Julia’s heart clenched. It was the same thing she’d told him at Lady Clifford’s musicale. It seemed a lifetime ago. And yet he’d remembered.

Of course he had. He loved her. She knew that beyond all doubt.

It didn’t change the fact that he’d lied to her.

Pushing open the door, she entered the library. Jasper stood at the bookcase in his shirtsleeves, his hair disheveled, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it. Daisy was seated nearby, her pinafore smudged and her plaited hair frayed in an ebony halo around her face.

“Julia!” She leapt from her chair. “You’re back!”

Jasper turned to the door. A faint expression of relief flickered in his eyes, then was gone.

Julia vividly recalled how he’d kissed her so desperately on the moor. He hadn’t wanted to leave her there, but he had in the end—obviously against his own better judgment. He must have been dreadfully worried.

“Good evening,” she said. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting. Daisy was just leaving to wash for dinner.”

Daisy hurried to Julia’s side, grabbing her sleeve in entreaty. “Will you arrange my hair?”

“I will.” Julia smoothed a hand over Daisy’s perpetually frazzled head. “Go ahead and wash. I’ll be up directly.” She watched the little girl depart, shutting the door behind her. Only then did she turn her attention back to Jasper.

He was regarding her with a frown. He seemed reluctant to speak.

Julia felt rather at a loss for words herself.

“You look as though you’re feeling a little better,” he offered at last.

“I am,” she said. “I’ve had time to come to a decision.”

A muscle worked in his jaw, belying the calmness of his tone. “Anything you’d care to share with me?”

Julia replied carefully, conscious of the step she was taking. “Tomorrow, when Anne and her mother return to London, I intend to go with them.”

Jasper’s face turned ashen.

“I’m not leaving you,” she said. “Though I’d be justified in doing so.”

He held her gaze, his gray eyes gleaming with a strange light.

She had the impression that his self-control was poised on a knife’s edge. She moistened her lips. “The fact is, I’ve been too happy here to give any of it up. Happy with the children and the house, and . . . and with you.” Heat rose in her cheeks. “I won’t pretend I haven’t been.”

“Then why—”

“Several reasons.” She folded her arms, wandering closer to him as she formulated her thoughts. “I want to speak with Mr. Finchley for myself.” Given Jasper’s dishonesty, it would be foolish to rely on his assurances about the legality of their marriage. “And I must see my parents.”

He shook his head. “You can’t—”

“After everything you’ve admitted to, I have even more reason to fight for my fortune. But I see now why it can’t be a fight in law. Which is why I must go back to Belgrave Square.” Julia felt sick to contemplate it, but she’d made up her mind. “It’s the only way.”