Does it even count if nobody knows?
Marched to the chair in front of the vanity, Amelia didn’t bother complaining or arguing any further. Not even as Miss Henrietta tugged at her hair so hard Amelia felt a few strands come away, or when she began to jabbing pins into her scalp.
Because this was her life.
Her short taste of freedom, she realized, had come to an end.
THE HONORABLE THING
“Most likely, they’ll cut their losses and run,” Winterhope opined after Leopold relayed the result of his carelessness on the boat the night before.
Losing the ship, ironically, seemed insignificant today.
“You think they’ll port in Southampton?” Leopold asked.
“Crossings will be waiting for them if they turn up in London, and I doubt they’re looking forward to any sort of a reunion with him.”
Leopold tapped his pencil on his desk, nodding. Crossings would be livid once he learned they’d lost half the tea.
But really, this issue only had half his attention. The other half was with…
“I nearly didn’t recognize her,” said Winterhope, apparently noticing Leopold’s lack of focus. Was he truly so obvious? But Winterhope was fiddling with the lace on his sleeve now, frowning. It was a tell of his; the man must be feeling bothered about something.
Well, Leopold wasn’t going to help him. Winterhope could bloody well spit it out for himself, whatever it was. Leopold remained silent, waiting.
And he was right, as he usually was with this sort of thing. The words burst out of Winterhope as if they had been held back under pressure.
“If you’ve compromised her in any way—if you’ve ruined her, you’ll have to marry her, you know.”
This wasn’t just a warning; there was self-righteous judgement in the man’s tone, which Leopold did not care for.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. Bloody society. She wasawoman, damn it—a brave, smart, compassionate, flesh and blood human being. Not milk that could sour or some inanimate object that could be broken. But the nobility would see her sold off to the first man to get her alone, for the great crime of being sullied by the mere possibility of his touch. Leopold sneered. “Aside from the fact that the so-called ‘honor’ thetonbelieves in is a sham at best,” he went on, “I’m not actually one of you. I’ve never followed your rules, and I won’t be starting now.”
Leopold hated that he’d been caught off guard. Even more, he hated this feeling that he was running out of time.
Winterhope scoffed. Repressed as he often was, he nonetheless wasn’t a man to back down easily, not when he got like this. “And what of Lady Amelia? You don’t have a care for what will happen to her, then?”
Leopold turned and stared out the window. “Lady Amelia will be fine. She’s the daughter of a marquess.” But then he swung back around.
Winterhope shouldn’t need reminding. He ought to be well aware of Amelia’s sodding pedigree, having come so close to marrying her himself. “Her family has money and power, influence. What good is all that nonsense if it can’t get you nobs out of a few scrapes every now and again?”
“That’s not how it works.” Winterhope kept his voice level but flicked his lace again. “You may not care for the rules of theton, but you cannot simply wish them away. Lady Amelia’sreputation is all she has. She depends on it to be accepted in her world—to secure a husband.” Winterhope narrowed his eyes. “So tell me, have you done anything to ruin that for her?”
Leopold pressed his lips together. He hated the whole damned institution. What right did they have to dictate someone’s life like this?
He would argue more, but ultimately, he refused to allow anyone to think less of her.
“She isn’t ruined,” he said almost grudgingly.Fucking hell.
“Good.”
The sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor broke the tension in the room, and Winterhope rose from his chair. Rather than move toward the door, however, he held out his hand. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
Leopold nodded, though some part of his insides seemed to squirm as he did.
He inhaled, but before he could say anything stupid, someone knocked on the door.
“Enter,” he called.
