He rotated the signet ring, once and then twice, and then he looked at me.

“You look tired, Clara.”

I kept my head slightly bowed and I said the words I had rehearsed in the dark.

I did some thinking last night.

I was wrong to question the carriage house bills.

I let my nerves get the better of me.

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders easing under his cashmere sweater, and a faint smile touched his lips though his eyes stayed cool.

“I only lose my temper because I care so much about your future,” he said, the same sentence he always reached for, and he stood and leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.