint light coming from the doorway fell upon her, showing the strain in her muscles and her pinched brow. “He’ll mind right well.”

“Mercy . . .” He hesitated, unsure how to bring up the topic of her appointments with the men.

She swung her attention back to him, the shadows of the room once again concealing her features so he couldn’t read her face.

“Tell me I’ve heard wrong. Tell me you’re not choosing a husband for yourself by this eve.”

Her silence sent a shiver of dread down his spine.

“Please tell me it isn’t so,” he insisted softly.

“You haven’t heard wrong,” she admitted just as softly.