"If you keep talking like that," she said, trying to sound as if she were scolding him, but there was a smile on her features, "you're going to make me cry."

It was foolish. All of this was foolish. Why should she think he was any different than the other men she'd known? Full of honeyed words so long as he wanted something, but ready to wander off when he grew bored or saw something else he wanted. Common charm had proven inconsistent. Gentlemen had proven disinterested or violent. Yet, she still had a smile for him. Still thought she could trust him.

"I'm sorry. I don't seem able to control what I say. I-- I hope you will pardon me if I overstep. I fear the harm I could do should I offend, and I couldn't bear to lose you to my own foolishness."