The lady would run, again, and no good would come of it.
Truly, whimsy and impulse were poor masters. She chose on the basis of impulse alone, and it could only lead her into peril. The sooner she arrived at Caerlaverock and wed her betrothed, the better.
The sooner she had a babe in her belly, the better, though that was not Amaury’s responsibility. He had to proceed with caution and ensure she never guessed the depth of his admiration for her. Oh, he would cherish such a lady as his wife, but what folly any match between them would be! Passion would not keep them fed or warm, though he feared the lady would not agree with his assessment.
She must never guess of his regard.
Amaury turned away, hiding his thoughts. Elizabeth was as passionate and resolute as his cousin had been—and he
