Page 6

“No matter where they grow up, your responsibility as my wife will include introducing my wards to the ton,” Kelbourne said flatly.

Torie held her breath while silence pooled in the drawing room. Not even Sir William’s glass clinked.

Just before the stillness became unbearable, Leonora gifted her fiancé with a sweet, utterly false smile and murmured, “As I said, I shall never neglect to do my duty as your wife. Florence promises to be beautiful, and of course that will help her marital prospects.”

Sir William stepped forward so quickly that liquor slopped over the rim of his glass, its fruity odor swamping Leonora’s perfume. “A lady does require a nanny,” he said, either missing the subtext of the conversation or ignoring it. “My household always had one, along with three nursemaids. My wife wouldn’t have accepted anything less.”

In Torie’s opinion, the veil of Leonora’s ladylike composure would shred at any moment, so she jumped to her feet. “If everyone will please excuse me, I shall greet Lord Kelbourne’s wards in the nursery.”

“I would be delighted to escort you upstairs.” His lordship rose.

Leonora’s eyes brightened. “You may not have an unmarried aunt in the family, Lord Kelbourne, but we have Victoria. She could raise those children in a cottage on your country estate.”

Torie forced her lips to curl into a smile. “I am not yet an old maid.”

“This Season is your third,” Leonora retorted. “I have no expectation that a worthy man will overlook your inability to run a household.”

“Your sister has received several proposals of marriage,” their father declared, setting down his glass with a click.

“Mostly withdrawn,” Leonora said dismissively. She leaned forward and gave Torie an encouraging smile. “You would do better to retire to the country, Victoria. You could indulge in your painting. Just think of all the rabbits hopping around the countryside.”

“I’m afraid that I must decline,” Torie said. “I am holding out for a love match,” she told Kelbourne.

He gave her a disbelieving stare, but Torie shrugged. She had not yet met the man she hoped for.

Leonora finally lost her temper. “You’re holding out for a miracle! A merely respectable dowry, a thick waist, and the inability to read or write . . . All the charm in the world won’t win you a worthy man. You’ll end up living under Lord Kelbourne’s roof, so you might as well make yourself useful now.”

Torie swallowed hard. Leonora was snappy when she was fraught emotionally, but she was still Nora, the big sister who always cuddled Torie after Nanny beat her hands with a ruler, shouted at her, and took away her supper—and often her breakfast as well—all because she couldn’t learn her ABCs.

“You paint rabbits?” Kelbourne inquired, acting as if his fiancée’s string of insults had not occurred.

“My younger daughter is a painter,” Sir William put in, his words slurring just a touch. “Kittens, roses, and bunnies, isn’t that right, Torie? Any gentleman would be fortunate to marry her.”

Torie drew herself as upright as possible, regretting that she didn’t have Leonora’s stature. Height made it so much easier to appear dignified. She raised her chin and met Kelbourne’s eyes. “I think kittens and roses are excellent subjects for paintings,” she said defiantly. “And rabbits as well, though I find their hindquarters difficult to manage.”

“A distasteful remark,” Leonora commented.

“You eat a rabbit leg fast enough,” her father pointed out. “Would you rather we refer to a rabbit rump?” He chuckled. “Rump of rear rabbit!”

“I can find my way to the nursery without an escort,” Torie said. She dropped a curtsy and treated the company to a glowing smile. “Sir William, please be so kind as to send our maid upstairs when you are ready to leave.”

Leonora had insisted on Emily accompanying them to dinner on the grounds that their father might collapse into a sodden heap, at which point chaperonage would be required.

“We’re supping here,” Sir William reminded her, picking up his brandy snifter again. At this rate, her father would pass out before the meal commenced.

“I shall dine with the children,” Torie said. She rationed the time she spent with her family members, and today’s limit was reached.

Exceeded, really.

The viscount opened his mouth, but Leonora continued before he could speak. “It’s best that Victoria come to know your wards, Kelbourne. One never knows what the future may hold.”

Except her sister did seem to have a clear view of the future: one in which Torie mothered orphans and never had a family of her own.

Torie held her smile as she walked away, which felt like a triumph.

Chapter 4

Torie was at the door to the drawing room when she realized that her sister’s fiancé had followed her.