“No,” she said sharply, her chin lifting.
“Why not?”
She stared at him, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. “Because,” she said stiffly, “in my experience, men of privilege seem incapable of containing their lust even when dealing with ladies considered passably pretty.”
His lips curved despite himself. “You flatter yourself, Miss Winton. I have no interest in you in that regard.”
Her eyes narrowed even as her cheeks flamed redder. He held up both hands, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Forgive me. That was unkind. You are forgetting—I am your older brother, aren’t I?”
Her scowl deepened. “Do not jest with me, my lord.”
Sebastian sobered at once, stepping closer, lowering his voice. “I vow to you, Miss Winton, that the position is indeed available in my home. And while you and your sister reside beneath my roof, I will never be improper. I give you my word.”
Her eyes widened at that. Not with disbelief but with fragile, aching hope. And it twisted something low in his chest.
“Truly?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said gently. “I will speak with the landlady and settle whatever sum is owed. You may come with me tonight, if you’re willing.”
She hesitated, her gaze drifting to the cot where Sarah lay curled.
“I would be your employee,” she said slowly, as if testing the words for weight and consequence.
“And I,” he replied, “would be your employer. Nothing more. I will also pay you a handsome salary, given that accepting the post may impact your reputation.”
“How handsomely?”
“Five hundred pounds a year.”
She swayed. “That… that is incredibly generous, my lord. Lord Mayfield offered but a pound per month to be his mother’s companion. Your offer is far too kind.”
“When you see the state of the manor, you will understand,” he said dryly. “It is scarcely habitable while I restore it. Still, enough rooms are finished to see you and Sarah comfortably settled.”
Maryann closed her eyes, just for a breath, and when she opened them again, there was resolve shining through the shadows.
“Very well, my lord,” she said softly. “We accept.”
He inclined his head. “Good. Gather whatever belongings you require. I shall return home and come back for you both with my carriage.”
“There’s no need to put yourself out on our account tonight, my lord. You may collect us in the morning.”
His mouth quirked. “My sisters will not spend another night in such accommodations.”
She stared at him for several heartbeats before nodding, then turned away swiftly, perhaps to hide the emotion trembling on her lashes. Sebastian stepped outside, rain misting down around him again, though he hardly noticed. There were many things he did not understand about Miss Maryann Winton. But one truth had begun to settle in his bones with quiet certainty—she would be the most dangerous woman he had ever allowed into his life.
Not because she was bold or cunning, or even particularly seductive.
But because she made himfeel. Unfamiliar things. Inconvenient things. Protectiveness. Attraction. A flicker of something dangerously close to admiration. All of it mocked the quiet vow he’d made years ago to want nothing he could not easily leave behind. He told himself he would be careful around her, that he would be the gentleman.Always.
But as he’d looked at her in that shabby little room, with her pride wrapped tightly around her, he knew one thing for certain. Nothing about having her under his roof was going to be simple. And it would be a remarkable thing, trying not to want her.
CHAPTER 5
The morning was sun-warmed and quiet, the kind of stillness one only found in the countryside, where the world felt suspended in a breath between birdsong and breeze. Maryann’s worn boots brushed against the trimmed grass as she crossed the gentle rise beyond the east lawn, the hem of her faded muslin gown catching the dew clinging to the blades. She exhaled slowly, savoring the rare sensation of peace.
The journey from London had been, to her surprise, both pleasant and free of anxiety. When she had fled the earl’s residence in panic and dread, Maryann never imagined she would encounter Viscount Ranford on those very streets. Only divine providence could have placed him there at such a moment when she had needed help most.
Even more astonishing was how swiftly her fear had ebbed the instant she recognized him. Somehow, instinctively, she had known he would not let harm befall her. Even now, the mere thought of the Earl of Mayfield made her stomach twist. She had done her best to forget the way his hand had grazed her arm, how his voice had dipped with mock tenderness as he offered her a life in exchange for sexual obedience.
