She would return to the house with him, she would shut herself up in that house with him, if that was what his condition required.

“I wanted to enjoy the plum blossoms with you before they fade.”

Oh, this man. This dear, wonderful, man. “Will you kiss me again? I’ve a notion to more than kiss you. I came over here to tell you that Quinn has heard from the College of Arms. King George has kindly signed some letter or modification or parliamentary whatever and the honors of your station have been restored to you. George is quite the Tory these days, and he expressed sympathy for the offspring of so difficult and devious a man as your papa.”

She had taken Rothhaven’s hand in the midst of that babbling. His calm was contagious, a balm to a troubled soul.

“Do I owe Walden more than my thanks for this bit of political sorcery?”

What did he—? Oh. “Quinn did not raise the topic of money. You fellows can sort that out if necessary. I suspect money did not change hands, it being only just that you assume the title that never should have been denied you. Quinn has no patience for bribes.”

They reached the orchard, though rather than pass through the gate, Rothhaven stood at the top of the hill, gazing upon his family seat.

Constance slipped an arm around his waist. “You are considering how to explain what you said earlier, about having set me aside once before. That was at the hospital, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. You were too young; I was too ill for more than friendship.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “You were my friend, though. You sought nothing from me, and after what I’d been through with that bounder…I did not believe a male to whom I was attracted could be a friend.”

He continued to gaze at the house nestled on the undulating green fields below, and the silence took on a peculiar vacant quality. Rothhaven’s gaze was vacant as well, as if his focus had gone not merely inward, but elsewhere entirely.

“Rothhaven?”

He appeared not to have heard her. Before alarm could take root, Constance realized this was a staring spell. He’d had them when she’d known him before, and they always passed. A subtle shift in his posture a few moments later suggested the interlude was over.

“As I was saying,” she began, “I did not believe a male to whom I was attracted could be a friend.”

“Your trust had been violated too.” He kissed her brow. “I just went away, didn’t I?”

“You fell silent. The lapse was momentary, not half a minute. We were discussing our earlier association, at the asylum.”

He enfolded her in an embrace that invited her to hide her face in the crook of his neck.