"No, I won't." He laughed as if it was all a big joke.

"Besides," Sophia said, "Mr. Drummond already proposed that very arrangement to Georgina."

Sophia omitted her encounter with Mr. Roxbury. Miles wasn't the most affectionate brother, but she couldn't risk that he'd grow protective and warn Mr. Roxbury to stay away in the future.

"Drummond did what?" Miles asked Georgina.

"It was nothing, Miles," Georgina claimed.

"Tell me what he said," he pressed.

"I begged him to have mercy on us, and he said he'd consider it-but I would have to be his mistress in order for him to show us any compassion."

"Were you dickering over terms? What would any mercy entail?"

"Miles!" Sophia scolded again. "Let's not discuss it. It's mortifying."

"I'm truly curious," he insisted. "What would Drummond be willing to surrender so he could have you, Georgie?"

"We didn't get that far in the conversation, Miles, and even if we had, it's pointless to talk about it. I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't like me, and I don't trust him. Despite how I might obligate myself, I could never garner the assistance we require."

"You're wrong, Georgie. A woman can obtain many advantages from a man if she manipulates him in the right way."

"If you think for one second that I'd be amenable, you need to think again. It would be a waste of time. I'd simply wind up dishonored and disgraced, and he'd never follow through on any promise."

Miles studied her, then quietly said, "I could command you."

It was a shocking remark, and Georgina was very hurt by it.

"Miles," Sophia chided, "you don't mean that."

He had that angry glower, the one that appeared when he was denied a boon he wanted very much. "We've let you live here, Georgina. We've been kind to you, and we've given you clothes and shelter and food. We've never asked anything in return. Have we ever asked you for anything?"

"No." Georgina's lips barely moved.

"It sounds as if you could save us. Why won't you? Aren't you grateful to me?"

"I've always been grateful, Miles. You know that."

"I thought I knew it," he spat, "but now I'm not certain. Are you a member of this family or aren't you? Are you loyal to us or not?"

"Miles," Sophia said, "stop it."

Georgina had tears in her eyes, and if she started to cry, Sophia wouldn't be able to bear it. Why, oh, why was Miles so difficult?

A muscle ticked in his cheek, his temper on a slow boil, and Sophia braced, wondering if he was about to fly into a rage. Ultimately he pushed back his chair and stood.

"It's nice to learn where I actually stand with you, Georgina," he told her.

"I'm sorry, Miles," she miserably replied.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for tonight's card game. Obviously it's all on my shoulders. It doesn't look as if anyone will help me."

He stormed out, and they slumped in their seats, the silence oppressive and exhausting.

"That was horrid," Sophia murmured once she could breathe again.

"Do you blame me for refusing Mr. Drummond too?" Georgina inquired. "Should I have agreed?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Sophia rose and came around the table to give Georgina a tight hug. "And don't listen to Miles. He's a beast, and we shouldn't ever be surprised by any of his crazed comments."

"No, I suppose not."

They smiled tremulously when behind them, a man cleared his throat. They glanced over to see a footman from the manor.

"What is it?" Sophia asked.

"Miss Sophia, you received a note from Mr. Bean. It was delivered to the main house, but the butler thought you should have it immediately."

She went over and took it from him, and he hovered, his curiosity overt and annoying and she waved him away. "That will be all. Thank you for bringing it. Thank the butler too."

"I will, Miss Sophia."

He departed, and she plopped down in her chair. In all the years she'd known Harold, he'd never written her a single time.

"What do you imagine he wants?" Georgina asked.

"I have no idea." Sophia gaped at the wax seal.

"Open it, Sophia. Get it over with. And maybe it's good news."

"We could use a dose of that." With shaking hands, she flicked her thumb under the seal, but she was too distressed to peek inside. She tossed it to Georgina. "Read it for me, would you? I can't."

Georgina perused the words, then sighed. "He's crying off."

"In a letter?" Sophia was offended and aggrieved. "Does he give a reason?"

