She gulped. “Loftus, please. You’re my brother and I love you, but I don’t understand your hostility. I’ve always thought the world of you.”

  “You were always a gullible little fool,” he sneered. He turned away and gave the door a hard kick. “Open up!”

  No one did as he asked, though.

  “Diana and Clare are here,” she said, hoping that might soften him up. He was their guardian. “They need you.”

  “A pair of leeches, just as you always were, forever getting in my way. Now they are as ruined as you’ve made yourself by setting foot under West’s roof!” Loftus crowed.

  “We came to see you,” she protested.

  “No one decent will have you once this excursion of yours becomes known—and believe me, everyone will know by the time I’m through.” He laughed cruelly. “Or have you come for another reason? Is there another mouth on the way?”

  She was utterly shocked when he looked at her belly. She balled her hands into fists. “I would allow no such thing. I am a proper lady.”

  Loftus shrugged. “Hardly.”

  “I have been in mourning these last two years, as I thought you were.”

  “Your mourning was for the money you lost access to when my father died,” Loftus said, sneering.

  “What are you going to do about the estate? There’s so much that needs repair. You cannot let the place Papa loved most in the world fall into even greater neglect.”

  “I will do nothing,” he claimed. “It is entailed, so I cannot sell it or reap any enjoyment from living there, and so I will not waste good money for no reward. I’ll not lift a finger to keep you in the manner you must expect, either.”

  “What about the girls? The dowries Father promised?”

  “There’re no dowries mentioned in that will,” he said too quickly, then slammed his fist on the door. “West, I’m done,” he yelled. “Open this door before I burn the house down!”

  The door lock clicked, and Loftus wrenched it open.

  “Someone betrayed me,” he growled. “Did you bring her here?”

  “I was concerned,” Sidney West answered, though he remained out of sight. “And I thought I could help mend the breach.”

  “The only help you can be is to toss her out into the gutter.” Loftus turned on Edith. “Expect your ruin, Edith. Someone will have you on your back before the night is out.”

  Loftus stormed away, and she heard Sidney West shouting at him to wait. Their voices grew dim, and Edith was left alone with her mind spinning in panic.

  Three

  “Loftus Dean,” Sidney yelled as he chased his friend to the front door, appalled by all he’d overheard of his conversation with Edith. The venom had been all too clear. He’d been shocked by what he and the housekeeper had heard through the door. “You can’t abandon her!”

  Loftus waved a hand. “I have.”

  Sidney grabbed Edith’s brother by the shoulder and hauled him around. “You can’t treat your sisters like this.”

  “Watch me,” Loftus answered, straightening his coat. “She’s known this was coming.”

  “No, she has not,” Sidney argued.

  Edith cared about her brother, though right now, Sidney couldn’t imagine why. There was a depth of callous disregard in the man that surprised him. The man should care what became of his siblings and do all he could to keep them safe.

  “Her mother certainly knew how I felt. I warned her I wouldn’t lift a finger to help after Papa was gone, and that’s why Edith’s here now. To butter me up for money like she did Papa for all those years.”

  “The money is to feed your sisters and fix the gaping hole in your roof,” Sidney cried.

  Loftus reared back. “Well, aren’t you remarkably well informed about the condition of my despised country estate? But you’ve saved me the trouble of having to throw them out myself,” he crowed, then looked at him with glee. “Now I can have the house torn down.”

  “Dean?”

  “If you value our friendship, you’ll forget you ever met her,” he said and turned away. Dean strutted back into the drawing room to a loud welcome, pulled a light skirt into his arms, and kissed her soundly. Clearly, Loftus Dean believed the business with his sister was over and done with.

  However, Edith was still in Sidney’s house. An innocent woman and the only family two little girls could depend upon. Sidney was the only one who seemed to care what happened to any of them.

  The housekeeper tugged on his sleeve. “Please, sir, you must come.”

  “Yes, I suppose I must speak with Miss Dean.” Edith could be upset, crying. He’d have to wait out her theatrics until she could compose herself.

  “You can talk, but Miss Dean…there’s something terribly wrong with her.”

  Sidney hastened his steps to the study to find Edith sitting in a chair, staring into the fire. Her cheeks were pale as chalk, but it was her vacant expression that instantly alarmed him—no tears, and his heart hammered when she didn’t notice his arrival. Not even addressing her by her first name brought a reaction.

  He waved a hand before her face and her eyes did not blink, and then he touched her soft, cold cheek. She did not pull away, as any woman of virtue should do with a rake.

  The housekeeper wrung her hands at his side. “She’s been like this since I returned.”

  “She’s in shock,” he whispered, even as he grasped her by both arms. He shook her gently, and her head lolled from side to side.

  He slapped her cheek lightly, to no response whatsoever. Then he did it again.

  “Sir, be gentle with her. She’s quite frail.”

  He caught her face between his hands and peered deeply into her unfocussed eyes. Not a flicker of recognition in those beautiful orbs greeted him. “We should send for a doctor.”

  “She needs rest more than a bleeding,” the housekeeper said, moving closer to take Edith from him.

