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Lenora frowned. Nettie wasn’t wrong. Marriage had been her aim.

Heavens, how she wanted Asquith! Their kiss had been invigorating despite his lackluster response.

But there’d been a tension in Asquith’s body... an anger she hadn’t expected.

When he’d raised his voice at her, she’d had the bewildering sense that Asquith, a man whom she’d known from boyhood, a man whose face was as dear to her as those of her sisters, might be someone she did not know at all.

Could that be true?

Emily hummed in a pensive manner. “If marriage was Lenora’s only aim, she could have compromised Asquith ages ago.”

“That’s silly,” Nettie said. “Ladies cannot compromise men.”

“I beg to differ,” Emily replied. “Although I’ve never met a woman who schemed for a man’s affection without also thinking marriage to her would improve his life.”

“Benevolent manipulation?” Nettie queried.

Emily shook her head. “Benevolent manipulation is impossible.” Emily flashed Lenora an apologetic glance. “However, I can understand why you had to give Asquith a gentle nudge.”

Lenora inwardly winced.

She and Emily both knew there wasn’t any difference between overt manipulation and “a gentle nudge.” She had convinced herself she had been acting in Asquith’s best interests, but now she wondered...

If her motives had been entirely selfish, what had she done?

“Ah, Lenora.” Emily said. “Don’t look so stricken. If I had a guardian other than my brother, and believed I was in love with him, I would not allow him to marry me off to another.” She placed her hand on Lenora’s knee. “You may not have been fighting fair, but passively accepting another man’s courtship was out of the question.”

Lenora’s eyes smarted, and she blinked. “You do understand.”

“Of course I do,” Emily replied. “And now that you’ve earned the opportunity to present your argument, feeling anxious is completely natural.”

Lenora slumped as far as her stays would allow. “What am I going to do? I am at a loss.”

“Let us think,” Emily said.

They all frowned down at their hands.

“Maybe,” Emily suggested, “you should forget about concocting a grand plan and just focus on sensation.” She adjusted herself in her seat. “Answer me this: as you lay your head down tonight, how do you want to feel?”

At present, the answer was simple—less guilty. But in the immediate aftermath of the encounter?

She wasn’t sure.

She closed her eyes and imagined a positive outcome, focusing on her sentiments rather than how, exactly, those sentiments had been inspired.

Her breath slowed. Tension drained from her face. Her heart lightened, and her mind calmed. Tonight, she wanted to feel hopeful, tender, and eager for the next interaction.

Like Eliza looked after she returned from a ride with Adrian in their new curricle. Or, like Lady Asquith, after she’d had a good, long coze with her brother, Sir Brenton. Or, like Millie after she and Asquith had taken his horses out for a trot.

In other words, like a lady who had just spent time with a boon companion.

She opened her eyes. “Tonight, I want Asquith to feel like he’s just met with a friend.”

Both Emily’s and Nettie’s heads tilted in unison.

“Not what I asked,” Emily observed.

“And not very romantic, either,” Nettie added.