“An engagement is not a permanent solution,” Leah said, “but I’d take it, if it were the only option.”

“Engagements can last months, years even. If you are engaged to my brother Beckman, the earl will no doubt soon be casting our family into mourning. That would buy you a year.”

“That is ghoulish, Nick, to use your father’s death that way, to buy me time to escape Wilton.”

Impossible woman—not that he particularly liked the idea of even a temporary engagement between Beckman and Leah. “I can get you to the Continent. You could go back to Italy and wait Wilton out. He won’t live forever.”

If anything, her pretty mouth became more grim. “I will not become your dependent, though Italy has a certain appeal. I was happy there, all things considered. I would be there without a brother or father, though, so it could be more difficult than it was five years ago.”

“Would your brothers help you leave the country?” This was an obvious solution, one he should have thought of sooner, and the only one she wasn’t shooting down right out of the gate. “You are not a minor, so you should be free to leave, and you already know the language, I presume?”

“I do. It isn’t so different from Latin, though I’m rusty, of course. I think supporting me would be a hardship for Darius and Trent though.”

“Why is that?” Nick slowed his steps as much as he could, because they would soon come back to their starting point.

“Darius has tied his coin up in that place in Kent,” Leah explained. “When Ambrose Place was sold, Darius took what little my mother left him and sank it into his own property. He gets a very small stipend from the Wilton estate, but Trenton and I are both puzzled as to how Darius supports himself. I don’t think Darius has coin to spare, and Trenton is in much the same boat, because his funds are derived from those of his children.”

“Unfortunate. We will continue to think on this, though. I cannot accept your present circumstances, even if—and you will note the conditional—old Hellerington’s guns have been spiked.”

“I will brace my brothers on the prospect of a return to Italy.”

“If it’s a matter of passage money or a stipend…” Nick began.

“No,” Leah said firmly. “You have tied up too much coin buying Hellerington’s markers, in the first place. In the second, you are going to be marrying soon, and you cannot be supporting me while you are waiting at the altar for your countess.”

A logical woman was an abomination against the natural order, or at least against Nick’s protective intentions.

“Do you think I wouldn’t be supporting a mistress if it pleased me to do so?” The question was out, a function of how rattled Nick felt at the prospect of Leah having to leave the country again to escape her father’s scheming.

“You will not keep a mistress once you’ve chosen your bride. You would not dishonor your wife that way.”

She was as bad as Valentine. “I keep no mistress because I enjoy variety, not because I entertain any notion of being faithful to my countess.”

Now, now when they must part in moments, she beamed a smile at him. “Tell yourself that, if you must. You are not that hard of heart, Nicholas.”

Bother that—though he loved hearing her use his name to scold him. “How did you enjoy your visit with my grandmother?” Nick knew it was a maladroit change of subject, but a gentleman didn’t argue with a lady, and Leah was just so… wrong.

“She is a lovely woman and asked to call upon me tomorrow.”

“Be warned,” Nick said as they approached the waiting footman. “I might join her.”

“That would be lovely.” Leah gave him a smile that reached her eyes, and Nick searched his mind in vain for the reasons he wasn’t going to make her his mistress.

“I will make a point of it then.” Nick smiled back at her, knowing the footman’s eyes were goggling out of his head. Nick bent over Leah’s gloved hand then straightened without turning loose of her. “And that other matter I raised with you? We’ll both put our minds to it, and I’m sure a solution will present itself. My thanks for your company, my lady, and until next we meet, may you keep well.”

Before swanning off with Wilton’s spy in tow, Leah bobbed the requisite curtsy, and waited that extra beat of the heart for Nick to release her hand. Nick watched her go, thinking he usually engaged in the flirtation and innuendo business without thought, but in this instance, he sincerely hadn’t wanted to let her hand go.

Try as he might, he could not come up with a credible reason he shouldn’t marry her, but Leah as his mistress? No. Not now, not ever, not even if she begged him, naked on her knees between his…

“Jesus, help me.”

Emily smiled over at Leah from between the pages of a small volume. “I am enjoying this book to no end. Miss Willers claims she does not know the language of the fan or the glove or the parasol, but the way she says it makes me think she simply disapproves.”

Leah glanced up from her needlework and kept her voice down. “She is not a finishing governess. It’s very likely she doesn’t know, Em. She’s taught you a great deal though. And a decent girl hardly needs to be sending coy signals with her fan, her parasol, or her gloves.”

Though a decent girl might dearly wish to send those signals.

“My French is wonderful,” Emily said, “my Italian passable, and my manners impeccable. I can do fetching needlepoint, I play the piano a little, and I know how to seat any dinner party of up to thirty if the Regent and his Princess are not both attending.”

“I don’t know who could solve that particular puzzle. You do not seem very proud of your accomplishments.”

“I’ve been at lessons for ten years, Leah.” Emily used a feather as her bookmark, a pure white quill about six inches long. “What do a few words of French or Italian matter when it’s my face and my fortune that will decide my future?”

What was this about? “You’d be surprised how handy some foreign languages can be, but you have a point. Your skill at academics should not entirely decide your future, nor should your face and fortune.”

“What does that leave, if you discount funds, brains, and appearance?”

“Your heart, little Sister. Your inherent virtue, your goodness or lack thereof, your humor or kindness or graciousness toward others. Those things should count for something with the man who seeks to marry you.”

Emily’s expression became solemn. “I do not mean to be unkind, Leah, but you chose a man based on such qualities, and look what befell you. I do not want to end up like you.”

“Well said.” The Earl of Wilton stepped into the room, his smile of approval for Emily only. “Your older sister was selfish, foolish, and properly made to suffer for her sins. You will be wiser than she, and life will reward you for it.”

“I hope so, Papa,” Emily murmured, careful not to look at Leah.

“Excuse us now, Emily,” the earl bade her.

Emily was out the door before Leah could blink, for which Leah could not blame her. With Wilton looking on, Emily did not dare show Leah too much deference.

“You think to corrupt your younger sister, miss?” The earl remained standing, his hands tucked behind his back while Leah sat before him.

“I think to encourage her to be happy.” Leah bent her head to her embroidery hoop but did not yield to the urge to cringe.

“Your example has proven instructive,” the earl said, beaming a malicious smile. “It did not occur to me you would have value as a cautionary tale, but it appears you do. I bring you words of caution as well, Leah.”

Leah raised her gaze to his and felt her chest constrict at the hatred she saw. “I am listening.”

“Hellerington rescheduled his appointment with me last week, but today I have his note postponing the meeting indefinitely. This tells me you have failed to secure the attentions of even such a one as he, who would at least have taken you off my hands and perhaps paid modestly for the privilege.”