"Where have you been?" Rebecca asked, when he finally appeared in the dining room.

"I was exploring the ruins. What is it?"

"It's an old abbey; it's been there forever. It was built on top of some Roman fort. Why did you go so far?" Rebecca frowned. She wanted to warn him to take care of his leg—he shouldn't roam so far from home, not yet, his limp was more pronounced when he came in just now than it was in the morning—but at the last moment, she arrested the words in her mouth. He might not take kindly to her interfering in his life.

Her sisters perked up. "Did you find anything interesting?" Emily's eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

"It's very picturesque," Alex said. "Mary, did you paint it? I think I remember something like that among your watercolors."

"Yes," Mary murmured. Her cheeks turned pink. "But only from the outside."

"Rebecca wouldn't let us go in there," Emily complained.

"She is right," Alex said. "Those ruins are not for young unaccompanied ladies. Lots of loose rocks there. In some places, I was amazed those walls are still standing. And I think a local family of foxes made their den there too. I glimpsed a fluffy red tail but only briefly. It didn't want to meet me. The ducks in the pond, however, didn't pay me any attention. I wouldn't recommend any of you to wander inside. One wrong step, and you might be severely injured, but I have a secret tool—my cane—so I was able to navigate."

The girls giggled, but Rebecca wouldn't have him make light of those hazardous ruins. "This is no joke," she said. "Last year, a boy from the village broke his leg there. They only found him two days later, and he still limps."

"I already limp." Alex shrugged.

Rebecca bit her lip. Did she offend him with her unthinking remark? She ventured a quick glance at him. No it didn't seem so.

His eyes sparkled impishly. "I understand the attraction though. For a boy, those ruins must be irresistible. So many pirates and bandits, dragons and battles could populate them. But you're right, Rebecca. A girl in a dress shouldn't venture there."

"Unfair," Emily said. "Boys have all the fun. I could dress as a boy too."

"Oh, I don't know." Alex made it look as if he was studying her. "I think you look much better dressed as a girl."

Emily preened, and even Mary smiled. Rebecca hid a grin. She hadn't made a mistake when she invited Alex yesterday to stay with them, although she wished it wasn't as a brother. Everything in him fascinated her: his capable hands with blunt fingers, his cool blue eyes that didn't miss anything, his disheveled hair, cut surprisingly short, and various other parts of him too, hidden as they were behind his clothing. She wanted to caress his brow and learn if his stubble was as scratchy as she had thought yesterday. She wanted to soothe his pain. He was too thin, his lean cheeks almost concave.

She loaded his plate with more mashed potatoes and another helping of meat loaf, and he didn't notice or acknowledge her service, just kept on eating with gusto. Was he suffering terribly from his war wounds? He didn't complain, and she couldn't tell from his manner—he joked and laughed with the girls and teased Mary in his gentle way—but the deep lines of suffering around his mouth bothered her.

"Mister Talbot also said we shouldn't go to the ruins," Emily said in reply to some of Alex's questions about the neighbors.

Rebecca opened her mouth to steer the conversation away from Nathan Talbot; for some reason, she didn't want Alex to know about him, but it was already too late.

"Who is Mister Talbot?" Alex asked.

"Becky's suitor," Emily said and wrinkled her pert little nose. "I don't like him. He's fat and he stinks."

"Oh." Alex glanced at Rebecca. "You have a suitor. Anything serious?"

She shook her head, glaring daggers at her youngest sister. "Not really."

"But you want to marry him," Mary said. "You told me he was filibustering. I used that word correctly, right?"

Rebecca blushed.

"Yes," Alex said. "Your meaning is perfectly clear, Mary."

"It's not settled," Rebecca mumbled. "The girls just have romance in their heads. Nathan Talbot is a friendly neighbor, nothing more."

Alex didn't press, and Rebecca was grateful for his reserve. Later, when the servants retired for the night and the girls went to bed too, she collapsed in the library. The day had been hectic, as most her days were, and the evenings were usually her time to relax. She would sit here for a few minutes, then finish her accounts, read a little, and go to bed. She opened her ledger and lifted a pen, when Alex opened the door and walked in.

"I need to talk to you," he said. "Who is Nathan Talbot? Should I know anything before I meet the man? I assume I'm going to meet him, right?"

"Nothing serious," Rebecca reiterated her earlier statement. "He was... dangling after me in the spring. I thought he would offer for me, but then he reconsidered. I suppose his mother reconsidered. She doesn't approve of me or the girls. She thinks we're not decorous enough, with no governess or even mother to guide us. To tell the truth, we never had money for a governess. And I don't have time to be decorous if I'm to run the estate successfully."

"One of those, a mother's little son," Alex said with a sneer.

"Nathan is not a bad man," Rebecca defended her choice. "He is just weak."

"Do you love him?"

"That's none of your business."

"It might be, if I'm to play your brother for any length of time. Do you wish to marry him?"

Rebecca sighed. She deserved that for pleading with him to impersonate her brother. She would have to tell the truth. "I don't have any other prospects," she said tonelessly. "Everybody around here knows I don't have a dowry. I'm already twenty-four. It seems that I have a choice: either Nathan or spinsterhood. I don't really know which one I prefer. No, I don't love Nathan, but I could've made it with him. If only his mother didn't interfere, I'd already have my own home. My sisters would have a home with me. I wouldn't have to rely on your playacting to get us to a safer patch. Do you think it's too mercenary of me?"

