Emily shook her head, just as a footman burst in through the open door. “My lady, I am so sorry. She came in before we could stop her.”

“It is all right,” Lady Rothburne said, dismissing the footman. “I know Miss Barrow.”

Emily held back her sigh of relief. “Please forgive me, Lady Rothburne, but I am in a bit of a hurry. Which room is he in, please?”

Lady Rothburne tilted her head to one side, a curious look upon her face. “My husband doesn’t know you are here, does he?”

Emily didn’t want to admit the truth, so she said, “I must see the earl. I would not be here if it were not urgent.”

“He is down the hall, second door on your left.” Lady Rothburne eyed Emily’s sodden clothing. “Would you care to change your dress? I believe my daughter might have a spare gown or two. Hannah is away at school, and she would not mind.”

“Thank you. But I won’t be long.” Emily nodded farewell to Lady Rothburne and peered out the door. No one was about, so she tore across the hallway. Throwing open the door, she closed it behind her. Stephen was in the midst of disrobing, his shirt fully unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders.

Upon the back of his neck was a black tattoo, similar to her brother’s. Now when had he gotten that? He hadn’t had it on their wedding night.

“What are you doing here?” Stephen pulled the shirt back on, a frown upon his face. “I thought you were going to stay at Falkirk.”

At the sight of his bare chest, she backed away. Where was his valet? Being alone with a half-dressed man was not at all wise.

He moved toward her, and Emily averted her eyes, trying not to look at his chest. Deep ridges of muscle were marred by a jagged scar several inches long. The skin had healed, but the redness remained from the knife wound.

“I changed my mind.” She offered no explanation, hoping he wouldn’t inquire further. He likely wouldn’t believe her, even if she told him the truth.

“You’re soaking wet. Come over by the fire and dry off.” He studied her hair and Emily realized that most of the pins had come out. It lay in tangled masses, half-pinned up beneath her bonnet, half-hanging about her shoulders. She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, though it did nothing for her appearance.

“I don’t have time. The children are outside,” she said. “I would have brought them with me, except your father tossed me into the streets.”

Stephen’s face tightened with anger. “Did he?” It infuriated him that his wife had come to London, and his father had treated her so poorly. “I am glad you didn’t let that stop you.”