“What?” Kathleen burst out, fury pumping through her. Why hadn’t Devon mentioned anything about it to her? He must have known that she would object.

As a matter of fact, she objected with every bone in her body. Winterborne wasn’t right for Helen in any regard. Anyone could see that. Marrying him would require her to fit into a life that was completely foreign to her.

The William Tell Overture floated around the room with ghastly cheerfulness.

“Absolutely not,” Kathleen snapped at Devon. “Tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

“It’s up to Helen to decide what she wants,” he said calmly. “Not you.” With that obdurate set of his jaw, he looked exactly like the arrogant ass he had been the first time they’d met.

“What has Winterborne promised you?” she demanded. “What does the estate stand to gain if he marries Helen?”

His eyes were hard. “We’ll discuss it in private. There’s a study on the main floor.”

As Helen moved to join them, Kathleen stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. “Darling,” she said urgently, “please let me speak to Lord Trenear first. There are private things I must ask him. You and I will talk afterward. Please.”

Helen contemplated her without blinking, her singular eyes pale and light-tricked. When she spoke, her voice was temperate and level. “Before anything is discussed, I want to make something clear. I trust and love you as my own sister, dearest Kathleen, and I know you feel the same about me. But I believe I view my own situation more pragmatically than you do.” Her gaze lifted to Devon’s face as she continued. “If Mr. Winterborne does intend to offer for me… it’s not something I could dismiss lightly.”

Not trusting herself to reply, Kathleen swallowed back her outrage. She considered attempting a smile, but her face was too stiff. She settled for patting Helen’s arm.

Turning on her heel, she left the drawing room, while Devon followed.

Chapter 29

It was West’s misfortune to have gone to the study at the same time that Kathleen and Devon went there to do battle.

“What’s happening?” West asked, glancing from one set face to the other.

“Helen and Winterborne,” Devon said succinctly.

Glancing at Kathleen’s accusing face, West winced and tugged at his necktie. “There’s no need for me to take part in the discussion, is there?”

“Did you know about the courtship?” Kathleen demanded.

“Might have,” he muttered.

“Then yes, you will stay and explain why you didn’t talk him out of this appalling idea.”

West looked indignant. “When have I ever been able to talk either of you out of anything?”

Kathleen turned to glare at Devon. “If you truly intend to do this to Helen, then you’re as cold-hearted as I first thought you were.”

“Do what? Help to secure a match that will give her wealth, status in society, and a family of her own?”

“Status in his society, not ours. You know quite well that the peerage will say she’s lowered herself.”

“Most of the people who will say that are the same ones who would refuse to touch her with a barge pole if she decided to take part in the season.” Devon went to the fireplace and braced his hands on the marble mantel. Firelight played over his face and dark hair. “I’m aware that this isn’t an ideal match for Helen. But Winterborne isn’t as objectionable as you’ve made him out to be. Helen may even come to love him in time.”

“Given enough time,” she said scornfully, “Helen could convince herself to love a plague-infested rat or a toothless leper. That doesn’t mean she should marry him.”

“I’m positive that Helen would never marry a rat,” West said.

Devon picked up a fire iron and poked at the blaze on the grate, stirring up a storm of dancing sparks. “Until now, Helen never had a chance of making any kind of match.” He sent Kathleen a hard glance over his shoulder. “What you seem unwilling to accept is that no gentleman of stature is going to choose a future of poverty with a girl he loves over wealth with a girl he merely tolerates.”

“There might be a few.” At his derisive glance, she said defensively, “There might be one. Why can’t we allow Helen a chance to find him?”

West broke in. “That would mean giving up any possibility of marrying Winterborne. And then if Helen doesn’t succeed in bringing someone up to scratch during the season, she’ll have nothing.”

“In that case, she can live with me,” Kathleen said. “I’ll find a cottage in the country, where she and I will live off the income from my jointure.”

Turning from the fireplace, Devon gave her a narrow-eyed glance. “How do I fit into your future plans?”

A hostile silence followed.

“I really don’t think I should be here,” West said to the ceiling.

“You’re able to take care of yourself,” Kathleen told Devon. “Helen can’t. She’ll have no protection against Winterborne, if he should mistreat her.”

“Of course she will. West and I will always protect her.”

“You should be protecting her now.”

West stood and strode to the door. “Is this what it’s like to have a family?” he asked irritably. “Endless arguing, and talking about feelings from dawn to dusk? When the devil can I do as I please and not have to account to a half-dozen people for it?”

“When you live alone on an island with a single palm tree and a coconut,” Kathleen snapped. “And even then, I’m sure you would find the coconut far too demanding.”

West regarded them both sourly. “I’ve had enough of this. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a tavern where I can pay an underdressed woman to sit in my lap and look very pleased with me while I drink heavily.”

As he left, he closed the study door with unnecessary force.

Folding her arms across her chest, Kathleen glowered at Devon. “Helen will never admit what she wants. She’s spent her entire life trying not to be a bother to anyone. She’d marry the devil himself if she thought it would help the family – and she’s well aware that Eversby Priory would stand to benefit.”

“She’s not a child. She’s a woman of one-and-twenty. Perhaps you didn’t notice just now that she behaved with far more composure than you or I.” On a callous note, he added gently, “And although it might surprise you, a lifetime of living under your thumb may not appeal to her.”