“That long talk I had with Spartacus Lykens—who is on his way back to Ireland with funds in his pocket as we speak—included a few more details regarding Harry’s origins that I meant to pass along to you, except that you drifted away on the arms of Morpheus before I got around to it. Harry is of the Merchant family of Bristol, a fine lineage and well-heeled. Cousins in banking, uncles in shipping. I sent an express to the sister, who yet resides in the family’s Bristol home. I suspect Harry owns that property, does he but know it.”

Oh, the irony. “Why do this? Why give his family a chance to reclaim him?”

Tremont’s smile faded. “I suspect many a boy runs away from home just to make sure he’ll be missed at supper. He ends up hungry and humiliated, whether or not his family misses him. I can’t begin to know what passes for motivation in your husband’s head, but he’s more muddled than even he knows, and sisters have a way of sorting a fellow out.”

“I do not care whether Harry is ever sorted out. If he grasps what’s good for him, he will stay far, far away from me and Tommie.”

“Depend upon it. Contrary to his prevarications with you, he’s off to Rome, according to MacKay. Harry apparently considered France, but chose Rome as the cheaper and sunnier alternative, also one where he’s less likely to encounter familiar faces. The French should consider that they’ve had a narrow escape.”

“He doesn’t speak the language,” Matilda said. “As facile as Harry is as a mimic, he could never quite get the knack of French, while I had French drummed into me, along with Proverbs and Fordyce’s Sermons.”

Words, coherent words, were coming out of her mouth, but Matilda’s heart ached with the knowledge that when Tremont walked out the door, her path and his would never cross again.

“You won’t need much French in Philadelphia,” Tremont said, “though Proverbs might come in handy.” He shifted his gaze to the river. “Matilda, I don’t want to leave you, but if I stay another five minutes, I will succumb to strong hysterics.”

“As will I.” She would whether he remained or departed. “My stores of fortitude are ebbing by the moment, so let’s say farewell and wish each other the best, shall we?”

Tremont held open his arms, and Matilda lacked the ability to resist.

“I will miss you for the rest of my life,” she said, burrowing close. “If I were a different woman, if you were a different man, we’d not need to part.”