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going to be able to put food on your table when you don’t have the money to buy it? Freddie hasn’t even been gone four months and you’ve already pawned the first of your mother’s jewels to get by.”
    She took a step backward. “How did you know?”
    He didn’t answer but raked his fingers through hair the color of deep, rich coffee. Before the waves fell back into place, he rubbed his head at his temples as if he did not feel well.
    “Why are you here?” she asked.
    “I have come to help you. Freddie was my best friend. I owe him.”
    “No, you don’t. Becca and I will find a way to survive without your help.”
    “I wish that were true.” He turned his head and focused his dark gaze on her. “Unless, of course, you intend to accept Lord Brentwood’s proposal?”
    “Not even as a last resort. I will take care of Becca on my own.”
    “There is only one way for you to accomplish that. Whether you want to or not, Lady Anne, you are going to have to marry in order to support your sister.”
    “No!” She pounded her fist against her skirt. “It seems I just had this same conversation with Lord Brentwood. I will tell you exactly what I told him. I have no intention of ever marrying. And I for certain have no intention of marrying you.”
    He arched his brows. “As I have no intention of marrying you, either.”
    Anne stopped. Her surprise was too great for her to continue.
    “No offense intended, my lady, but I would rather face a firing squad than take a wife. Even you.”
    His words could have offended her, if she didn’t feel the same. “Then what are you talking about?”
    “I am talking about taking you to London for a Season, and letting you select someone with whom to spend the rest of your life. Someone who can give you all the advantages that come with titled wealth. Someone of your own choosing.”
    She laughed. “Mr. Blackmoor, if I can’t afford to put food on our table without pawning some of our inheritance, I can assure you, I would have an even greater difficulty outfitting myself to attend months of endless balls and parties.”
    “I will provide whatever you need. I am not without funds—substantial funds. I will cover all your expenses while you are in London.”
    She stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”
    “Because it’s what Freddie would have wanted.”
    His words contained no emotion. They were issued with a definite lack of gentleness that shocked her. And yet there was a softness about him. Something special about the way he seemed. She’d noticed it when he walked into the room the day of Freddie’s funeral.
    There was something about the strength of his carriage, his hooded blue eyes, and the haunting depth of his sadness. Everything about him drew her to him, pulled at her. She wanted to comfort him, as if he hurt as much as she.
    “I do not want to marry.”
    “You said as much.”
    “Then why are you forcing this?”
    “Because you have no choice. At least my option gives you the opportunity to choose your own mate, perhaps even someone you will eventually come to love. Choosing your own husband will give you a chance at happiness.”
    “And if I am not willing to take the risk?”
    “You have to. Your sister cannot afford for you to be a coward. Even if you can be satisfied with a life so barren and lacking, are you willing to condemn Lady Rebecca to the same fate?”
    A piercing sharpness stabbed through her chest. “How dare you.”
    “I dare because I care what happens to you and your sister. Just as Freddie would care if he were here.” He fisted his hands at his side, then wiped the fingers of one hand across his brow to take away a thin film of perspiration.
    His complexion seemed paler than when he’d arrived, and when he raised his hand, it shook noticeably.
    “Are you all right?” she asked, fighting the urge to touch his forehead to check for fever.
    “I’m fine.” He stood beside her. “Brentwood will not stop his advances. Today was