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Vangie remained silent, snuggled against him. Trust again. His actions today had done much to restore her faith in him. She wanted to trust him, but did she dare?

A passing cloud covered the moon once more. He took a step away. With his forefinger, he gently tilted her chin, until her gaze met his. “What is it?”

“I don’t belong here—with them.” She angled her head in the direction of the boisterous revelers. “I adore visiting my kinshna, but their way of life isn’t mine. Not any longer.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes.

The revelation astonished her as much as Ian. She attempted a smile. “I find I prefer stability. I guess I’m more English than Roma after all.”

He had said he’d stay with her and the Roma. She’d eliminated that option. He only had two left. Ian didn’t say anything, just stood there solemn-faced peering at her, unblinking and unwavering in the intentness of his stare. He angled his head the merest bit and opened his mouth. He shut it again and sighed. He was trying to decide something.

Would he offer her his love—or her freedom.

Which would she choose?

Which would cause less heartbreak?

“Vangie, Sheffleton Cottage is truly yours. You can live there—”

She stiffened and covered her mouth, barely stifling the cry surging to her lips. She backed away from him, pain wrenching her heart. It was to be her freedom then. She should be overjoyed.

He didn’t want her.

“You misunderstand.” Ian rushed on, stumbling over his words. “I love you. Love you enough to let you choose.” He spread his hands in entreaty. “I want to give you a child—no—a dozen children. I long to see your belly swell with my seed. I beg you, give me a chance to show you the kind of man, the kind of husband, I can be.”

The sincerity of his words rang true, touching an answering peal in her heart. She remained stock still, silent and stunned. He wasn’t casting her off. He was giving her a choice.

She so wanted to believe him. To trust him. To forgive him. Didn’t he deserve another chance? Hadn’t he shown her his inherent decency only hours ago?

He stood before her, his head bowed, beaten and defeated. “I’ll let you go, if that’s what you truly desire. If you cannot forgive me.” He raised his head, begging her with his gaze.

Overcome, she shook her head. She didn’t want him to let her go. A life without him would be meaningless. Shudders quaked her, and she shoved a fist against her mouth to quiet the sobs she struggled to conceal. Bitter tears of regret cascaded down her cheeks.

Ian’s shoulders slumped. “So be it. I’ll keep my word.”

Vangie wept harder. “No,” she gasped between sobs.

Reaching for her, he wrapped her in his arms. “It’s all right, darling.” He kissed the crown of her head. “I only want you to be happy.” Ian ran a soothing hand up and down her spine. “Shh, sweeting. In the morning I’ll make the arrangements for your things to be sent to Sheffleton Cottage.”

“No, Ian, No!” She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she was drowning. “Don’t cast me off. I couldn’t bear it. I know you didn’t want to take me to wife, but please let me stay with you. I love you.”

“You love me? You forgive me?” he asked in stupefied awe, unable to hide the astonishment from his voice or face. “You want to stay with me?”

“Oh, yes. Please, yes.” She clutched at his neck and shoulders, raining kisses across his throat.

Ian enclosed her in a fierce embrace, bending his neck to meet her seeking lips. His hot assault deepened her chaste kisses. It was as if the past fortnighthad never been; the memory erased by a hidden hand.

Looping an arm beneath her knees, he swept her into his embrace. Vangie clung to him, pressing her face to his throat. She licked him, smiling when his throat muscles worked against her lips. He strode to the maple trees huddled beside the river. Passing between their massive trunks, he entered a sheltered nook. Lowering her to her feet, he tugged her shawl loose and laid it on the ground. Straightening, he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I love your hair.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes. She remained motionless as he tugged her blouse over her head and shoved her padma off her hips. She stepped from the many ruffles before kicking off her boots. Clad only in her light shift, she stood before him unashamed.

He gathered her hair, spreading the strands across her shoulders.

Her gaze never left Ian’s as he discarded his clothing until only his pantaloons remained. He untied the ribbons of her chemise, and his passionate gaze marked its path as the garment slipped from her shoulders until it puddled at her feet.

He grinned at the sheathed dagger strapped to her thigh. “I see you found your knife.” Kneeling, he used his mouth to untie the ribbon holding the blade in place.