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“I always thought it was a useful skill,” Amelia confessed, “I just never understood why it was only taught to boys. I feel that women would have more need of it.”

Dominic’s brow drew up as he tilted his chin to look at her face, and saw that her expression was contemplative.

“Why so?” He asked, flexing her wrist gently up and down.

“Because more women are attacked by men than men are” she answered. “Because we have to protect our virtue while men are encouraged to give it away. Because sometimes- too many times- the men who supposedly protect us try to force it from us. When they are successful, even when they are not, it is women who are considered tarnished. Yet are punished by society if we fight back.”

Dominic frowned at the emotionless, matter-of-fact way Amelia described her reasons. He couldn’t combat a single one of them because he knew it all to be true.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said, placing her right hand back into her lap before picking up her left, “Perhaps it is a skill better served by women.”

“You have no idea how much I wish could go back in time to use this skill,” Amelia replied, her tone suddenly thick.

Dominic slowed his unwrapping of her left wrist and looked at her again. Sadness had started to bleed into her far-off gaze.

“What would you do if you could?” He asked, his voice gentle.

“I would deliver a sharp blow to Roland the moment he’d tried to force me,” she replied viciously. “I wouldn’t have been afraid to either, because I would have known what to do. And my father- I would have beaten his head in the night he brought me to that auction.”

Sympathy poured through Dominic as he pulled away the second wrap and repeated the massage on her wrist. There was so much fury in her voice. So much pain. He’d taught her how to turn that into power, but still, the urge to do something about her discomfort was overwhelming him.

“Roland is gone and your father holds no power over you now,” he told her, his thumbs moving in firm but gentle circles over her wrists. “And if he is foolish enough to try to regain it, I assure yousomeonewill certainly beat his head in.”

He was hoping for a smile, but Amelia’s frown only deepened as she shook her head.

“It is not me I am worried for any longer. It is my sisters. He wants to be rid of them already. Whatever money troubles he’s facing, he’s taking it out on them.”

“We will not let that happen,” Dominic replied quickly, his tone gruffer than intended.

Amelia’s eyes snapped back to his, those honey-gold orbs swirling with pain and disgust.

“What can we do?” She asked, her tone accusing. “If we took them he could accuse us of abduction. Even if we explained to the constables that it was for the girls’ protection the law still states that they are owned by their father until he signs them off to a husband.”

Dominic thought for a moment. He’d known since their wedding day that Amelia’s sisters were important to her, but he’d been so busy with carrying on his own life that he hadn’t truly given them a thought more than that.

“I will speak with my people,” he answered finally. “See what we can do. Since your father is so driven by money, perhaps I could even purchase them.”

“They will not be sold!” Amelia shot back, pulling her hand away from his.

She looked at him with narrowed, distrusting eyes; as if ready to run away from him at any second.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Dominic said patiently, holding her gaze. “I am saying that if money will incentivize him to hand over parental rights to you, then we should consider it. They would not be my property just as you are not my property.”

“That’s not what you said this morning,” she hissed back.

“I meant that you are myresponsibility,Amelia,” he retorted just as quickly. “And I am certainly notyourenemy here.”

Guilt flashed through Amelia’s eyes her brows dipped and her plump lips pressed tightly together.

“I know that,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Although he’d been greatly annoyed at her confidence from the morning’s dance lesson, Dominic suddenly craved it. He’d rather her be haughty and difficult with him than so despondent.

“All right,” he sighed, rising to his feet. “I shall do it.”

Amelia looked up at him in confusion as walked toward the door.

“Do what?” She asked.