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She’d address the situation with Father when she got home. She glanced at Micah. A grin crept up her cheek when she saw he slept with his face turned sideways against the seat and his mouth open.
    What a nice man. What an incredibly nice man . . .

    When Lydia arrived home, she let herself in quietly through the back entrance—the servants’ entrance, her father called it, although the only servant was a cleaning lady who came once a week to tidy up and do laundry.
    The light above the kitchen sink burned, and she pushed the off button, blanketing the room in darkness. She stood in the gray shadows, her mind playing over the suggestion Micah had made before he’d gotten out of the Hudson to enter the hotel. Shame washed over her. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself?
    She moved to the stairway in the dark, navigating the familiar surroundings easily even without light. Upstairs, she cracked open Nicky’s door and peered in, smiling fondly when she spotted his sweet face illuminated by the gentle glow of his nightlight. He lay on his back under a rumple of blankets, his battered teddy bear tucked under his arm. She tiptoed in, then leaned down to kiss his cheek and smooth the dark curls from his forehead. He stirred slightly, and she murmured, “Shhhh.” Instantly he quieted, pulling the bear closer, his eyelids quivering. After giving him one more kiss, she sneaked out, quietly closing the door behind her.
    Across the hall, the double doors leading to her parents’ suite were closed, but a thin band of light shone from the crack along the floor. She crossed to the doors and knocked lightly. Mother’s voice called, “Come in.”
    Lydia turned the crystal knob and entered. Both of her parents were awake, the bedside lamps on, books in their hands. Mother turned her book upside down in her lap and worried her lower lip with her teeth. Lydia crossed to the foot of the canopied bed and seated herself near her mother’s feet.
    â€œWe waited for you,” Father said gruffly. “Will he do it?”
    Lydia crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow sardonically. “You mean, will he marry me?”
    â€œThat’s what I mean.”
    â€œOf course not. Did you really expect him to?”
    Father slapped his book closed and plopped it on the marble-topped table next to his side of the bed. “So I brought him here for nothing.” His tone held disgust. “Couldn’t you have convinced him? Do you know how hard it was for me to track him down? It’s taken weeks. Now it’s all lost time.”
    Lydia placed her hand on her father’s foot. “Father, you can’t honestly believe Micah would be willing to marry a woman he doesn’t love and assume responsibility for a child who isn’t his, just because you want him to.”
    Father jerked his foot, his nightcap slipping sideways. “He could do worse. He’s a fool not to want Nicky—the boy is already crazy about him. And you love him. What more could he want?”
    Heat climbed her cheeks, and she fought the temptation to turn her face away. Instead she raised her chin in a silent challenge. “What makes you think I love Micah?”
    Father’s neck became mottled with color as Mother sent him a disapproving look. “I have my reasons.”
    â€œFather, you read my diaries, didn’t you?” Lydia was careful to keep resentment from her tone. She knew a reasonable front was the best offense with her father.
    Father cleared his throat, his thick brows coming together in a fierce scowl. But a hint of embarrassment glittered in his eyes. “How else was I to find a likely prospect? You don’t talk to your mother or me. And it was the best solution to keep that . . . that insane Pankin away from Nicky.”
    Lydia sighed. “Father, I understand why you did it. Truly, I do. And Micah does, too. But bringing him