  “I’ll carry her up to a bed then,” he decided, although he probably should leave her in the servant’s care. However, the idea of anyone touching Edith set his teeth on edge. Not that Sidney deserved the honor, but he was the closest thing to a friend she might have in the world right now.

  Edith was as light as air, and he held her close as he traversed the hall away from his study. They took the servants’ stairs. In the dark stairwell, his lips brushed her brow, and he whispered her name over and over, to no avail.

  The housekeeper charged ahead and opened the door to the guest chamber she’d been given, and he heard two little voices cry out Edith’s name.

  He winced at their shocked expressions as he passed over the threshold. The pair fell silent, eyes wide as Sidney placed Edith on the bed and straightened her limbs. He made her as comfortable as he could, covered her with a thick comforter, and then stepped back, unsure of what else to do.

  The eldest girl came forward, staring at Edith with tears in her eyes. “Did he have to kill her?”

  “Who?”

  “Loftus,” the other one said quietly, and then sobbed.

  “No. Oh, no. Edith is not dead. I promise she will be fine soon.”

  The tears stopped, but the girls still looked worried.

  He distanced them from Edith and knelt before the pair. “Why would you think Loftus would kill her?”

  “Loftus always hurts us.” The younger’s lips quivered, and tears were about to be shed again.

  Sidney’s stomach clenched. “How did he hurt you?”

  “He pinches and calls us awful names.”

  After today, after all he’d overheard, he shouldn’t be surprised, but he was.

  The housekeeper gasped. “What does your sister say about that?”

  “She can’t know. He promised he’d hurt her even worse if we ever tattled.”

  Sidney’s anger rose. They were just children! Defenseless and pure. Two years ago, when they’d last seen Loftus, they’d been even younger. He would not allow Loftus to hurt them under his roof. Nor to hurt Edith again, either.

  The housekeeper cupped the children’s faces. “You are safe from your brother. Your sister is merely exhausted after your long journey. We must let her rest.”

  The pair looked at Sidney.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked and received a pair of nods. “I’m sure my housekeeper can do something about that.”

  The little one tugged on his sleeve. “What about Edith? She hasn’t eaten in days.”

  “She never eats,” the other added, pulling her sister away.

  The housekeeper sobbed.

  Sidney ground his teeth. That would explain why the woman was so light. She was depriving herself, so the younger pair never went hungry.

  The housekeeper took charge of the children. “Yes, I’ll take them down to the kitchen and let them stretch their legs. The maid can stay with Miss Dean while we’re gone.”

  “I should stay in case she needs—” he began, but the housekeeper held up her hand.

  “The female staff will keep a close eye on Miss Dean,” the housekeeper informed him. “It is not proper for you to remain in her chamber. But it’s you she should talk to when she wakes, and you will be sent for immediately. There will be decisions to make about where they will go and how they will get there. But first, let’s take care of them while we can.”

  That could take years and was far more time with Edith than he had ever planned for but, under the circumstances, perhaps it would be best to keep an eye on all of them overnight.

  If Loftus did not change his mind, Sidney would have to help Edith find a respectable place to live. He turned back to view Edith one more time. She was so pale, more fragile than he’d realized. He was more worried about her than ever. “Keep me informed.”

  Four

  Edith woke with a start, alone and in bed. The soft glow of light dancing upon the ceiling above her head. She moved her hands, scratched her nails against soft linen sheets, and let out a sigh as her memory returned.

  She had been disowned.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered the awful confrontation with her brother in Mr. West’s study. Not knowing how Loftus felt about them had been far better than the truth. He’d claimed never to have cared for her. Loftus denied them support and a home to live in. His decision was her worst nightmare come true.

  He’d never told her how he felt, but there had been times before Papa died when he’d rudely ignored her. Or arrived without warning so she couldn’t prepare the household properly, then leaving again without a word of goodbye.

  And at the funeral, he had not spoken to her directly. Merely gathered up Papa’s papers and ridden off while she’d been comforting their siblings.

  Loftus had been as upset over Papa’s death as she, and at the time she had believed that she and her sisters were the last thing on his mind. Yet she had expected him to come back to take charge of them and the estate. She had waited in vain for two whole years, in fact. Now she realized he had never intended to see them ever again.

  What he’d said about her mama had stung, and he was wrong about her. Mama and Papa had cared for each other dearly. She’d seen proof of that every day. The soft looks between them, the fond touches. The passionate kisses she’d stumbled upon them sharing and fled before being noticed.

  Edith closed her eyes and sighed at the memory of happier times. But their love was gone. Loftus’ had never existed. What was she to do now? She had no one, and the girls depended on her.

  “Edith? Are you awake?”

  Edith scrambled to sit up at the surprise of hearing a man’s voice and pulled the comforter that had been placed over her up to her chin for protection.

  It took her a moment to recognize Mr. West, despite having heard his voice before. Mr. West was alone with her, sitting in a chair near the fire as if he had the right to be there.

