She had forgotten all that in the misery of her embarrassment, which was still another reason why they should leave the baron’s house. He simply filled her mind too much, to the exclusion of all else.

She could wait at least another week, though, for her brother’s full recovery. But in the meantime, she could find an auction house that would assist her in disposing of the more valuable furnishings, and a jeweler who would offer her a fair price for her mother’s pearls. She could no longer depend on her father coming home to make everything right again for them, when she had finally admitted to herself that he might never be coming home.

She was also going to have to obtain employment to support herself and Thomas. Their father’s numerous assets were going to be denied them until he was officially declared . . . She couldn’t say it, even in thought. But she had no idea how long that would take.

A quick glance out the window reminded her that it was rather late to get started on all of that today, nor was it a pleasant day to be walking about London, when the snow that had begun to fall last night continued to appear periodically. The last thing she needed was to catch a cold and end up confined to a bed herself. In the morning, then—if she could manage a normal night’s sleep.

She made haste now to leave the baron’s presence. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll leave you to your reading now. And thank you for thinking of the locks.”

“Don’t go.”

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

IT WAS JOLTING, HEARING THAT “DON’T GO” FROM Lord Everett, particularly since Larissa had just been thinking about leaving his house. It took a moment to realize he meant for her not to leave his study, rather than his house. It still had sounded plaintive, his tone, almost desperate, which was why it had been so jarring to her.

He was lonely. She was sure of that now. It shouldn’t bother her, though. He was nothing to her, after all; no, worse, he was a despicable, evicting landlord. Unfortunately, her heart, soft as it was, ignored that. It did bother her that he was lonely; it went right to the core of her compassionate nature.

She glanced back at him, raised a questioning brow to force him to elaborate. That seemed to confound him. He needed a reason to keep her there, but apparently didn’t have one handy. His request had been impulsive, and had revealed too much of himself. She took pity and moved toward the window, giving him more time to find his “reason.”