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Accustomed to Simon’s long-winded rants, Eden nevertheless clamped her teeth and fisted her hands. She would not lose her temper in front of his lordship.

“I was chaperoned the entire time. A maid stayed in my chamber, and I didn’t even venture below to eat, but instead had a tray brought to my chamber.”

“A maid? A maid?’ Simon scoffed. “Who will believe such a farce? Servants can be bribed to say anything.”

Clearly, he preferred to think the worst of her.

“Now, see here. I daresay you’ve completely misunderstood the situation.”

Lord Sterling stepped forward, his expression so outraged, she truly believed he might attempt to throttle Simon. His hunter green cutaway edged in black velvet made his eyes appear almost bottle green in his anger.

“You’d do well to tend to your own business, Sterling.”

“I’ve made Miss Eden my business.”

Such command of presence and such vehemence accompanied his declaration, Eden blinked in astonishment.

Simon’s eyebrows vaulted skyward at that assertion, but before he could object, Lord Sterling said, “Your sister was soaked and freezing from having fallen into Black Beth last evening when the bridge gave way. I feared she’d catch lung fever.”

“It’s true, Simon. I almost drowned, and his lordship saved me.”

Her brother’s scathing look suggested he’d have preferred that she perished.

It had always been so, no matter how hard she tried to befriend him.

Lord Sterling scratched his head, his severe regard raking over Simon. “Would you have her sent home wet and bedraggled in the midst of last night’s storm? Risk her health or take a chance of another mishap along the way?”

“Yes, if it meant preserving her reputation and not staining mine in the process.” Simon snarled—actually snarled—and Mr. Wiggles whimpered, cowering closer to Eden’s feet.

No surprise there; Simon always thought of himself first.

“Be reasonable, Simon—”

He cut her off with a curt, dismissive gesture. “I don’t want to hear your contrived excuses. They matter naught.” He stabbed a finger toward Eden. “You’ve been compromised. You should’ve thought of the consequence before climbing into a bed at Perygrim. You’re of the same ilk as your drab of a mother. A lowborn trollop.”

Eden recoiled as if slapped. But only for a flash, before she jutted her pert chin out and glared at him.

“How dare you?” she said, barely able to cobble together a rational response through the red-hot haze of wrath engulfing her.

The spring sun might’ve burned away the morning’s chill, but the hatred emanating from him sent an icy shiver scuttling down her spine. His objection had less to do with her poor choice to stay at Perygrim and much more to do with his hostility because she even existed.

Brother or not, if she were a man, she’d call him out.

Head elevated in his customary haughty fashion, one leg cocked and a hand on his hip, he taunted, “Best watch yourself, Sterling, lest she try to entrap you as her conniving mother did my father.”

Eden’s breath caught on a gasp, and Mr. Wiggles pushed against her ankles in concern.

“That’s a foul lie, as you know full well. You despicable knave!”

A brusque sound of contempt rattled in his lordship’s throat, and he went rigid, his posture menacing.

“You overstep the mark, Andrews. Have a care, for I shan’t permit you to insult Miss Eden again without consequence.”

She abhorred violence, but she was feminine enough to appreciate a man defending her honor. For the very first time in her life, a male championed her. The foreign sensation bumping around her chest was secondary to the pulse raging at the base of her throat, however.

So much for the past years mellowing anyone’s tempers.

Having reached the end of her endurance, she strode to her half-brother. Petite like her mother, hands propped on her hips, she glowered up at him.