“Nicholas,” Sophia murmured, curling in his arms to face him. “I have a woman I would like you to meet.”
His nose traced her ear. “Hmm,” he murmured, distracted by her skin.
“She is a widow, and would like a gentleman caller. I thought, since we earn our way—”
“That I should do the same,” he finished. “You are right, of course.”
He wouldn’t have known she was tense if she hadn’t relaxed in his hold. “Thank you.”
He chuckled, kissing her shoulder. “You thought I wouldn’t? That I would continue to spend your money and refuse your johns? Janes?” he asked with a grin.
“Don’t call her that,” Sophia hissed. “Her name is Jane.”