Ethan leaned forward, poured her a cup of tea, and handed it to her. She offered him an appreciative nod. After pouring himself a cup, he turned to her. “Perhaps I must request that you tell me a little more about yourself, Miss Riverside.”

She quirked a brow, holding the tea cup before her.

“It is quite fascinating to find a young lady so far away from the comfort of her home and family. I assume you are American, are you not?”

She nodded. “I needed a job.” She shrugged, her words causing the tea cup to nearly empty its content on his breeches as he leaned forward sharply.

Excited, he placed the cup on the coffee table. “You do!” He proclaimed.

She nodded. “I journeyed all this way to take up employment in a dress shop, only to be turned away in the last minute.”

“I see... Perhaps I can offer you a job here, Miss Riverside, as Elizabeth's nanny?” He asked, hoping desperately that she would accept his offer. “I shall of course pay handsomely for your services.”

She sat silently before him, her gaze fixed on her cup.

Desperate, he continued, “I know Elizabeth is a handful, Miss Riverside, but I have already been through every nanny in London and I'm desperate. You also seem to understand her more than anybody ever has. I can admit to needing your help, as you must need a job.”

She released a soft sigh then. “Very well, Mr. Williams, I shall remain.”

“You shall?”

She nodded. “I need a job. I don't suppose staying shall be so terrible. Besides, I have nowhere else to go and Ellie needs me, what with her nannies running off on her and her own mother dumping her on the front stairs...”

Ethan stiffened at the mention of Juliet. He couldn’t possibly fathom how it was that a woman who was new to London had managed to hear of his misfortune within such a short period of time.

As if hearing his thoughts, she said, “The maid from this morning told me what happened,”

Nervous and most definitely not wanting to talk about Juliet, Ethan rose the tea cup to his lips in an attempt to hide the frown that was creasing his face.

“I’d like to pass it off as the mere chatter of a busybody who won't mind her business, but I can't help but think it might be true. Now, I don't mean to pry...”

He tightened his hold around the handle of the tea cup.

“...and I'm sure it must have been terrible to have had that done to you. I'm so sorry...”

Rage pumped through his veins like madness, forcing him to his feet as he faced her. He loathed her pity! It infuriated him to think that she felt the need to sit there and feel sorry for him. Perhaps wife ran off? But that was over a year ago! Didn't he at least deserve to have a civil conversation without her name being dragged from the drenches of his shattered heart?! —At tea parties! At balls! At every forsaken social gathering! In his own lousy home! Couldn't he go a second without the mention of his misfortune?!