“Lord Singleton,” she said graciously. “How terribly kind of you to call. I believe you’ve met my oldest daughter, Mary.”

“A pleasure to see you again,” the marquess intoned, bowing over Mary’s hand. He turned to Sophie and gazed at her with the bright blue eyes he was rather famous for. “Miss Kendall,” he said smoothly. “I’ve brought something for you.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small ivory carving. “I know how much you like roses,” he said, placing it into her palm. The perfectly formed flower felt cold and hard and lifeless against her skin.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” she said diplomatically.

“How thoughtful of Lord Singleton.” Mama clasped her hands beneath her chin.

“Yes,” Sophie said. “Very kind.” But she couldn’t help comparing the ivory carving to the gifts Reese had given her. She missed her wilted crown of asphodels—and him.

She’d said goodbye to Reese only a few hours ago, but the marquess’s visit had all but erased the warm, hopeful glow in her chest.

Her family’s situation grew more desperate by the day.

Lord Singleton was throwing them a lifeline.

But he wasn’t going to wait forever.

Chapter 17

On his third straight day of working in the garden that week, Reese wiped the sweat from his forehead, tossed his scrub brush into the bucket, and stepped back to survey the results. The entire surface of the pavilion gleamed bright white in the sunlight. He’d cleaned every inch of the steps, floor, pillars, and roof, just as Sophie had suggested.

During the hours he’d labored, he’d had plenty of time to think—mostly about her.

And he’d realized two things.

First, their relationship had reached a critical point—the precarious, pivotal moment when the scale could easily tip toward success or failure. He’d experienced the same moment in the midst of battle. Every minute felt like an hour, and every move could end in victory or defeat. In a fight that had lasted for days, the outcome hinged on one heartbeat in time.

Not that he and Sophie were enemies—far from it. But their relationship couldn’t continue on as it was, couldn’t stand still. They had a choice to make: charge ahead together or retreat to their separate lives.

The second thing that Reese realized was that if he wanted to keep Sophie—and God knew he did—he needed to make a strategic move. Not pretty flowers or colorful lanterns or hot baths.

Sophie may have liked those things, but now she was demanding more. She wanted him to read the letters he’d been hiding away. She wanted him to face his ugly, shameful past. Which meant he was going to have to give her the one thing he’d hoped to keep buried forever—the truth.

It was risky as hell, and it was going to hurt like the devil.