Page 39

He shoved his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets and turned sharply on his heel, sucking air through his nose to try his best to calm down. “I want you both to have a chance to choose your own husband. With so little money in the bank and our father’s spendthrift reputation, that becomes a slimmer and slimmer possibility. Even more so if you stay here in Kent. I need to be able to take you to London and find you a chaperone for a proper season.”

Effie stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “We know that, Nicholas, but that burden shouldn’t be yours to bear entirely. We’re a family.”

“And what do our marriage prospects have to do with a woman you met?” asked Helen.

“Everything,” he said before he could stop himself.

Effie’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

He sank down on the sofa and scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to figure out the best way to tell his sisters that he’d been an ass who fell in love with the wrong woman. Or, rather, the right woman who didn’t agree with him that she was perfect just the way she was.

“I met a woman named Jane Ephram on my trip, and through a series of events we spent some days in each other’s company. I asked her to marry me,” he said wearily. “She said no.”

Helen sat down heavily next to him, all of her bluster gone. “She said no?”

“She did.”

“Oh, Nicholas, I’m sorry.”

She covered his hand with hers and gave his fingers a squeeze, but Effie didn’t move. She was still scrutinizing him with a keen eye.

“Why?” Effie finally asked.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean why. Does she not love you?”

“I wouldn’t presume to know a lady’s heart,” he hedged. The last thing he wanted to do was tell his sisters Jane’s reasoning. He didn’t want them to feel somehow responsible for his own failings or Jane’s hesitations. They weren’t to blame in this.

“What did she say when you told her you loved her?” asked Effie.

I can’t love you as you want me to. She didn’t deny that she loved him, but she didn’t come out and say it. And he knew why. She was putting his sisters and their happiness ahead of her own, just as he’d done for years.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“It does,” his sister pushed.

He drew in a breath and braced himself for the tears that would surely follow. No doubt his sisters would be beside themselves when they realized they were the reason Jane couldn’t see herself as the fourth Baroness Hollings.

“We are not discussing this.”

“Nicholas,” said Effie in a low voice, “is this Jane Ephram a woman of loose morals?”

“What? No!”

“It’s perfectly all right to speak frankly in front of us,” said Helen. “We read novels.”

“You’re learning about loose women from novels?” he nearly roared.

“They’re quite informative. We can give you a list of recommendations if you’re unfamiliar with them,” said Helen.

“We will revisit your reading habits at a later time,” he said, glowering.

Effie smiled brilliantly. “Good luck trying.”

“So this Miss Ephram isn’t a fallen dove,” said Helen. “Perhaps she’s a widow, then? Or maybe she’s not widowed yet! Have you taken up with a married woman whose husband is cruel? Have you promised to help her leave him?”

“Stop sounding so delighted, Helen,” Effie said before glancing at Nicholas. “Unless of course it’s true.”