“Trust you?!” he demanded disbelievingly, baffled that she could even say such things. “Do you not see how Cecily looks at me—or doesn’t, as may be more apt—in the year that has passed since she learned of the truth? Can you not fathom my shame at this unholy condition? The shame it would bring to you if it had become known?”

As he spoke, he moved to put on robes, feeling already far too vulnerable to be comfortable remaining naked overlong.

“Trust had nothing to do with it! Why should I ruin your life as I have ruined my own, my children’s lives, if I did not need to?!”

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