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Crispin looked up, startled, his cherubic face tearstained and red with the slap.
His heart pounding as inspiration gripped him, Algernon pointed a warning finger in his face. I will tell
you exactly what you are going to do, my boy, and if you utter so much as one syllable of complaint, I
will leave you to the loan sharks to cut their pound of flesh from you as you deserve.
Anything, Father, he whispered.
There is a girl. An heiress. She has a fortune, Crispin, a fortune that no one else knows about but I . . .
and Egann and now you, as well.
Crispin s tongue flicked over his lips. A . . . substantial fortune?
At last, an intelligent question from the fool. Algernon s lips thinned in a feral smile. Does fifty thousand
pounds sound significant to you?
His son s eyes widened.
Now, God may have denied you no more sense than he gave a hen, my boy, but he gave you looks.
You will woo this girl and win her, or we are finished, Crispin. Do you understand? Me, you, your
mother, your sisters. I mean debtor s prison.
Horror, then resolution, filled his youthful face. I will win her, Father. If it is the last thing I do.
She is well guarded. She has many suitors.
I don t care if she were the sultan s virgin sister, nay, kept in an ivory palace with a horde of janissaries
to protect her. I vow I shall win her somehow. I know I ve failed you in the past, Father, but this I can
do. Just tell me who she is and she is mine.
His hazel eyes hardened in satisfaction. She is your little bastard cousin, Crispin. Miss Miranda
Fitz-Hubert. And I don t want to hear one word from you about marriage between first cousins
becoming unfashionable. So help me, if you say it, I will put you through that window. It is an aristocratic
tradition and perfectly legal.
Crispin searched his eyes. I have heard of this girl. They say she is beautiful.
Algernon made no comment.
Is she not the ward of Colonel Lord Winterley? His brother, Lord Alec Knight, is my good friend. I can
gain an introduction through him
No. You will do exactly as I say. Above all, we do not wish to appear overly eager. I see I shall have
to conduct this affair for you from start to finish.
Father?
Algernon considered for a moment, studying the far wall absently; then he nodded, speaking rapidly
under his breath, as though to himself. We ll send your mother and sisters over to call on her, yes, the
womenfolk first. They ll be too suspicious if it comes from me. You will escort them. From there, we
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shall invite her to dine. A formal reception. Of course. We are her kin, are we not? It is proper that we
accept her, even though she is illegitimate.
If the Knight family has given her their blessing, we cannot fail to do the same.
Exactly. Finally, you begin to see things my way. And Crispin, when she comes to dinner
Yes, Father?
Dazzle her, if you know what s good for you. With a hard, warning look, he straightened up, turned
his back on his son, and walked out to give his vapid twit of a wife her orders.
A short while after Miranda had fled the stable, Damien had collected himself and had saddled one of
Robert s more manageable geldings, in no mood to fight with his temperamental stallion. As he guided the
horse through the darkened streets of Town, heading for Lucien s home in Upper Brooke Street, he
turned his thoughts away from brooding upon the painful exchange between him and his ward, returning
instead to the suspicions that had begun taking shape in his mind before Miranda had come into the
stable.
That horse should not have bolted on her. He had taken pains to be certain of the mare s steady
temperament before buying it, but today the animal had run as though it had been stung by a bee or
struck by some small missile, such as a rock or a pebble from a slingshot. He had checked the mare from
head to hoof, but had found no mark or injury to suggest such an attack. Of course, it would have taken
a hard blow indeed to have penetrated the horse s thick, protective winter coat.
He had questioned the grooms who had been watching Miranda, but they had not noticed anything out
of the ordinary, yet they vouched that Miranda had done nothing to spook the horse, either. Lately the
near misses and mishaps were becoming too numerous to discount as mere coincidence. Absurd as it
sounded, he was beginning to wonder if someone was out to get Miranda. First she had been attacked
on Bordesley Green by men he had assumed were Mud City outlaws; then she had nearly been run
down by a carriage on Bond Street, again, another seeming accident; now her docile mare had bolted off
under her like a streak of lightning. It didn t make sense. That was why he was going to talk to Lucien.
This sort of intrigue was just his spy brother s area of expertise, and Damien was the first to admit that
his own thinking was less than crystal clear of late. He meant to speak to his twin about all of it; if nothing
else, Lucien would reassure him that he was merely suffering from overprotective paranoia.
The only two people that he could think of who had reason to despise Miranda were Mr. Reed and
Mistress Brocklehurst of Yardley School, for revealing the abuse of the students that had been going on
there, but their involvement seemed unlikely; the timing of the mishaps did not fit. The attack on
Bordesley Green had occurred well before he had turned the headmaster over to justice. Indeed, the
dangers had begun rolling at her shortly after Jason s death.
The parallel he drew chilled him to the marrow. Could the person who murdered Jason now be after
Miranda? But why? Surely his half-demented brain was playing tricks on him, he thought, but at least he
had managed to hide his concerns from her. There was no point in alarming the girl, on top of everything
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