He’d done nothing wrong. He was only bringing a criminal to justice, making the world a better place, earning another bounty.

But it turned out being right didn’t ease the heavy blanket of guilt that had engulfed him. So when the Admiralty’s questions had ended, he’d petitioned for leave and had ridden for his aunt’s as quickly as possible.

He hadn’t seen his family in far too long, as evidenced by George’s terrible decision to befriend Mercia, and they’d give him some comfort.

Mother would be as quiet as she’d always been since Father’s death. His sister would probably ask too many questions that he’d have to evade. And Aunt Tilda would smile and occupy him with descriptions of all the single ladies she just happened to know. So, the visit wouldn’t be without its own difficulties.

But at least it was far away from The Morrigan and Vice’s trial, which would be the talk of Portsmouth.

Nodding, he urged his borrowed sabrecat back into the sun and sped to the sand-coloured house atop the hill.

Isabel’s blond head appeared at a window as he turned onto the sweeping drive, her eyes wide before she disappeared inside.

Despite himself, he smiled. She’d always been alert and … yes, her warmth would be welcome, even if he couldn’t confide in her all his terrible truths.

By the time he started up the steps to the front door, she was throwing it open with a laugh. “Captain Knighton Villiers, you didn’t need to sneak up on us—you’re not hunting pirates now.” Blue eyes bright, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

“Sorry,” he muttered with a wince.

“Still can’t take a joke, then?” She chuckled and flung her arms around his waist.

His body jolted. This was the first time anyone had touched him since …

“I’ve missed you, big brother.” Smiling, she leant her head on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

His chest filled, bright as the day outside. She meant it.

“Oh, Isabel.” He sighed out a long breath, tension inching away as he wrapped his arms around her and patted her shoulder.

With a shout from Is, Mother and Aunt Tilda emerged from the far end of the house, shortly followed by the butler with a tray of tea and cakes that he deposited in the drawing room.

As Mother poured tea, Isabel and Aunt Tilda bubbled with all the news. So-and-so had received an offer from an earl. Is had a new pianoforte. She and Mother planned to go to Lunden and take a townhouse for her first season.

Knigh raised his eyebrow at that and at the cakes, which were flavoured with vanilla and saffron. The vanilla tickled his nose, far too close to her scent, and he declined Isabel’s offer of one.