"No, Sophronia," Alex murmured. "You do what you have to do. You're just more honest about it than many others. Do you wish me to do anything about it?" He frowned, as if the words were distasteful to him. "Make an acquaintance? Hint at some upcoming inheritance? Charm his mother?"

"No!" Rebecca exclaimed, horrified at the suggestion. For Alex to promote her marriage to Nathan Talbot—it was unthinkable. She didn't really want to marry Nathan. She wanted to marry... someone else, but she was afraid to acknowledge the name even to herself. She had only known him for one day. Alex was her brother. Played her brother. She should think of him as a brother, if they had any hope to pull the scam off. He wasn't interested in her in that way either, was he? But when he touched her yesterday, kissed her hand, it felt so much better than Nathan's wet smacks ever had.

"I might've found a way out of our troubles, at least temporarily," Alex said, switching the topic, "but it all depends on what is in the estate register."

"What do you mean?" Rebecca asked eagerly. Anything was less depressing than talking about Nathan Talbot.

"This painting." He pointed behind her back. "The artist's name is Palonico. There is his signature in the corner, and you have another one by him in the dining room. He is pretty famous."

"Is he? I'm not surprised. I like both paintings."

"Are they part of the estate? I mean, is the artist's name mentioned anywhere?"

"No. The inventory says: 'two large landscapes.' Why?"

"You could sell both paintings, or maybe just one to start with, and live with the girls on the money for... several years, I think. The collectors might pay a very good price for these canvases. Palonico left very few paintings behind; most of his works were destroyed by the fire in his studio."

"But I can't sell from the estate."

"We can buy two large landscapes for much cheaper and put them on the walls in place of these two paintings, and nobody would know the difference. As long as the artist's name isn't mentioned. Think about it. What is one more lie, Sophronia? It's all in a good cause."

Rebecca picked up her ivory letter opener and fiddled with it. "How much money are you talking about?" she asked at last. Could it be the solution she was raking her brain for?

"I don't know. I talked to a collector a few years back, but it was on the continent. I think it might be a couple thousand pounds but I'm not sure."

Rebecca gasped. "So much?"

Alex grinned. "Yeah. Maybe more. We could end our brotherly charade pretty soon. I can go to London tomorrow, find out the prices for Palonico's paintings, and perhaps buy you a couple of cheap landscapes to replace these. As soon as one of them sells, you could announce to the world that your brother is dead and move out with the girls."

"It's going to rain tomorrow," Rebecca said.

"I know. I have a fool-proof barometer right here." Alex slapped his lame leg and winced.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said. She should've been overjoyed at Alex's proposed solution but she wasn't. She wanted him with her and the girls for a while longer, but perhaps the role of her brother chafed him too. Perhaps he was unhappy with the entire arrangement, already sorry he had agreed to her scheme, and searching for a quick way out. Her distress probably manifested on her face; she could never mask her feelings.

"Rebecca," he said softly. He climbed out of his armchair and limped to her desk. Bending over it, he brushed her forehead with his callused finger, as if trying to smooth a wrinkle. "Don't be upset. It's a good thing. We could still be friends, right?" His finger moved lower, from her temple to her cheek, and then hesitated at the corner of her mouth.

She was afraid to breathe, lest she would scare off the inquisitive finger. She gazed into his eyes. Before he could withdraw, she lifted her own hand to her face, and daring greatly, imprisoned his finger. It didn't struggle. Instead, Alex leaned farther and cupped her face with both hands.

"You don't mind us being friends, do you?" he whispered. His face was so close, she could see his freckles, almost invisible beneath the deep tan.

Rebecca couldn't utter a word. She just nodded, then shook her head, a bit confused which gesture was more appropriate, and tilted her head back, to give him a better access. Would he kiss her? Across her desk?

He did. It was a brief kiss, light and feathery. It skimmed over her lips, her cheek, her nose, and then he pulled back. Without thinking, she swayed forward, hating to lose their transitory connection, wanting to prolong the kiss, before she recollected herself and lurched back in her chair. Her ears burned. Her entire body seemed flushed and tingly.

His face was serious, but his eyes smiled. "Yes," he said. "I was wondering. Poor Nathan Talbot." He leaned on the desk with both hands, watching her.

Rebecca's heart beat like a small drum in her chest. "No," she said, unsure what she objected to. She definitely didn't pity Nathan Talbot. Her chubby former beau didn't have any place here, in this room, between Alex and herself.

"We need to end this soon," he said hoarsely, turned, and stomped back to his armchair. His cane seemed to strike the floor with unnecessary force. "Or someone will notice. I don't feel very brotherly towards you, indeed not at all." Without looking back, he reversed his course and headed for the door. "Good night, Rebecca," he said and was gone. The door clicked closed, but his cane kept thumping on the stairs.

"Oh, God!" Rebecca gasped. He hands flew to her flaming cheeks. She traced the line of his kisses with her own fingers and smiled. Yes, they should end this soon. Maybe then, they could be more than a brother and a sister. She didn't feel very sisterly towards him either. Of course, she wasn't much of a catch, she was twenty-four already, had two younger sisters and no money, but maybe she could hope.