Not a school teacher or thug. Lovely, lovely. He was swimming in his sweat now. Where on earth had this woman come from!?

… Had Uriel and Menachem gone to see her at the brothel? Maybe Uriel was already having love problems. What if she went after Uriel with ill intent, too? He would deserve it, if only a little … but he was his brother.

The urge to offer Menachem as a sacrifice volunteer was strong, but she had already dismissed that. Hmph.

He steeled himself and tipped his chin up.

“Anything?” he said shortly, smiling. “At the very least, a proper courtship period. You realize, too, that you compromise our standard of living if you estrange us from the Carringtons, do you not?”

He reached out and guided the handkerchief at her face, dabbing unsightly smudges from her tears.

“No wife of mine will be a shrinking violet, running from her problems,” he murmured back in a perfectly pleasant tone, only his eyes hinting at the true rage of being backed into this corner. “I expect the full benefits of forsaking a reputable life and marrying a rich. Whore killer’s. Pregnant, widow.”