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She never wanted a child. But since she knew she could never have Ford, a part of her yearned to have a part of him with her forever…

“Grace?”

Grace turned toward Hades sharply. “Yes.”

“We have to leave.” He waved a hand toward his carriage.

Grace nodded and stepped toward him. “Do you like it?” she asked, her mind still in a fog of confusion.

Hades frowned. “Do you mean sailing?”

Grace shook her head. “Married life.”

Hades’ frown deepened. “Do not tell me you are thinking about marrying Gunning. I love his sister, but the man is arrogant and dismissive. If you marry him, your brothel will become his and he will close it with a snap of his fingers.”

Grace flinched at the confirmation of her own thoughts. “I am not thinking of marrying him. I know he can never love me…”

Hades turned toward her fully, a frown marring his face. “Do you love him?”

She licked her dry lips. “It doesn’t matter. You said it yourself, he—”

“Do you?”

Grace pursed her lips.

Hades cursed under his breath. “I hope you know he doesn’t deserve you.”

Grace let out a bitter laugh. “Who does deserve me, then?”

Hades let out a deep breath. “Someone who loves you as much, if not more, than you love him.”

And that was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? Ford didn’t love her even a little.

* * *

A rounded, heavy-set man entered the lavishly decorated room, his breath coming in short gasps from the exertion of climbing the stairs. He closed the door and stood there awhile, catching his breath, the sconces by the door illuminating his ruddy face.

He finally straightened and wiped his palms on his coat before turning toward his desk and… yelped in surprise.

A high-pitched sound incongruous with his stature left his lips when he noticed Ford sitting in the shadows, occupying the chair that rightly belonged to him.

“Mr. Lockley,” Ford said evenly.

“What the hell are you doing here? Guards! Guards!” Lockley’s voice rose in panic, his eyes darting towards the door as if expecting reinforcements to burst in at any moment.

Ford raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Shush, for God’s sake, I am not here for any nefarious reasons!”

Lockley’s eyes narrowed. “Is that why you broke into my office and are hiding in the shadows?”

Ford shrugged. Perhaps he had not used the most judicious way to approach the magistrate of the court. “Did I have another choice? I have a price on my head.”

“And for a good reason,” Lockley spat, his face reddening with anger. “How dare you come into this office after what you’ve done? I will have you arrested—”

“On what grounds?” Ford interrupted, a smirk lifting at the corners of his mouth. “Embarrassing your son?”

“Shielding a fugitive!” The man yelled again, his pitch rising with every syllable.

Ford leaned forward, his voice lowering. “Come now, you know I was right. Grace Holland wasn’t the murderer, and I knew it. I was just doing my job.”