"Not really. He simply says 'in light of your situation' he needs to rethink his future."

"His future!" Sophia fumed. "What about mine?"

"You never liked him anyway so it's not much of a loss, is it?"

Sophia chuckled, but dejectedly. "No, it's definitely not much of a loss."

"Portia! Wait!"

Portia spun around, seeing Miles hurrying toward her. She'd just finished chatting with Augusta and was headed to her carriage so she could rush home and confer with her father. Rumors had been circulating about the trouble at Kirkwood, and she couldn't coast along on gossip. Heaven forbid one of the Marshalls-her fiance perhaps?-would stop by and provide an explanation.

Portia had had a full hour with Augusta, and she'd learned more than enough about the property and Miles and Mr. Drummond. She'd agreed to their betrothal because Miles was the biggest, richest landowner in the area, because she'd have been wealthy and prominent and esteemed by being his wife.

What was he now? Nothing at all as far as she could discern.

"What is it, Miles?" she curtly said as he hustled up.

"I didn't realize you were here. When did you arrive?"

"A while ago. I've been talking to your mother."

"Is she up? She was napping when I left."

She frowned, expecting him to mention the crisis or clarify how it was that he and his mother were living in a hovel in the woods that had been boarded up for two decades. Yet no clarification was forthcoming.

"When did you arrive?" she asked him.

"This morning. I rode all night. I'd promised Georgina I'd be home for the party, but I had the date wrong so I missed it." He guffawed as if his mistaking the date was funny.

"It would have been nice to know you were back. Were you planning to visit me?"

"Yes, I was planning on it."

"Were you?"

She whipped away and started down the lane, anxious to get in her carriage so she could have a private moment to mull her options.

He raced after her and grabbed her arm. "You seem upset."

"I seem upset?"

"Yes."

He was staring at her with an expression people found charming. It was a mixture of confusion and innocence, one he'd perfected so he could glide through life without ever being blamed or scolded. It had probably been cute when he was a boy, but as an adult man in his thirties, it was irksome in the extreme.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" she inquired.

"I'm delighted to see you. I'm busy this evening, but how about if we go riding tomorrow?"

"Riding? Seriously, Miles?"

"Yes. You love to ride. Why shouldn't we?"

"Would you care to inform me why you, your mother, and your sister are currently residing in Drummond Cottage?"

"Oh, that." He chuckled. "It's just a misunderstanding."

"Is it?"

"Absolutely. You shouldn't worry about it."

She bit down a thousand caustic retorts. She wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but she knew what the word foreclosure meant. She knew what bankruptcy meant.

"What about Mr. Drummond?"

"What about him?"

"Miles, I spent an excruciating hour with your mother. Don't pretend to be unaware of what we discussed."

"If you're suggesting she denigrated me, I will highly protest any negative comments."

Her temper finally exploded. "You don't own Kirkwood anymore!"

"I told you it's all a misunderstanding."

"Is it? I suppose you think you'll snap your fingers and have it restored to you."

"Yes, I do think that."

"How will you accomplish it?"

"Mr. Drummond and I will be...ah...meeting later."

"To what?" She blanched. "To duel?"

"Not to duel. Don't be absurd. He's not worth killing."

"What then?"

"We're gambling."

"Gambling," she repeated.

"Yes. He's giving me a chance to regain Kirkwood."

"With a turn of the cards?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that how you lost it in the first place?"

"Yes, so it's only appropriate to recoup it that way. Why be in such a snit? Gentlemen gamble, Portia. You shouldn't be shocked by it."

She was cognizant of the scourge of wagering, how it infected people almost as if it was a sickness. She had two brothers and several cousins who had succumbed, and her brothers' profligacy was the reason she was so desperate to marry Miles. Kirkwood was her escape route, her path to stability and security.

There had been rumors about Miles's problems with betting, but she'd never witnessed it. When he was at Kirkwood, he seemed ordinary and sane. She'd never been to London with him though, had never observed how he acted there where the habits were glamorous and negligent.