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to sleep,” Brayden said with a suspiciously tight voice.
    She could tell he was done listening, so she left his room with her heart heavy. Was she doing more harm than good with her sister’s children?  She honestly didn’t know, but she wouldn’t give up on either of them, even if she had to tell Brayden every single day for the rest of her life how much she loved him.
    They would all stop hurting so much — eventually. Today wasn’t going to be that day.
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Whitney didn’t see the extra shine on the newly polished marble floors, and before she knew it, her feet slipped out from beneath her, and a crack sounded as she landed hard.
    Tears sprang to her eyes, but with nearly inhuman restraint, she managed to push them back. She scooted backward against the wall and decided to stay put.
    “Are you okay?”
    Her head whipped up. Of course. It was the man who’d been making her feel unwelcome almost from the moment she’d entered the family home. Okay, home wasn’t quite the word, maybe estate, or whatever. Rich bastards.
    “I’m fine,” she said. “Go ahead and carry on.” She’d tried but failed to hide the pain laced in her voice.
    “Most people learn how to walk by the time they’re one,” Liam said, but he reached out a hand.
    She gasped. “You insult me and then offer to help me to my feet?”
    “A gentleman would never fail to assist a lady when he found her in difficult circumstances.”
    The sarcasm was oh too clear. He didn’t think of her as a lady at all. Screw him.
    “Well, since we both know I’m not a typical woman, and certainly not in your class — whatever that is — you’re free to be on your way.” She could do sarcasm too, though she was better at veiling it.
    But he just stood there with that same look of superiority, and she struggled to her feet. It seemed to take forever, and Liam, realizing she wasn’t going to accept his help, just stood there, damn his hide, looking down his nose at her.
    “My father would like to speak to you if you can follow me,” he said when the silence stretched on for what seemed an eternity.
    “I would love to see him,” she replied.
    “Right this way.”
    She made sure to stay by his side. None of this two-steps-behind-richer-than-sin-monarchs bullshit for her. She’d prefer to walk ahead, actually, but she had no idea where they were going until they approached the large ornate doors of what probably counted as the den —though who knew what these snooty people called it? No, it was probably the sitting room, because weren’t dens smaller? And this room wasn’t small. But it was still Whitney’s favorite room of the house, warm and cozy and with furniture that was actually comfortable. You couldn’t say that for most of the rest of the sad mansion.
    When she and Liam stepped inside, Whitney stopped in her tracks, because a large group of people were sitting and chatting, dressed to the nines. For just a moment she felt the smallest trace of insecurity as she stood there in her sweater and jeans. But that was until she reminded herself that these people now looking at her in a most disapproving way would be nothing but memories in a very short time. They could all lead their incredibly boring, proper lives, and she could enjoy her freedom.
    “Liam, where have you been hiding?” A woman looking to be in her mid-twenties rose quickly from her chair and rushed over. She gave Liam a chaste kiss and then returned to her seat, where she seemed to be holding court for the room full of people.
    “Alexandra, I’m sorry,” he said coolly. “I didn’t realize we had guests.”
    “How could you forget, darling? We’re supposed to be discussing the spring fundraiser.”
    His gaze flicked upward, but the move was almost imperceptible. “You know I don’t get involved with that sort of thing,” he said.
    “I thought things were different.” The woman’s whine grated on Whitney’s nerves. But this blue blood