Frustration punctuated his mood as he slammed the door shut. Just as quickly, he masked the anger. “When the driver returns, we’ll go back to Falkirk, and I’ll make arrangements for your belongings to be brought there. You may stay in one of the guest rooms until I’ve located your brother.”

He was treating her like a lost dog, separated from its master. She resented his insinuation that Daniel was incapable of being head of the family. Her brother was doing everything he could to restore their fortunes. And were it not for the shadow of scandal over her family name, she might have tried to find a husband to relieve Daniel’s burden of supporting her.

Who would marry a woman like you? her common sense argued. You don’t even know how a baron’s daughter is supposed to behave in society. You’ve never been to a single ball.

“Don’t trouble yourself about me,” she told the earl. “Daniel will be returning here, soon enough. He asked me to look after the estate.”

“This is unacceptable. He was irresponsible to ask such a thing of you.” His tone was clipped and revealed his fury at her brother.

“I did what I could, with what little money he left me.” Her own mood was growing waspish. Whitmore wasn’t behaving like a prince rescuing her from drudgery—he was bullying her into leaving her home behind while he took command of her life.

Squaring her shoulders, she faced him down. “I’m staying right here.”

“Your brother never should have left you here with no servants.”

“Daniel doesn’t know.” The confession escaped her before she could stop the words.

Whitmore walked closer to her, his intense scrutiny unreadable. Emily felt rather like a deer cornered by a wolf. In the shadowed darkness, he caught her wrist gently. “What do you mean, he doesn't know?”

“I had to dismiss the servants. There wasn’t enough money to pay them.”

His gaze widened with horror. “It’s dangerous for a woman to live alone.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I enjoy living in this place, wondering whether or not I’ll get any money from Daniel to pay for food? I’ve sold off everything I could. But I just…don’t know what to do now. If our circumstances don’t improve, I’ll hire myself out as a cook.” She couldn’t become a governess, for her education wasn’t nearly good enough.

Stephen removed one glove and brought his hand up to touch her face. The warmth of his palm, the gentle caress, made her legs go weak. His other arm came around her waist, and despite the snow, she didn’t feel cold at all.

“You should let someone else take care of you,” he murmured.