A woman who could love him, of course. A woman who didn’t care he’d be an earl, who didn’t care he was too damned big to fit even in a ballroom, who didn’t care that the one thing he must never do was attempt to secure the Bellefonte succession.

“Leah danced the supper waltz with Reston again,” Darius said as he appropriated a drink from his brother’s decanter.

“And that’s good?” Trenton Lindsey, Viscount Amherst, watched his younger brother pour, thinking Darius’s eyes held a hint of something desperate.

“It’s good. She seems to like him, and he’s not Hellerington. The talk about Reston seems harmless enough—he enjoys the ladies of a certain reputation, but nothing more condemnatory than that. Have you seen Reston?” Darius tossed the drink back and punctuated the question with a glower.

“I doubt it. I do not circulate, to speak of, unless I’m escorting Leah. You know that.”

“He’s big,” Darius said. “Enormously tall with the muscles of a stevedore.”

A hazy impression tried to coalesce from the swampier regions of Trent’s memory. “Blond? Like Wotan or Thor in evening dress?”

Darius eyed the sideboard, his expression shifting to include a touch of consternation. “Berserker of the Bedroom is one of his nicknames. Biggest damned peer of the realm I’ve ever seen.”

Trent ran a finger over the sideboard and found a smudge of dust accumulated on his fingertip—a metaphor for his memory, perhaps. “I have met him, at Tatt’s. Reston seemed genial enough.”

“Always. He pulled me aside tonight and warned me very pleasantly that one of my female associates tried to threaten him when he’d parted from her.”

Female associates. A prudent older brother didn’t touch that with a garden rake in one hand and a bullwhip in the other. “What kind of lady would threaten that much man?”

“She is no lady at all,” Darius said on a sigh. “Why do you think I found her of any interest? Reston backed her down somehow, though.”

Interesting word choice. Rather than dwell on the implications, Trent took the empty glass from his brother’s hand and set it on the sideboard. “One wonders, Darius. There are naughty women, and then there are mean, wicked women. One should distinguish.”

Darius picked the glass right back up. “And their characteristics are always easily discernible across a ballroom?”

“Perhaps not.” Trent smiled in response. “But across a bedroom, one’s instincts are usually reliable.”

“Across a bedroom, it’s usually one’s instincts getting one into mischief.” Darius made short work of a second drink and set the empty glass down.

“Valid point.” Trent’s smile faded. “Darius, I can’t help but renew my expression of concern for you. Whatever is amiss, I wish you’d tell me.”

“Nothing is amiss.” Darius clinked the stopper into the decanter then did it again. “Nothing more than usual, anyway. My thanks for the brandy. You’re managing well enough?”

“Anytime, and yes, I’m managing,” Trent murmured, watching the way his brother’s eyes strayed to the darkness beyond the window. They were lying to each other, and Trent felt despair taking up residence beside the permanent sadness in his gut. “Come by in the morning, and we’ll look at Leah’s schedule. You need some decent rest, and I can be her escort.”

“It will be afternoon before I can get here,” Darius said, hand on the door latch. “Midafternoon.”

“Until then.” Trent watched his brother silently slip out into the darkened corridor, even as he wondered what could possibly be worth remaining out and about for what little remained of a cold, dark night.

“Did you know your father is selling off property?” Nick passed Leah the bag of bread crumbs and kept his gaze on the swan coming closer to their side of the pond. When Leah tossed a handful of crumbs onto the water, the swan retreated, while the ducks swarmed into the water, honking and flapping with no dignity whatsoever.

“I am not in his confidence regarding financial matters,” Leah said. “Regarding any matters, really. What is he selling?”

“The smaller of the two estates in Surrey.” Nick turned slightly to admire Leah’s profile. The breeze was such that her scent drifted over to him, redolent of lily of the valley, and he was struck by the simple beauty of her features on a lovely spring day.

“We used to have four estates, total.” Both her tone and her expression were… sad. He wanted, badly, to make that sadness go away. “Wilton would go to Trenton, of course, and then Ambrose Place to Darius. The two little properties were to be Mama’s gifts to Em and me, for our dowries. But when Darius escorted me to Italy, the earl sold Ambrose Place.”

“There’s a path around the pond,” Nick said. “Shall we stroll?”

“I’d like that.”

“The lady and I will stroll the path around the water,” Nick informed their liveried watchdog, who was at the ready up on the gravel walk. “There is no need for you to accompany us.”

Wilton’s minion nodded, though his expression was disgruntled.

“Come.” Nick winged his arm, then tucked his hand over Leah’s and led her away from the footman. “And walk slowly, if you please. I’ve been in want of your company.”

“I’ve danced with you twice so far this week.”

“That is your presence,” Nick said. “I miss your company.” He let a comfortable silence stretch while they put some distance between themselves and the footman. When they had wandered out of earshot, Nick bent down and unabashedly inhaled Leah’s fragrance.

“I don’t believe I’ve encountered lily of the valley on another woman. It suits you wonderfully.”

“I like your scent as well. Sandalwood, but something else too.”

“It’s blended exclusively for me. I didn’t want it too sweet, but sandalwood alone can be cloying. Now, why would your papa be selling an estate that should have been held in trust for you?”

“Because he does not consider himself under any obligation to provide a dowry for me,” Leah said. “I am fallen, and thus not worthy of such an honor.”

The sadness was muted behind a mask of composure, while hurt lingered in her eyes.

“Just how fallen are you?”

This silence was not quite so comfortable. The answer was none of Nick’s business, and yet, he wouldn’t withdraw the question.

“You ran off with that young man,” Nick guessed, “because you allowed him liberties.”

“I did,” Leah said, gaze fixed on the flat surface of the water. “Liberties only a husband should be allowed.”

So she was not a virgin, and Nick let out a long, slow breath. He hurt for her, because she’d thought to gift her lover with something irreplaceable, only to have the lover taken from her permanently. But another part of him, the part that panted and wagged its tail, was relieved. Stealing kisses from a woman of experience was not quite so reprehensible as stealing kisses from a virgin.

“You are not entirely chaste,” Nick concluded. “Take it from me, Leah, not as many brides are as they would have you believe. And many a wedding night would be more pleasant if there were fewer still.”

She moved along for a few steps, showing no reaction to his words. Nick realized belatedly that speaking from experience on this topic was perhaps not quite gentlemanly of him—for all it was honest.

“I should not have eloped,” Leah said. “But the earl had told Aaron he would not provide me a dowry, though he also said he would not withhold his blessing on a fait accompli. Aaron was convinced the earl was telling us to elope. Eloping would provide an explanation for my lack of dowry that Polite Society would accept without censuring my father.”

Something about this recitation did not add up. “You were intimate with Frommer, then he asked for your hand, and the earl told you to elope?”

“I was not intimate with Aaron until we had eloped. Aaron asked for my hand then met with the earl to gain his blessing. The earl said he would not dower me, that he expected Aaron to be able to support a wife without needing additional funds. At that point, Aaron believed the earl was telling him to spirit me away, and alas for me, I believed the same thing.”