He’d gambled their fortune away, drinking like a fish and developing a taste for more exotic forms of entertainment, ultimately succumbing to a heroin overdose two years ago and leaving Jessie alone.

Now she felt the weight of her title like a burden. After settling her brother’s impressive debts and paying off the last of her mother’s medical bills—bills her brother hadn’t thought to pay before indulging himself in liquor and drugs—Jessie had been left with little more than enough to pay the servants’ salaries before dismissing them. She’d written them all fine letters of reference and had tried to keep track of them long enough to make sure they all landed on their feet, securing employment with other titled or wealthy families. In all honesty, she hadn’t been able to, and it broke her heart that her staff—her real family, as far as she was concerned—were scattered all over Great Britain. Many of them had cried when they left. Jessie certainly had, because amidst the clusterfuck of illness and addiction surrounding her, the servants had been a better family to her than her own blood. The only servant she’d retained had been Liam.

Jessie slammed out of her chair, walked to her closet, and grabbed riding clothes carelessly off their hangers. She’d kept Liam, and it had been both the best and worst decision of her life.

She’d had to keep him, because he simply wouldn’t leave. He’d sat in her office, his arms crossed across his massive chest and his long legs stretched in front of him, booted feet planted firmly on the floor. Jessie remembered the butterflies in her stomach and the way her gut had clenched, and she had to admit it wasn’t just because she had to turn him away. She’d had a crush on him since he’d started working for her family, and it made her even more miserable to have to tell him she couldn’t afford to pay him any longer.

Jessie had tried to dismiss him, tried to explain that she could no longer afford to pay him his wages. He’d listened patiently, not batting an eye and smiling encouragingly when her voice faltered and her eyes welled up. It seemed to Jessie that Liam always smiled. His smile was like a ray of sunshine, and her life seemed to always be raining. Well, Jessie reminded herself with a snort, I do live in fricking England. It pretty much is always raining.

When she’d finished, she sat staring at her hands, waiting for him to get up and leave. He was the last of the servants she had to let go, and she had the hardest time saying good-bye to him. When he didn’t move so much as a muscle, Jessie looked back up at him and saw that he was watching her intently. And then he started to speak.

 

* * * *

 

“Why do you think you need to let me go?” Liam looked at Jessie curiously, his grey eyes grave with concern. His Scots burr always sounded so musical, his gravelly voice dripping over the syllables like honey.

Jessie drew a painful breath. This one was harder than the others, she assumed, because Liam had always looked out for her. And it didn’t hurt that he’d hated Christopher as much as she had at the end of her brother’s life.

“Lady Jessamy?” he prompted her, reminding her that she really had to do this.

“Liam, I’m sorry. I can’t afford to keep you on.” Jessie went for broke, figuring honesty was the only thing that would work with him. “Christopher burned through everything we have. Right now I have the manor and everything in it, but my reality is that I’ll have to sell some things—or everything—if I hope to survive. I have enough for myself, but I just can’t afford to keep anyone on. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Liam listened, his sensual mouth turning down at the corners. “Your brother spent everything?”

Jessie laughed bitterly, leaning back and running a hand through her long dark hair. “What he didn’t spend when he was alive has to be given to his creditors. He still owes a huge amount, and I need to pay it.”

Liam uncrossed his arms, leaning forward. “That bastard is still ruining you from the grave.”

Jessie sighed wearily.