“That’s not true. I have had other lovers. And yes, I’ve had to use that before. It wouldn’t do to have a child when unwed.”

He was quiet, his brow creasing and relaxing, then creasing again. “While I can’t argue with your logic, I wonder how you might have felt about it.”

“I felt it was the right thing to do. I am aware of my courses, and they are typically reliable. It’s possible a child may not even have come, but I wanted to make sure. Can you imagine how that would have been for the child, a bastard?”

“You’re very careful.”

“I try to be. It is challenging to be a woman.”

“Yes. But you make it look magnificent.” He scooted closer to her and kissed her. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“Including about the lovers?”

He closed one eye and smiled. “I can’t say I’m not envious of the time any man has spent with you, but you’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being understanding.” He was unlike any man she’d ever known. Most wouldn’t have even asked about conception. Of her protectors, only Lucien had sought to have the conversation. Evie had just always taken it upon herself to ensure she was guarded. To be with a man who shared her burden meant more than he could know. “For supporting me.” She kissed him back, wriggling against him. “And for not being angry with me about Ash.”

“I could never. We are all human. We do our very best every day. Don’t we?”

That was all Evie had done. She’d done her best to survive. Until she’d been allowed to do more than that. Now, she did her best to make the most of every day, to feel joy and contentment.

“Now we can sleep,” she said, closing her eyes, suddenly exhausted.

Gregory made her feel both joy and contentment. And that scared her more than anything.

Chapter 13

Gregory couldn’t help feeling a tinge of awe as he stepped into the Palace of Westminster. He was shown to a chamber that resembled a sitting room with two seating areas. One was around a table, while the other was a pair of settees and four chairs assembled in a conversational style.

Not knowing where to sit as he waited for Lord Hargrove, Gregory lingered between the two areas. Instead of contemplating the interview ahead, he couldn’t help thinking of last night, the second he’d spent in Evie’s bed. Having stolen into her garden through the back alley, he’d departed the same way just before dawn this morning. This time, however, he’d left Ash at home.