And when she was thinking of them—of Minerva House—she was not thinking of all that she had never had an opportunity to experience.

All the things she would have deserved—would have had—if she were born to a different earl.

No.

“It is not a sacrifice to continue Minerva House,” she said finally, the words almost too quiet to be heard on the wind. “I would repair a hundred roofs to make sure this one held above the girls’ heads.”

Jane quirked a smile. “Need I remind you that you are not alone atop this house? I shall never be able to remove the smell of this muck from my person.”

“Well then, we shall stink together.” Isabel laughed.

“Your lord shan’t enjoy that.”

Isabel did not pretend to misunderstand. “He is not my lord.”

“Gwen and Lara would have it differently.”

Isabel’s brows snapped together. “Gwen and Lara have cowslips between their ears. I won’t be thrust at him, Jane. You might as well tell them as much.”

Jane laughed then, the sound musical and merry. “You think I hold more sway than that ridiculous magazine?”

“I think you should,” Isabel said with a sigh. “He is only here for two weeks. All I need do is keep the girls from the statuary.”

“And what of you, Lady He-Is-Not-My-Lord?”

Isabel ignored Jane’s teasing, a vision of Lord Nicholas’s handsome face flashing. The way his teeth flashed white against his sun-warmed skin, how his full, soft lips turned upward in bold, promising smiles. The way his blue eyes tempted her to tell him everything.

He was very dangerous, indeed.

“I shall do the same. It shan’t be that difficult. After all, I have a roof to repair.”

The words were barely out of Isabel’s mouth when a familiar masculine voice sounded. “I should have guessed I would find you here.”

Isabel’s heart leapt into her throat at the words. Eyes filled with dread, Isabel looked to Jane, who immediately put her head down, as any good servant would, focusing entirely on the task at hand.

She was on her own, or they were discovered. With little other option, she turned to Lord Nicholas, who was climbing out of the attic window.

Who had let him up here?

She watched as one enormous Hessian boot took a tentative step toward her, landing precariously on the clay tile.

If the man wasn’t careful, he’d damage more of the damned roof.

“Wait!”

To his credit, he waited.

“I—” Isabel looked to Jane, who shook her head in a manner indicating that she would be absolutely no help, then pressed on. “I shall come to you, my lord!” Scrambling to her feet, she scurried across the roof as carefully as possible. When she reached him, she smiled a too-bright smile.

Which he did not return.

“My lord! What brings you to the roof? Was there something that you needed? ”

“No,” he said, the one syllable drawn out into many as he raked his gaze over her, taking in her attire.

Dear God. She was dressed in men’s clothing. Not at all the thing. Of course, ladies on roofs were not precisely the thing, either. Nonetheless, her attire was a problem. And leaping from the roof seemed like a not so sound solution. She’d simply have to brazen it through.

She crossed her arms over her br**sts, ignoring the flood of heat that spread over her cheeks. “I was not expecting you to join me, Lord Nicholas,” she said pointedly.

“I can see that. Although I do admit a modicum of surprise that you would dress so in front of your servants.” He indicated Jane, who remained head down, setting a roof tile.

“Oh.” How was she going to escape this? “Yes. Well. Jan—” Careful, Isabel. “Janney has been with the family for many years. He is aware of all of my—eccentricities.” She laughed, wincing at the sound, loud and uncomfortable.

“I see.” His tone said he did not, in fact, see.

“Shall we go inside? Perhaps you would like some tea? “ she said quickly, as though she could rush him off the roof, out of the house, and, indeed, out of Yorkshire. “No, I don’t think so.”

“My lord?”

“I should like to see this roof that has so captured your attention.”

“I—Oh.”

Was it she? Or did he seem pleased with her discomfort?

“Will you give me a tour of the repair site, my lady?”

He was most definitely teasing her.

He was a wretched man. Not at all worthy of kissing.

“Certainly.” Isabel turned to Jane—she had to get the other woman off the roof. “That is enough for today, Janney. You may go.”

Jane was up like a shot, heading for the attic window like it was salvation itself.

Which, of course, it was.

But as she passed them, St. John stayed her with “You should be more protective of your mistress.”

Jane paused, head down, and nodded once.

“I see you take my meaning.”

Isabel held her breath for a long moment, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, she said, “That is all, Janney,” and Jane scrambled through the window, disappearing into the attic.

Watching her disappear, Isabel considered her options. While she had never received formal training in deportment and proper conversation, she was fairly certain that roofs were not appropriate locales for conversations between members of the opposite sex.

“I do not like you on the roof.”

The words, so imperious, as though she were placed on the earth at his whim, took Isabel aback. She met his gaze, and took pleasure in matching his irritation with her own. It wasn’t as if she’d asked him to join her up here, for goodness’ sake. “Well, considering it is both my roof and my person … I do not see how my location impacts your life in the slightest.”