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“I didn’t want to be presented at court under a false name!” she wailed.

“It is not a false name. You are Lady Lydia. Our father loved you.”

“Not enough to stay in this world,” she said bitterly. “He knew I wasn’t his child. His wife betrayed him. He . . . he took his life because there was no one to keep him here.”

“Not due to that reason,” Giles said instantly. But he wrapped his other arm around her, pulled her against his shoulder, and started rubbing her back. She was so thin that he could feel every bump in her spine.

After a while, she straightened and blew her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I know how much you dislike an excess of sensibility.”

“I do not dislike it,” Giles said. “I just seem incapable of deep feeling myself.”

“Of expressing it, perhaps, but you feel it,” Lydia retorted.

Giles was fairly sure he didn’t. He certainly had never entertained the idea that he didn’t deserve his title. “I have more memories of Father than you do,” he said, allowing her to slip backward into her seat again. “He was a troubled man, Lydia. He experienced deep misery well before his thefts were revealed to society. His constitution was not the fault of his wife nor his children.”

Lydia sighed. “Right.”

“I clearly remember when Mother announced that she was carrying a child. Our father was happy, rather than angry. They lived detached but civil lives, Lydia, in separate parts of the country house. He thought you were a beautiful baby. Thinking back, I don’t think he gave a damn who the father was.”

His sister managed a wavering smile.

“Remember all those lawsuits Mother launched to avenge him, suing those whose gossip made him unhappy? I think he was the love of her life, no matter how many men she may have slept with. More to the point, I do not think that Mother’s choices can be applied to Yasmin.”

“Her mother is just like our mother.” Lydia sniffled and regained a little bit of her normal fieriness. “They both used adultery to gain a title. Well, Mother may not have been married to your father yet, but it amounts to the same thing.”

Giles thought about Lydia’s recent behavior but held his tongue.

“Oh, I’m a hypocrite,” his sister said. “Disgustingly so. But Yasmin . . .” Her voice shook and she stopped to swallow. “Please, please don’t marry someone like our mother,” Lydia pleaded, clasping her hands together. “Did she say yes?”

“She is considering the matter,” Giles said.

Lydia shook her head. “Only you would use such dry words to describe a proposal, Giles. If she accepts, of course, there is no recourse.”

Giles nodded. “I wish to marry her, Lydia.”

“You’re not in love with her!”

“I don’t think I’m capable of such an excess of sensibility.” He managed a smile. “But I care for her, and I genuinely wish to marry her.”

“Because you enjoy her skill in the bedchamber,” Lydia retorted. “Don’t you see what a mistake that is, Giles? To marry with a woman because you enjoy bedding her? You will end up living on opposite sides of the house, holding a baby with no resemblance to you.”

“A dark vision,” Giles said. “Unfair, I think.”

“There’s nothing to be done about it now,” Lydia said bleakly. “I’m amazed that she didn’t accept your proposal on the spot. Perhaps she’s hoping to play you off against the Duke of Huntington and gain an even higher title.” She pinned her eyes on Giles. “I shall pray that Yasmin refuses you, Giles. If only because one of us should marry for love.”

“Love can come after marriage,” Giles said.

“Perhaps,” Lydia said wearily. “At least Lord Pettigrew is an honorable man. He won’t flaunt his mistress in my face.”

“Did you know he trained as a barrister?” Giles asked, remembering Yasmin’s account of Pettigrew. “So many gentlemen do nothing at all, Lydia. I understand that he practices occasionally, defending the indigent.”

“Yes, he’s marvelously virtuous.” Lydia took a deep breath. “Luckily, I like dogs since that is his primary subject of conversation.”

Giles’s brows knit.

“No, it’s quite all right. I need someone like him. He steadies me. When I am in the grip of an excess of sensibility, I mean. And in case you’re wondering, I won’t play him false, as Mother did.”

“All right,” Giles said. But it wasn’t all right. He had neglected his sister, never realizing that she was in such pain. He had never known how to cope with her moods, so he had avoided them, which meant avoiding her.