After the scarlet fever, when Win couldn’t get out of bed for the longest time, and she was too weak to hold a book, she would just lie there and watch a birds’ nest on one of the tree limbs. She saw the baby swallows hatch and learn to fly. One day, she complained that the window was so dirty, she could barely see through it, and it made the sky l

To be wanted, needed, desired above all else … that would never happen to her.

Merripen emerged from a hallway leading away from the entrance room. He was in his shirtsleeves with no collar or cravat, the neck of the garment hanging open to reveal tanned skin gleaming with perspiration. With his black hair falling over his forehead, and his dark eyes smiling at the sight of them, Merripen cut a dashing figure.

The moment he had seen her standing in the alley, wholesome and pink cheeked, her voluptuous figure contained in a modest gown, he had wanted her. He had no idea why, when she was the embodiment of everything that annoyed him about Englishwomen.

“A man who wants trouble can find it anywhere.”

“Perhaps,” she said tentatively, “you should wait here while I—” “Not a chance in hell.” “He may be more responsive if I approach him by myself, just at first—” “He’s not in his right mind. You’re not going to face him without me.” “He’s my brother.” “And you’re my romni.”

“You’re a bully,” Win repeated, smiling into his dark face. “Yes, I know,” Merripen murmured, tucking the lap blankets around her with extreme care.

What about Win? She’ll need medical care—” “Don’t talk about her.” Merripen made his face expressionless, but not before Cam had seen a flash of extraordinary emotion, something ferocious and dark and tormented. Apparently, Cam thought wryly, not all of the Hathaways were like sisters to him.

St. Vincent followed his lead with a resigned shrug and a facile smile. “I suppose now I’m obliged to wish you happiness in your new life. Although happiness in the absence of indoor plumbing is a debatable concept.”