He grimaced. “Actually, it was mostly from one game. I knew the stakes were too high, but I . . . I didn’t want . . .”
“To seem like a greenhead?” she gently finished.
He nodded, his expression miserable.
“Whom do you owe it to?”
“Sir Leslie. He was holding the bank.”
It all made perfect sense. “Of course he was. And I’m assuming he’s now demanding you pay it back.”
Another grim nod. “The full sum, or he’ll go to Papa.”
She shook her head in disgust. “What a disgusting pig. I’ve a mind to take him out behind the stables and horsewhip him.”
“I wouldn’t stop you,” he said with a heavy sigh.
She gently took his left hand. “Now, I have to ask this, Johnny. Did you steal my brooch?”
He jerked his hand away. “What? Why would you say that?”
“Because you know all my hiding places, like the boxes in the music room.”
His tone turned defensive. “If anyone took that stupid brooch, it was you. To put Richard off the scent.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But it’s really missing now, and I didn’t take it. Quite frankly, I don’t give a hang about the stupid thing, but I care about you. You’re in trouble, and I want to help you.”
“Well, it’s not helpful to accuse me of theft.” He snorted. “Good Lord.”
Despite his apparent bravado, she knew he was scared and desperate.
“Is Sir Leslie threatening you? And I don’t mean just ratting on you to Papa. Is he trying to intimidate you in any way?”
For a moment, panic leapt into his gaze. Then he lifted a defiant chin. “Don’t be silly.”
She leaned forward. “Kade told me before dinner that you and Sir Leslie had a bad argument a minute or two before you fell. Did he get so angry that he pushed you off the embankment?”
Her brother went as pale as a slipper moon. “I . . . I . . . that’s ridiculous. Of course he didn’t. I just slipped off. That was all.”
“Now,thatis ridiculous, because you know the island as well as I do. You would never have been so careless.”
He mustered a glare, although he remained deathly pale. “If you’re going to throw around wild accusations, you should just leave. Besides, it’s none of your business, and you wouldn’t understand, anyway. It’s a matter of honor, betweenmen.”
Charlie repressed the impulse to give him a good shake. She couldn’t do it anyway, because of his blasted shoulder.
“I don’t think it’s a wild accusation, though, is it?” she calmly asked.
“Just shut it, Charlie, would you? Let it—”
A knock sounded on the door, cutting him off.
She stifled a curse and stalked over to the door, yanking it open. Their housekeeper stood in the hall, tray in hand, looking apologetic.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Charlotte. I’ve got Mr. Johnny’s tea, as well as his headache powders.”
Charlie stepped aside. “Of course. Please come in, Mrs. Martin.”
The housekeeper bustled over to the bedside table. As she began to mix the powders into a glass of water, Johnny threw Charlie a veiled look.
