She thought of their goodbye.

How he’d been this day, and in those final moments, were how she recalled him—smiling and affable and a friend to her, so that she’d ceased to feel the chill and found herself capable of nothing more than a silly grin.

“Uh-oh, with that smile, I daresay I should be worrying.”

Lettie gasped and looked to the doorway. “Rhys!” she squeaked. The teacup rattled in her hands, sending several droplets pinging over the rim. She hurriedly set it down.

Her elder brother came forward.

Then his words registered, and she felt heat slap at her cheeks. He knew. He knew she’d been having romantic thoughts like the debutante she certainly wasn’t. And given the nature of her recent visit, he would likely piece together who was at the center of those musings.

“What mischief is rolling through your head now?” he said when he reached her.

Mischief?

He thought she’d been thinking mischievous thoughts, rather than woolgathering over a gentleman. At that, a gentleman who’d been his best friend.

That sobering thought brought her back to the moment and her reason for being here.

He frowned. “Uh-oh,” he repeated in more solemn tones. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she hurried to reassure him and then motioned for him to sit.

“Nothing?” he drawled. “You sent word informing me I was not to go out and to make sure I was present for your visit today.”

Guilt swarmed her. “How is Alice?”

“She is resting.”

She frowned. Alice never rested. Alice was as much a bundle of energy as Lettie herself, mayhap even more so. “Is she all right?”

“She is fine,” he assured.

“You’re certain?” She rang her hands together. “I am the worst friend. I—”

“She’s fine.” Her brother smiled, a soft, slightly silly smile that gave her pause.

She knew that look. It was The Look, as she’d come to call it over the years. It was the one he and Alice wore whenever they shared news that they were expecting.

“Another babe?” she ventured, and her brother gave a nod of confirmation. This would be their fifth.

A shameful envy sluiced through her heart.

“I am ever so happy for you both,” she said softly, and she was.

Despite the twinge of envy. All right, more than a twinge.

“Is Alice…?”

“She is quite well. Fatigued, as she often is when expecting.” Her brother waved his hand. “What is the matter of urgency that required me to not leave my townhouse until you came?” He scowled. “Is Mother giving you a difficult time? Because—”

“No,” she said, then paused. “At least, not any more than usual.”

They shared a commiserative smile.

“So, what is it, imp?” he asked, folding his leg and resting his booted foot across his opposite knee.

Her mind went black.