couldn’t bring himself to have mercy on her. He held her gaze, willing her to see what he couldn’t tell her, knowing he was being a coward.
“You love another,” Leah decided, her tone ominously calm. “You love a woman you cannot marry, and you’ve promised her your marriage will be in name only. I’m not sure if this is chivalrous of you, Nicholas, or deranged.”
Nick blinked, realizing in an instant Leah’s hypothesis was a version of truth, and—more important—credible to her.
“I’ve promised my father a countess. I’ve promised you safety, and you’ve promised me you will think about this before you answer.” The pseudo-syllogism pleased him, bringing order to a difficult situation.
“Do you want me to hate you?” Leah asked, incredulity seeping into her words. “You offer me safety and the daily insult of knowing your promises to another woman preclude you from giving to me that which you’ve already assured yourself—assured us both—I could desire passionately.”
“It isn’t like that,” Nick said. It was exactly like that. “I cannot risk having children with you, Leah. If what you want is easing of your needs, I can do that without taking my clothes off.”
It would kill him to attempt it, and yet—
“Nicholas”—Leah’s voice was very soft—“I’ve given you my word I will consider your offer, and I will keep my word, but right now, I do not understand you. What you’ve offered, and what you just said, is the first indication I’ve had that you are capable of unkindness. I am disappointed, and will take my leave of you.”
She turned to go. Nick’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“I am sorry,” he said, searching her gaze for some hint of common ground, of understanding. “If there were another way, if you find another way, I’d offer you that instead.”
“That provides a great deal of comfort, Nicholas.” Leah’s voice was still soft, but her eyes narrowed slightly, and she didn’t give Nick time to react before she leaned up and brushed a kiss across his lips.
Her pace was dignified, her spine straight as she took her leave. The door closed quietly behind her, leaving Nick, two fingers against his lips, staring at the closed door in miserable silence.
***
“I’m off to the arms of my muse.” Val bowed to his companions and slipped out the door, the ladies having already vacated the dining room to retire above stairs, arm in arm.
Ethan eyed Nick from across the table. “Do we get drunk here or in the study?”
Plain speaking, for which Nick was grateful. “We’ll be closer to the piano in the study,” Nick said. “Am I that obvious?”
“Not particularly.” Ethan shoved to his feet. “But between you and Lady Leah, there was a certain lack of conversation. Did you upset the lady during that tête-à-tête you had earlier today?”
“Royally.” Nick followed Ethan out the door. “And she deserves better.”
“Has it occurred to you to offer her better?” Ethan asked as he pushed open the door of the study and headed to the decanter.
“You don’t know what I did offer her,” Nick said. “Don’t be skimping on the brandy, Brother. I have serious matters to regret.”
Ethan handed him a glass half-full of brandy. “Not you too.”
“Me too.” Nick nodded his thanks. “I’ve spoken with Leah’s brothers, and something must be done, sooner rather than later.” Nick lowered himself to the sofa.
“Speaking of Lady Leah’s brothers”—Ethan slid down on the other end of the couch—“I was out riding this afternoon and came across Darius Lindsey. The last time I saw him, he was in the company of that dreadful Cowell woman. The one who likes to rouge her nipples under her silks.”
“The lovely Blanche. I’m supposed to warn him off of her, so to speak. I didn’t realize he was rusticating, but without Leah to squire around, I don’t suppose there’s any need for him to be in Town.” Nick closed his eyes and toed off his boots, then propped his feet on the low table before the sofa. “I did something stupid today, Ethan.”
“If we’re to imitate the Papists, the proper introduction is ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,’” Ethan replied easily. “Are you sure I’m the one you want to talk it over with? Windham is the nonjudgmental sort.”
Nick smiled slightly. “Val can be a bloody Puritan, and I’ll no doubt hear from him directly, in any case.”
Ethan got up with the air of a man resigned to a long-suffering fate, and brought the decanter over to the table. When he sat, he