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Although there was no way Tobias Dawson could have known it, Conor had admired his daughter Astrid for some time now.

The girl was irritatingly difficult to catch a glimpse of, though. Conor had seen her for the first time when he’d paid a visit to Dawson at his home, dropping off a book his solicitor had left behind at The Arc.

He had only seen her briefly, passing through the foyer on her way from one room to another. They hadn’t spoken. But he had been drawn in by her bright blue eyes and curly, dark hair, and by the little smile she had flashed his way before disappearing down the hall.

He had thought of her more than once since that day. Whenever he passed Dawson’s home, he had always looked up at the upstairs window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He had seen her there once, gazing out toward the water. He didn’t think she had seen him.

She was lovely. She was a distraction who had taken up residence in his head. But she had always been a fantasy, nothing more. An idle thought. He had never even seen her out of the house. And Dawson had been driven to try to steal to provide for her.

He’s a very protective man, Conor thought.A caring, protective father. Not at all the sort to use his daughter as a bargaining chip to get himself out of trouble.

And yet, here he was. Offering her up.

He refilled the scotch glasses and returned to the table, setting them down before taking his seat. Dawson took his glass in both hands and pulled it to him. He looked absolutely miserable as he drank.

“Why are you doing this?” Conor asked, after allowing him a moment to collect himself.

“Doing what?”

“Offering your daughter to me.”

“The law—”

“Don’t expect me to believe it’s because of the law. I could call them right now, but I haven’t.”

“But you will. You’re willing to do it. You said as much yourself,” Dawson said.

Conor felt a mixture of pity and contempt for the man. He was such a coward. “I know you care for your daughter,” he said. “I know you aren’t simply using her to buy your way out of trouble.”

“I don’t think you are what people say you are,” Dawson admitted. “Not truly.”

“You thought that I wouldn’t loan you money if you asked me, though.”

“I feared you wouldn’t. I couldn’t take the chance.”

“You’ll take the chance with your daughter?”

Dawson looked down at his hands.

“What kind of man are you?”

“She’ll have what she needs,” Dawson said. “She’ll have a good life. She’ll be married to an earl. She’ll have money and fine things, servants to tend to her. And I’ll know that whatever becomes of me, she’ll be all right.”

He’s right, Conor thought.About that, at least, he’s right. I have enough money to provide a good life for any woman. If his concern is ensuring that his daughter marries well and is cared for…well, she’s a commoner, and I’m an earl. She could certainly do worse.

Was it thoughts like that that made people think he was a cruel man? He didn’t mean it as arrogance. It was simply the truth. A commoner, a girl, might find herself married to any sort of terrible man, particularly if her father had been disgraced. To marry an earl would be a coup.

And it would definitely serve as a punishment for Tobias Dawson. Conor could see the anguish twisting the other man’s face already.He cherishes her, he thought.That’s why he keeps her at home all the time. It will torment him to lose her, even to a good marriage.

Conor couldn’t deny that a part of himdidwant to see Dawson suffer for what he had done. He didn’t want to destroy the man, to call in the law and take away his business and his home. But he was angry. Dawson had tried to steal Conor’s hard-earned money.

And even setting that aside, there was the matter of the girl.

She really is uncommonly lovely. She would make a good wife, he thought. And it would be good tohavea wife. Dawson was right in saying that the many rumors about Conor would make it difficult for him to find someone to marry.

For a moment, he thought about what Killian O’Flannagan would say if Conor announced an engagement.He would really feel like an idiot then, Conor thought, with some satisfaction.He would have to acknowledge that his rumormongering did him no good.

He sipped his scotch, pondering the options.