He paled and whispered, “You're just saying that.”

“I mean what I say, Robert. I don't want to marry you.”

“You're angry,” he reasoned. “You're angry, and you want to hurt me, and you have every right to feel that way.”

“I'm not angry.” She paused. “Well, yes, I am, but that's not why I'm refusing you.”

He crossed his arms. “Why, then? Why won't you even listen to me?”

“Because I'm happy now! Is that so difficult for you to understand? I like my position and I love my independence. For the first time in seven years I am perfectly content, and I don't want to upset the balance.”

“You're happy here?” He waved his hand at the storefront. “Here, as a shopgirl?”

“Yes,” she said icily, “I am. I realize that this might be a bit much for your refined tastes to understand—”

“Don't be sarcastic, Torie.”

“Then I suppose I cannot say anything.” She clamped her mouth shut.

Robert began to pull her gently toward his waiting carriage. “I'm sure you'll be more comfortable if we can discuss this privately.”

“No, you mean you'll be more comfortable.”

“I mean we both will,” he bit out, his temper showing signs of fraying.

She started to struggle against him, dimly aware that she was causing a scene but beyond caring about it. “If you think I'm going to get into a carriage with you…”

“Victoria, I give you my word that you will not come to harm.”

“That depends on one's definition of ‘harm,’ don't you think?”

He abruptly let go of her and made a great show of holding his hands in the air in an unthreatening manner. “I give you my vow that I will not lay a hand upon your person.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And why should I believe you?”

“Because,” he growled, clearly losing patience with her, “I have never broken a promise to you.”

She let out a snort, and not a particularly ladylike one at that. “Oh, please.”

A muscle began to work in his throat. Honor had always been of paramount importance to Robert, and Victoria knew that she had just jabbed him right where it hurt.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and intense. “I have never broken a direct promise to you or anyone. I might not have always treated you with the”—he swallowed convulsively—“respect you deserve, but I have never broken a vow.”

Victoria exhaled, knowing that he spoke the truth. “You will deliver me home?”

He nodded curtly. “Where do you live?”

She gave him her address, which he repeated to MacDougal.

He reached for her, but Victoria pulled her arm away and instead circled around him and hoisted herself into the conveyance.

Robert exhaled raggedly, resisting the urge to plant his hands on her bottom and forcibly shove her into the carriage. Damn, but she knew how to try his patience. He took another deep breath—he rather thought he would need several of them before today's journey was through—and climbed into the carriage beside her.

He took great pains to avoid touching her as he entered, but her scent was everywhere. She always managed to smell like springtime, and Robert was struck by an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and desire. He took yet another deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. Somehow he had been granted another chance at love, and he was determined not to muck things up this time.

“You wished to say?” she asked primly.

He closed his eyes for a moment. She certainly had no plans to make this easy on him. “All I wished to say is that I'm sorry.”

Her eyes flew to his face in surprise. “You're sorry?” she echoed.

“For believing the worst of you. I let my father talk me into things I knew were not true.”

She remained silent, forcing him to continue with his painful speech. “I knew you so well, Torie,” he whispered. “I knew you like I knew myself. But when you didn't arrive at our assignation…”

“You thought I was an adventuress,” she said, her voice flat.

He glanced out the window for a moment before returning his eyes to her pale, drawn face. “I didn't know what else to think,” he said lamely.

“You might have remained in the district long enough to ask me what had happened,” she said. “There was no need to jump to such unpleasant conclusions.”

“I went to your window.”

She gasped. “You did? I-I never saw you.”

When Robert spoke, his voice was shaky. “Your back was to the window. You were lying in bed. You looked quite peaceful, as if you hadn't a care in the world.”

“I was crying,” she said in a hollow voice.

“I couldn't have known that.”

A hundred emotions played across her face, and for a moment Robert was sure that she was going to lean forward and place her hand on his, but in the end she merely crossed her arms and said, “You behaved badly.”

Robert forgot all his vows to control his temper. “And you didn't?” he returned.

She stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”

“We are both guilty of mistrust, Victoria. You cannot lay all the blame at my door.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your sister told me what you thought of me. That I'd never intended anything more than seduction. That I had never been serious in my courtship of you.” He leaned forward and stopped himself a split second before grabbing her hands with his. “Look into your heart, Victoria. You know I loved you. You know I love you still.”