In for a Penny by Rose Lerner Page B

she was your type, didn’t I?”
    Nev nodded.
    “I daresay she’s thrilled. A brewer’s daughter generally has to settle for the old, ugly earls, never mind how pretty she is, and instead she gets you, handsome and young and charming and foolish enough to believe you’re a bad bargain.”
    Nev looked up at Amy, remembering her wistfulness when she’d said Wouldn’t me mum have liked to lord it in a fine house in Russell Square? It was in her voice again. He didn’t understand it at first, but she thought he had, and she answered the question she thought he was asking.
    “No, I never thought for a second you’d marry me, Nev. I wasn’t dropped on my head as a baby. But a girl can’t stop herself wishing it every so often, can she?” She smiled ruefully at him. “Even if you wanted me, I wouldn’t have you now you’re penniless. Don’t worry about me, Nev. I’ll be fine. I do hope you’ll be happy.”
    “I hope so too.” Nev was relieved that the awkwardness seemed to be over. “Listen, Amy, I wanted to buy you a pretty diamond bracelet or something for a good-bye present, but I thought—well, I thought maybe the money would be more useful. Your rent’s paid to the end of the quarter, and—I brought you a hundred and fifty pounds.”
    She looked at the money as he counted it out of his pocket. “How very practical of you,” she said with a smile. “I suppose you’ve learned this week how hard it is to sell pretty diamond bracelets for what you paid for them. Thank you, Nev.”
    He smiled back at her.
    “Did her father give you an advance?”
    He shook his head. “I sold Tristram.”
    Her mouth flew open. “Oh, Nev! Not Tristram! He was your favorite horse!”
    “Second favorite. I kept Palomides.”
    She sighed. “I can’t believe you sold Tristram to pay my rent. But I suppose you couldn’t soil the future Countess of Bedlow by using her money to pay off a girl like me.” She looked at him. “I did make you happy, Nev, didn’t I?”
    He nodded.
    She swallowed hard. “Well, thank you, Nev. It’s been a good year. Would you like to stay to lunch?”
    He shook his head.
    She stood and held out her hand—not palm-down to be kissed, but sideways to be shaken, just as Mr. Brown had at the conclusion of their negotiations. He shook her hand; she showed him to the door. “Good-bye, Nev. Look me up if you change your mind.”
    Thirkell beamed. “Congratulations! Bring on the champagne! Who’s the lucky girl?”
    “No champagne,” Nev said.
    Percy looked as if he understood a little better. “An heiress?”
    Nev nodded. “Miss Brown.”
    “Brandy, then.” Percy strode to the decanter and took out the stopper. Nev could smell the brandy, and he wanted it; he wanted something that would burn as it went down, burn away the worry and the confusion and the sad look on Amy’s face. It smelled like a sickly sweet promise of heaven.
    “No brandy either,” he said with difficulty.
    Percy raised his eyebrows. “Nev, you’ve done nothing but mope since Lord Bedlow died. You’re wound tight as a spring, and you need to relax. Now have a glass of brandy and then we’ll go out and have some fun, forget about all this for a few hours, and in the morning things won’t seem so bad.”
    Percy was right, Nev thought. What could it hurt? A fewglasses of brandy, a few games of cards, a few hours when he wasn’t thinking about Louisa turning shabby-genteel or the look of politely hidden disapproval on Miss Brown’s face. He deserved that, didn’t he, after the past few weeks? Percy was already pouring the glass; Nev held out his hand.
    “Yes, come on, Nev,” Thirkell said. “Perhaps you’ll have a run of luck and you can call the whole thing off!”
    Nev plucked the decanter out of Percy’s hand and stoppered it. “Yes.” He hardly recognized his own voice. “I suppose that’s what my father kept telling himself too.”
    Percy gave Thirkell a sharp glance. “Thirkell didn’t mean that,