  She wet her lips nervously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you to wake,” he said, rising and moving to stand at the foot of the bed and leaning against the bedpost. He’d removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves and looked in need of a shave. “It’s been hours since you spoke to your brother, and I have grown worried about you.”

  She looked around suddenly as she realized it was a new day and she was in a strange bed. In Mr. West’s bed. “Is it a day since? I had hoped I’d dreamed that nightmare.”

  “No such luck.” Mr. West pursed his lips. “Tell me, what was the last thing you remember?”

  “Loftus disowning me. He said cruel things and stormed off.” She glanced at the bed beneath her, and the comforter she clung to. “How did I get here?”

  “I carried you. You did not faint, but you did not respond to anyone. The housekeeper recommended bed rest.”

  Edith closed her eyes. She had spent the night asleep in a rake’s home without realizing it. Her eyes widened. She was ruined. “My sisters?”

  “They are being well cared for by my housekeeper, and a pair of maids is attempting to keep up.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She still had her family. “And Loftus?”

  “Mr. Dean has not returned, and I’m glad.”

  “He’s your friend and⁠—”

  Mr. West’s expression turned angry. “My friends do not treat their families worse than a stray dog. My friends do not abuse their power by starving their dependents out of their home. We may be rakes, Edith, but we are men of honor in our own way.”

  She gulped in shock at his outrage. “I should never have come.”

  He moved to ring the bell. “The housekeeper with take care of you. You are to eat well and be with your sisters, who have missed you a great deal. We can discuss where you might go later.”

  She winced. There was no money in her pockets for a room at an inn, nor a home to go back to. The only acquaintances she had in the world were Mr. West and her poorer neighbors near the estate. None of her acquaintances there could afford to take in three more mouths to feed. They had been kind enough to her already, but they were not friends she could apply to for further charity.

  Mr. West drew closer. “Before I leave you, I have one question. Did your father’s will really not include any support for you and your sisters?”

  “I don’t know what was in the will, but he promised Loftus would provide for us.”

  Mr. West pulled a face. “It seems your father did not know his son’s character as well as he thought. I am sorry for that.”

  “Yes, I am too,” she agreed. “What will become of us now?” She said the last to herself, and then shook her head. Mr. West had been as much help as he could be already. She could not ask for more than one more night.

  He sighed. “We will speak later, Edith.”

  He turned away, but she called out to him, “Mr. West! The things he said about my mother were not true,” she promised. “My parents were very much in love.”

  “Oh, I know he lied about them,” he said. “As he has about many things. I had the honor of meeting your father long ago, when he came to settle your brother’s gambling debts. Your father spoke warmly of your mother, and she was charming and clearly doted on him,” he said with a quick smile. “Loftus is a fool to believe she, or her daughters, were the cause of any difficulties he now has.”

  Mr. West strode quickly from the room, leaving Edith relieved and rather flattered by his praise of her parents. She’d no idea Mr. West and Papa had ever met, although it explained why Sidney West had stirred himself to answer her letters.

  Edith’s two sisters rushed in next, followed by a maid.

  The girls flung themselves on her bed with a glad cry and hugged Edith so tight, she almost couldn’t breathe with their arms around her neck.

  “You slept all night,” Clare complained.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Edith promised.

  Diana kissed her cheek. “Mr. West was ever so concerned.”

  “He paced the hall outside your door all night, just like Papa used to do when Mama was feeling poorly,” Clare claimed.

  Edith could feel a blush warming her cheeks when Diana nodded. She’d become such an inconvenience to him and everyone. She glanced at the maid, unsure of her.

  “I’m Annie Niles, the new maid Mr. West employed. I’m to look after you particularly, Miss Dean,” Annie said, as she attempted to fluff the pillows behind Edith’s back.

  The housekeeper hurried in next. “Finally, some color in your cheeks, my dear Miss Dean. You’ve had me so worried, but none more than the master of the house.”

  “I am sorry to be a bother to anyone.”

  “Nonsense.” She chided. “It’s a pleasure to see he still knows how to play.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Mr. West played hopscotch with us,” Diana told her.

  Edith closed her eyes. Horrified to learn that her family had been even more of a bother to him. “You shouldn’t have bothered him.”

  “It was his idea.” The housekeeper chuckled. “He’s not so toplofty to deny himself a little harmless fun. Besides, he enjoyed their company, but now there’s a proper lady to play games with instead.”

  Edith disengaged her sisters from about her neck and went to lift the blankets so she could swing her feet to the floor. She had to take charge of her siblings, thank him, and apologize to Mr. West for the inconvenience and leave before the master of the house thought he could play games with her heart.

  But the room spun.

  The housekeeper guided her back to bed. “When did you last eat?”

  “I don’t remember,” she admitted.

  “That is what I feared. Well, there’ll be no talk of you leaving now for at least a week, I’m sure,” the housekeeper said. “I will speak to the master and explain what should be done.”

  “We cannot stay for an entire week!”

  “Why not? You’ll be much better looked after in here than out there in the cold.”

  “We would be imposing. I’ve already been trouble enough to him,” she whispered.

  “Has my master complained?”

  “Not in so many words.”