Miss Winton delicately cleared her throat. “I am no longer employed,” she said, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and firming her lips against their betraying tremble. “I daresay your mother will be most displeased when I write to request a letter of recommendation for another post.”
He glanced around the small room. It was clean, meticulously so, but spare—painfully spare. The wallpaper was faded, the furniture mismatched, the hearth faintly smoking as if it struggled to warm the space. Something cold settled in his chest. This was where the daughter of a baronet had come to live. It was a disgrace. Not of her making, but still a damnable one.
“I presume you’d like an explanation,” she said, her tone shaky.
“I would like to know what the devil happened,” he replied. “If you are comfortable sharing it. If not, I will respect that, Miss Winton.”
She didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, in a low voice, she said, “The Earl of Mayfield offered me employment as a companion to his mother. Tonight, he came to me with the expectation of… privileges. When I refused, he forcefully persisted. I struck him with a vase. The footmen chased me, presumably to take me to the authorities.”
Bloody hell. That rotten blackguard, Sebastian thought, fury surging inside his chest.
Her shoulders shook. He crossed the room without thinking and drew her into his arms. Miss Winton stiffened at first, but then she sagged against him, sobbing into his coat. Her scent, sun-ripened peaches and rose, clung to him.
“You’re safe now,” he murmured, not understanding where this raw protectiveness surged from. “No one will touch you. I will see to it.”
She pulled away abruptly, eyes fierce through her tears. “What is the cost of your protection, my lord?”
Sebastian stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “Without any hesitation, you offer me your protection. You owe me nothing, and we are not friends or family.” Miss Winton squared her shoulders. “I will not be any man’s mistress. I will not trade my dignity for safety.”
Sebastian’s jaw clenched, and something unfamiliar—something jagged—twisted in his chest. “Miss Winton,” he said softly, “I would never insult you with such a proposition.”
Tears still shimmered in her eyes. “You do not seem like the kind of gentleman to make offers but seduce one to be at your will.”
Sebastian stared at her, wondering just how many men had wounded her with such crude expectations. “Is that so?”
“I have a keen sense of observation, my lord.”
A rough chuckle escaped him. “You are… like family.”
“Likefamily?” she parroted.
“Yes. Your sisters are under my mother’s tutelage and will live with my mother and father until they are wedded and secure. That makes them my sisters of sorts… So… think of me as a sort of older brother.”
Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned red. Sebastian arched a brow, wondering what the hell she was thinking.
“I should consider you mybrother,” she said skeptically.
“Hmm,” he said noncommittally. “I’ve always wanted sisters.”
She made a choking sound and glanced away from him.
He looked at the room again. The cot. The cracked window. The pale, sleeping child. No. This would not do. “There is a puddle in that corner,” he said quietly, his gaze settling on the damp patch darkening the warped wooden floorboards.
“No doubt from a leaking roof.” He glanced at the unlit hearth. “There is no fire, and I’ve no doubt that if you and your… sister remain here much longer, you’ll both take a chill.”
Miss Winton’s brow furrowed, and he could see the flicker of confusion and suspicion in her eyes.
“Come with me to Hertfordshire,” he said. “I leave in the morning.”
She gasped, taking a few instinctive steps back from him, her cheeks paling. “I beg your pardon?”
“It would be entirely proper,” he said at once, holding up a hand to forestall the protest already forming on her lips. “I am in need of a capable housekeeper and cook.”
“A housekeeper and cook?” she repeated, incredulous, as if uncertain whether to be insulted or suspicious.
“Yes,” he said, straightening. “I am restoring a manor in Hertfordshire, and the staff there is abysmal. I require someone of intelligence and discretion. It is respectable work.”
