“She knows who I was in London.” A scared little mouse with her nose in a book. A young lady unwilling to defy her parents, even if obedience to them meant she must give up her dreams, her desires, her very life.

Julia was ashamed to recall it.

It wasn’t as if her parents had beat her or locked her in her room without any food or water. She’d had no good reason not to stand up to them. None save her own anxiousness and lack of self-worth.

“You’re not that person anymore,” Jasper said.

“I don’t feel as though I am,” she said. “Perhaps it’s simply that things are easier in the country?”

“Easier? Here?” A glint of wry humor flashed in his eyes. “You can suggest that after the day you’ve had?”

Julia suppressed a grimace. At dinner, she and the children had told Jasper about their tumultuous visit to Hardholme. “It’s easy to be brave on someone else’s behalf.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said. “It’s easier to do nothing. To turn a blind eye. Many people do, even the biggest and strongest of us.”

“I could hardly do so when someone was mistreating the children. They were relying on me to protect them.”

“You did. And admirably so.”

“I’d rather I hadn’t made such a scene. I’d promised Daisy a lovely day shopping.” Her gaze drifted guiltily to the stack of boxes teetering on the bench at the end of the bed. She still hadn’t unpacked them. “I fear I may have bought too much trying to make up for it.”

“I meant to ask . . . Did you put it on my account?”

She bit her lip. They’d had no opportunity to discuss finances earlier, nor to talk about Jasper’s visit to the solicitor. At their first moment of privacy, they’d been in each other’s arms, all thoughts of money forgotten.

But not now.

Now, the reality of their situation all came crashing back.

“Some of it,” she said. It was always more respectable to pay with credit than cash. “The rest I bought with money from my reticule.”

His brows lifted in question.

“I’m accustomed to keeping a large quantity tucked away for books and hair ribbons and things,” she explained.

“Not so large now, I’d wager.”

“No, indeed. It’s diminishing by the day.” She hesitated to ask, “Did Mr. Piggott tell you when we might expect the rest of my funds?”

“He’s setting things in motion.”

“How?”

“Sending a telegraph to the bank to start, with a formal letter to follow. I gave him a copy of our marriage lines, and I instructed him to contact Mr. Finchley if there should be any difficulties.”

She nodded, praying there wouldn’t be any difficulties to speak of. “Should I do anything?”

“Not a thing.” He bent his head to nuzzle her ear. “Except . . .”

A delicate shiver of pleasure traced down her spine. “What?”

He kissed her neck. “I wonder if you’d be willing to read my manuscript?”