“Then I’ll do you a left-handed braid.” He got it just so, not too tight, not too loose, and positioned to lie over her left shoulder. When he finished, he rested his hands again on her shoulders.

“Thank you.” Alice could not hold back this yawn. “You have a nice touch with a brush, Ethan.”

He smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “So nice, I’ve put you to sleep.”

Hadn’t that been his aim? “I do feel more ready for rest now. Thank you.”

He held her chair, and as she got to her feet, Alice felt a little frustration that he wouldn’t use their proximity to kiss her further.

“Good night.” She met his gaze, finding his expression half-amused, half-veiled.

“I wasn’t going to do this,” he muttered. He drew her closer and dipped his head. When he settled his lips over hers, Alice snuggled in against him, relieved to be in his embrace. It was an easy, undemanding, friendly kiss, with Ethan’s mouth moving slowly over hers, his tongue lazy.

“Good night, Alice,” Ethan said, drawing back only the half inch necessary to permit speech.

She rose on her toes and fused her mouth to his, causing Ethan’s lips to quirk up when she went foraging with her tongue.

He tolerated her quest for a moment, then drew back and tucked her face against his chest. “You need your sleep, and if you toy with me, I won’t answer for the consequences.”

His words did not initially sink in, because Alice was making an investigation of the taste of his neck and throat, but the stillness in his body—and rising hardness pressing against her belly—did.

“You are serious.”

“I desire you mightily, Alice Portman.”

“Alex,” she corrected him. “My real name is Alexandra, but that isn’t a governess name.”

“Alexandra.” His hand smoothed over the back of her head. “You honor me with such a confidence. It’s important.”

“It’s just a name.” She rested her forehead against his chest.

“It’s just your name,” Ethan corrected gently. “Just your hair, just your trust. Yours, Alexandra.” His arms around her were gentle yet secure, and she felt the sting of tears. To hear her name, her real name, was such a gift, particularly spoken with the near reverence he gave it.

“I’ll leave you now,” Ethan said, but he held her a moment longer. “Nick and I will ride out with George in the morning. You sleep in. The day will be trying.”

She nodded, not wanting him to go, but slipping her arms from his waist when he kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips.

“Good night, Ethan.” She smiled as he turned at the door to blow her a kiss.

“Good night, Alex.” He smiled back, and then he was gone.

But not before Alice caught a glimpse of Nick leaning against the wall outside the boys’ room, arms crossed over his chest, expression thunderous.

“Whatever went on in Alice’s room,” Nick rumbled ominously, “it had better have been with the lady’s consent.”

“And a pleasant good evening to you too. Are you spying on me, Nicholas?”

“Maybe.” Nick pushed away from the wall with his back. “I came up to say good night to the boys, as their papa was supposedly doing.”

“I said good night to them and to their governess.”

Nick looked disgruntled, like a man who was spoiling for a fight, only to realize there was nothing to fight over. “She deserves more than a quick tumble, and you’d best not be trifling with her.”

“I agree.” Ethan took Nick by the arm and turned him down the hallway. “This is not the place to air your concerns. Did you leave me any of Heathgate’s whiskey?”

“We did. George is a lightweight, for all he’s newly down from school.”

“A mere child. So explain to me, worldly earl that you are, how it is Alice deserves more than a quick tumble and not trifling with.”

“The rules are simple, and because I played by them, and played hard for years, I will recite them for you: You may dally wherever an experienced woman consents, provided her husband has his heir and spare. If you get a single woman pregnant, you must insist on marriage. Never bother virgins, for they require inordinate care and get romantic notions. Widows are a law unto themselves.”

Nick could have stitched his blighted rules into samplers, so sanctimonious was his tone.

“Alice wouldn’t marry me if I were given a damned title by the Regent,” Ethan said. “And for the record, Nicholas, I merely kissed her.” And brushed her hair, and cuddled in her lap like a lonely cat, and kissed her some more, and held her, and could not wait to do more of the same.

“So you’re taking your time. That’s good. It gives Alice time to come to her senses.”

“And send me packing?” Ethan asked as they reached the library.

“No.” Nick smiled a little. “She’ll have you proposing and be accepting your suit.”

“I can’t expect that. There are certain things that can befall a man in this life which permanently reduce his expectations, particularly with respect to matrimony. Alice seems to have a similarly jaundiced view of marriage,” Ethan replied, crossing to the decanter. “More for you?”

“Yes. I abused that whiskey earlier today. This evening, I offer it only my most sincere respect.”

Ethan poured two drinks, handed one to Nick, then eyed the French doors.

“It’s lovely out,” Nick said. “You can see the stars, unlike in Town, and the crickets are singing. Why don’t you think Alice would marry you?”

“She’s been badly spooked,” Ethan replied as they found some chairs on the terrace. “Very badly spooked, though I don’t know the details. Something to do with her sister and the scandal and so on. She has her own money and works only because it affords her a badly needed excuse to remain away from the family seat.”

“She told you all this? I’ve met some self-contained women in my time, Ethan. Alice takes first honors in that category. Reese Belmont lived with her for years and never knew she had siblings.”

“I am not Reese Belmont. In any case, I think Alice is a governess because she adores children but believes she won’t have any of her own.” And why it had become necessary to share that insight was a mystery as imponderable as the stars.

“Sad. The people who have children are not necessarily the people who deserve them.”

“So I’ve thought.” Ethan sipped his drink, trying to ignore the way Nick peered at him in the dim lighting.

“You’re thinking of your late wife and possibly your dear self.”

“Oh, possibly.” Ethan took another sip. “This really is a fine whiskey.”

“I’m not letting you change the subject this time, Ethan. If Alice were willing, would you marry her?”

“She isn’t willing,” Ethan reminded Nick, and himself. “But if she were—the boys love her already, I can barely keep my hands to myself… I wouldn’t deserve a lady like her.” And there was the irrefutable, bedrock truth. He would never deserve a woman like her.

“She’s a governess,” Nick scoffed. “Maybe by choice, but she’s a governess, Ethan. What’s not to deserve?”

“She’s a lady, Nicholas. In every sense of the word, she’s a lady, and in every sense of the word, I am a bastard. Is there any more of that whiskey?”

He handed Ethan the rest of his drink. “I miss my Leah.”

“A good woman is always worth missing.” Ethan took a sip and passed the drink back to Nick. “A good woman misses you too.”

“I miss her more,” Nick grumbled, taking his sip and returning the drink.

“Of course you do.” Ethan accepted the glass. “But if you take your lonely little self up to bed, you might see her in your dreams, and when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll be that much closer to holding her in your loving arms.”

“You are sending me to bed before I embarrass myself with maudlin behavior.” Nick rose, accepting the last swallow of the whiskey.