“Always such a good boy.”

Nev rolled his eyes. “I was never a good boy, Mama. Yes, that’s right, hold on to the rail.”

“You were always my favorite, Nate.” There was still a smile in her voice.

Nev almost dropped her. Instead, he said, “Hush, Mama,” and got her down the carriage steps. Louisa climbed down without waiting for his help.

“Louisa-” All summer he had ignored his mother’s treatment of her. No wonder she was miserable at home and desperate to get away. No wonder she resented them all.

Louisa sighed. “Come, Nate, it’s nothing we didn’t all know before.” Her smile was resigned. “It’s all right. You were always my favorite too.”

“You’re coming to live with us,” he said fiercely. “Start packing your things. You can move into the Grange tomorrow.”

“I-you needn’t-” She sniffled. “Oh, Nate!” She threw herself at him. He hugged her tightly with the arm that wasn’t supporting their somnolent mother. “I’m so sorry for everything! I hope-I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course I can.” He was surprised to find it was true. “You’re my little sister, aren’t you? Everything will come right, you’ll see.”

“I hope you still feel that way tomorrow.”

“I’m not drunk. I know I haven’t been a perfect brother, but I’m not so fickle as all that.”

She hugged him again. “I do love you, Nate.” There was a catch in her voice. “Come along, Mama,” she said with weary affection, taking their mother’s arm. “Let’s get you inside.” Nev watched to make sure they got safely through the door before climbing back into the carriage.

“Your family gives me a headache,” Penelope said.

“Penelope!” Edward hissed.

“They give me a headache too.” Nev took his seat again, feeling a moment’s triumph when Penelope immediately leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Actually, maybe it’s my hairpins that are giving me the headache.”

“We’ll be home soon.”

Penelope shrugged, sat up, and began pulling out her hairpins.

If they had been alone he would have let her, but they weren’t. Even so, it was several seconds before he could bring himself to speak. “Penny, sweetheart, don’t.” He reached for her hands.

She stopped, looking stricken. “Oh, God, am I acting vulgar? I can’t tell anymore. I don’t want to embarrass you, Nev.”

“This is dreadful,” Edward said in a low voice.

“This is your fault for not making her eat something like I told you to!” Nev turned back to Penelope. “You’re not acting vulgar, sweetheart. You know I love your hair.” He reached out and tugged on a sleek brown lock that had fallen over her ear. “But if you take all your hairpins out, you’ll lose them.”

Penelope smiled. “Do you really like my hair?”

“I adore it.”

She sighed contentedly. “I love your hair too.”

Nev swallowed hard. She had told him that once before, after he had pleasured her for the first time with his mouth. He remembered clearly the heat of her naked thigh against his cheek and her fingers in his hair, and he wished Macaulay at the devil.

“It’s like cinnamon,” she said dreamily.

Nev glanced at Macaulay and saw only his rigid profile as he stared out the window. Unexpectedly, he felt sorry for the man. It was impossible to be jealous when they were almost to the Grange, and then Macaulay would go to his room alone and Penelope would come with Nev. “Hush, Penny. You’re making Edward blush.”

“I’m sorry,” she said at once, and was silent until they were standing in the hall at the Grange.

“Good night.” Macaulay turned away.

“Good night, Edward.” Penelope pulled away from Nev to stand on tiptoe and kiss Macaulay’s cheek. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You’re my very dearest friend and I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

He smiled sadly down at her. “I’m not angry with you, Penelope. You’re my dearest friend too and-I hope you shall be very happy,” he finished roughly. “Good night.” He looked into her face for another moment, then hurried off.

Penelope turned and saw Nev watching her. “Edward is stuffy,” she said, “but he loves me.”

“I know.” He hesitated. He had been waiting impatiently for this moment, but it seemed crass to simply take her in his arms as soon as Macaulay was out of sight.

Then it didn’t matter; Penelope stepped toward him and put her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”

He obeyed her. She tasted like brandy. He pulled her hairpins out by feel, her hair tumbling down around his fingers as he kissed her.

“Upstairs,” she murmured against his mouth, and he picked her up so he could walk and hold her at the same time. “No Sir Jasper this time.”

He remembered carrying her over the threshold, muddy and laughing, the day he had made her his. It seemed so long ago. They had been so uncertain and so easily cowed. “No. Not this time.”

“Sir Jasper doesn’t like me.”

“No, he doesn’t. I can’t think why.”

“He keeps talking to me about Miss Wray, and I think he thinks I’m having an affair with Mr. Garrett.”

“He what?” Was that why Sir Jasper had let Percy stay at Greygloss? Why would he do that?

“Well, I might be wrong. But Louisa was telling me not to have an affair, and Sir Jasper heard her and he said-”

“Louisa told you not to have an affair?”

“She was suspicious of Edward,” Penelope confided. “And I felt guilty because I hadn’t told him no, and I made things worse. And then she told me what you said, and the truth is-” She looked at him with sudden decision. “The truth is that-”

She was going to tell him everything, just as he’d always wanted her to. And she was going to do it because she was drunk. “Penelope, stop. Tell me in the morning.”

“I thought you wanted to know. I thought you wanted to know how I really felt.”

“I do. I do, more than anything. But tell me in the morning.”

“All right. I never knew being foxed was so pleasant. Why on earth did you give it up?”

Somehow it was easier to say it when Penelope was soft and slow and heavy in his arms and the house was dark. “My father was drunk. He was drunk and he got his brains blown out. I’m not going to do that to you.”

“Oh, Nev,” she said sadly. “You would never do that to me anyway.”

“Before I met you I was drunk almost every night. I was a good-for-nothing. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

She sighed. “Mr. Garrett said you could not compromise. Because you studied Latin. I told him it was stuff, but maybe I was wrong.”

They were at his door. Nev opened it with his foot and set her down on the bed. “What do you mean?”

“You can drink a little.” She smiled as if she were pointing out the obvious. “And play cards a little.” She fell back on the bed, bouncing slightly. He watched her breasts and hips through the layers of muslin.

“I’m afraid. I’m afraid that if I start I won’t be able to stop.” Afraid was an understatement. He was terrified that the person he had become over the last few months was an illusion, who would vanish like words written in the sand when confronted with temptation. That his true self was the hard-drinking ne’er-do-well he’d been.

She frowned. “Let’s try an experiment. You’ll drink a glass of brandy, and then you’ll stop.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll probably be too drunk to make love to me, and I’ll cry.” She smiled lazily up at him from where she sprawled on the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a finger along her thigh. “I could make love to you now.” He let his finger slide over the juncture of her thighs.

She tilted her hips up. “Mm. Brandy first.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long.” He slid his finger up and down and watched her back arch.

“If you hurry…you can be done by the time…Molly takes my clothes off.” She closed her eyes.

“I like you just fine dressed like this.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I have a surprise for you. I-I hope you don’t laugh at me.”