Robert glanced around. Spotting Lisa sitting up in bed, he smiled and crossed the room toward her. Settling on the side of the bed, he brushed the hair back from her face and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. I am not the problem,” she informed him grimly. “You are.”

“I am?” he asked with amusement, thinking she looked adorable with the militant expression that presently graced her face.

“Yes, Robert, you are,” she said firmly. “Whether you will admit it or not, you love me. I was made for you. And while you are apparently too stubborn and stupid to see that, I can see it, and I am—”

“I love you,” he interrupted quietly, and Lisa paused and blinked in surprise.

“You do?” she asked uncertainly and the question brought an amused quirk to his lips.

“Lisa, in the last few days I’ve completely given up my own life to protect yours. I’ve twisted my ankle and been stabbed trying to protect you, not to mention knocked out by you in my efforts. If that’s not love, I don’t know what the hell it is.”

“Oh,” Lisa breathed, eyes wide, and then she frowned. “But what about trust, Robert? Love includes trust and—”

“I trust you,” Robert said solemnly, which brought a dubious expression to her face. Sighing, he took her hands in his and squeezed them briefly before saying, “I was trying to tell you this earlier today before Smithe’s arrival interrupted us. Richard and I had a talk last night. He made me realize that my father was nothing more than a bitter woman hater. That he distrusted and suspected, accused and even punished my mother unjustly for adulterous behavior for years before she even looked at another man. In effect, I think he drove her into the comforting arms of another man with his cruel and hateful behavior.

“But she only started up with one man, Gower, and she only did that after her marriage to my father was as good as dead. If it weren’t for the scandal I think she would have divorced my father. As it was, they were living apart, leading separate lives, when she took up with Gower. It made me wonder if the same thing didn’t happen with my grandfather and his father before him,” he admitted solemnly and then grimaced.

“Once I looked at the situation, I realized that the Langley men aren’t so much cursed with adulterous wives as cursed with a sour and suspicious disposition that may have driven their women from them.” He let that sink in for a moment and then added, “And were it not for my friendship with you and your sisters I may very well have grown up just as suspicious and hateful toward women.”