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“Really, Annabelle, you cannot make a public display of yourself in that way. Do not tell me that you risked your reputation to argue political reform.” The horror in her aunt’s tone made Annabelle want to laugh hysterically. She would much rather have been discussing political reform.

“I’m sure the content of our conversation would entirely meet with your approval.

He proposed.”

Lady Beauford’s eyes grew large in the light from the carriage’s inner lamp. “You cannot be serious.”

Annabelle sighed wearily. “Never more so.”

“But that is wonderful. Of course, I could wish that he had sought out your brother’s approval first.” Annabelle did not reply. “It is not technically necessary. You are of age and in control of your own fortune. You’ll want to get the solicitor working on marriage settlements.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“Of course you are. Now, what about your fortune? I don’t suppose you have told him about it? Money is such an indecorous thing to discuss. I’m sure we can leave the particulars up to your brother and his lordship.” Annabelle sat up straight on the cushions of the coach. “If I were going to marry him, which I am not, I would be perfectly capable of discussing the particulars of my fortune with Ian, I mean Lord Graenfrae.”

Lady Beauford made an impatient sound. “That Wollstonecraft woman has a lot to answer for, if you want my opinion. Although, the young fry never do want to listen to the wise counsel of their elders.”

Annabelle cringed. Not another lecture on the vagaries of youth. She certainly didn’t consider herself “young fry” as her aunt called it.

“Another thing, my dear, you may not be willing to marry that handsome gentleman, but I can think of several ladies who would be. I asked Lady Markham about him when he first sought your acquaintance. He has land, a title and stands to inherit a fortune from his late stepfather when he marries.”

Annabelle digested her aunt’s words. “What do you mean he will inherit a fortune when he marries?”

She sat in stunned silence as Lady Beauford related the details of the late earl’s will.

Apparently, she fulfilled another one of Ian’s “requirements”. She was English. His proposal made an awful kind of sense now. Ian had no choice but to wed. Being a logical man, he had gone about choosing a wife the same way he would have chosen a horse.

Drat the man. He had misjudged his quarry though. Marriage for the sake of convenience had no place in her plans.

“Where did you hear this, Aunt Griselda?”

“Cederic. The dear boy was most forthcoming.” Annabelle could well imagine. Ceddy’s love of tittle-tattle was legendary. “I can certainly understand the laird’s need to marry. However, he will have to find a different bride.”

Lady Beauford snorted. “I should have known you wouldn’t show any sense about this.”

Annabelle looked at her aunt with speculation. Could it be true that a bevy of ladies would leap at the chance to marry that crude man? Well, actually she herself could think of almost an entire dozen.

Smiling for the first time in hours, she said, “Perfect.”

“Yes, he is. I’m glad you are finally showing some sense.” Annabelle ignored her aunt’s words. When Ian came to call, she would have her own list comprised of possible candidates for him to marry.

* * *

William walked into the solicitor’s office feeling like he entered purgatory. Didn’t the old fusspot realize that he had better things to do than listen to another lecture on those foolish tradesmen trying to collect their debts? William was a landholder, an important man. He smoothed his graying hair against his temples and tugged at his waistcoat. Who was going to pay a tailor that made one’s clothes too tight anyway?

Marks, his solicitor, waved him to a chair. The man looked like an undertaker. What was a gentleman to do with an undertaker for a man of business? “It’s not a funeral, man, don’t look so mournful.”

His attempt at humor fell flat. The solicitor sniffed with disapproval. Marks never could take a joke. Hang him anyway.

“It may not be a matter of death, but it is certainly a matter of import. You are once again extended well beyond your means.”

William shifted impatiently, the constriction of his tight waistcoat making him uncomfortable. “We’ve been through this before. I can’t be expected to concern myself with petty things like tradesmen’s bills. What do you think I pay you for?” Marks cleared his throat. “I cannot pay your bills when there are no funds in your accounts. I am afraid that things have come to a dangerous pass.” It was just a matter of a few tailors’ bills after all. “What’s dangerous about a few outstanding accounts?”

“There are many more than a few and your tradesmen are threatening to sue. You do realize what that means, don’t you?”

William glared at Marks. “Of course I know what that means. I would be humiliated in front of all the polite world.”

Marks gave a humorless chuckle. “That would be the least of your troubles. If the court finds in their favor, and I cannot see them doing otherwise, you would be facing debtor’s prison until your debts could be satisfied.”

Debtor’s prison? Marks must be mad. William could not be thrown in prison. He was too important.

“I’m afraid the time has come for drastic measures.”

“What measures? You told me there was nothing else I could sell. Are you saying you have found a way to bypass my father’s will and sell a parcel of land?” William demanded.

The other man sifted through the papers on his desk. “No. The land is held in perpetuity for the heir. I was thinking about your horses.” William leapt from his chair. “There is a hunt in Sussex in six weeks time. You cannot expect me to sell my prime horseflesh with something so important in the offing.

It’s impossible.”

“Perhaps, if you had paid more of your tradesmen’s debts and less gaming debts—” He didn’t let Marks finish. “A gentleman pays his gaming debts. There must be an alternative to selling my hunters.”

Marks passed a hand across his eyes. “You could always marry an heiress.” William stared at the solicitor. Marry again? It had been a relief when he had finally been rid of his first wife. She had nagged him constantly about his gaming and horses.

The silly woman had not understood what was important. Just the thought of getting leg-shackled again made him shudder.

“I suppose I can retire to my estate briefly like you have suggested time and again.” Come to think of it, Marks was a great deal like his dead wife. They both nagged a man.

“I’m afraid it’s past time where that might help. If we act quickly, before the ton learns of your financial ills, we can still get a top price for your horses.” Sell his horses? It was not to be born. William turned and walked toward the door of the office. There must be another way. “I’ll contact you later.” He stumbled out the door and almost bumped into Marks’ clerk.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion, governor.” Something in the clerk’s voice made him glance up. There was an unmistakable look of avarice on the other man’s face. The door had appeared closed, but William did not quibble. He recognized opportunity when it came knocking.

“Oh?”

“Aye. Spinks is me name. Perhaps you and me could take a little walk.”

William drew himself up and spoke with a haughtiness he knew impressed the lower classes. “Why would I do that?”

“You’re looking for an heiress, I heard.”

His interest was pricked, but it didn’t do well to appear too eager. He had learned that buying and selling horseflesh. “I might be.”

“Come now. You’re in dun territory and you need a fat goose to get you out.” Flicking a nonexistent piece of lint from his sleeve, William looked down at the clerk. “I assume this conversation has a purpose?”

“Aye, it has a purpose all right. I like me position, see? I see lots of interesting t

hings. For instance, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found a certain statement of a lady’s groat sticking out of a file.” More likely the man had done a search when Marks was not in the office. “Whose assets might those be?”

“Well, now, governor, I wouldn’t want to be too free with my client’s information, see?”

He did see, very well. “How much?”

“Now, that’s what I like about you toffs. In dun territory, and you still got the blunt to buy an interesting bit of information.”

“How much?”

The clerk named a sum that made William swallow. “How do I know it’s worth it?” When the clerk listed the lady in question’s assets, William’s eyes bulged.

Several hours later Spinks took William’s money. It hadn’t been easy to raise the funds, but William had done it. Gad, it had been worth it too. His golden goose was a bluestocking spinster who hadn’t had a real suitor in three seasons. She would be easy prey. The courting wouldn’t come too expensive either. He had no competition, not for Lady Annabelle.

Chapter Three

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