Page 87 of Counting on Love

“Because he’ll be the Earl. And we’ll have to abide by what he decides to do.”

“Do about what?” Crispin said he hadn’t discovered anything! Oh, hell. Even if he knew nothing, he obviously suspected something. And the probability was high that it had to do with the same financial shenanigans Georgiana had been investigating. Crispin’s digging risked exposing the family and Georgiana!

Crispin drew an irritated breath. “I need to know first that I’m right.” He let the breath out with a resigned-sounding sigh. “I hope I’m not. God, I hope I’m not. If I’m wrong, I’ll intercept Jasper and give you a chance to speak with Georgiana alone.”

Reginald gave up. He was powerless to stop whatever Crispin had just set in motion.

“Do not embarrass her, Crispin. Don’t press her. If she does tell you anything, don’t ask her to explain how she knows.”

Crispin looked at him oddly. “What is going on?”

“Just don’t make this about her.”

“The deuce, Reg! What is it? Witchcraft?”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Well, don’t be a pigwidgeon. I don’t care how she knows. I just want to see what she knows. Now, come on. Unless you want Jasper to get there before us and embarrass her with a proposal.”

Bloody hell! Reginald hurried down the stairs, terrified and furious, swearing at Crispin the whole time.

They met Georgiana at the foot of the stairway leading from the guest chambers. She looked worriedly from Reginald to Crispin. “Is it your father?”

“No,” Reginald said. “His condition is unchanged.”

Then she paled. Her eyes grew huge as she continued to search Reginald’s face for an explanation. He wanted to flatten Crispin, but even Crispin appeared disturbed by the magnitude of her fear.

“Georgiana,” Crispin spoke very quietly. “Please, let’s go to the library. I want to show you something and ask you something.”

“No. No, I don’t think you do,” she said, shaking her head as she lowered it.

“If you’d prefer,” Crispin said, taking her hand and raising it toward his chest, drawing her gaze back to his face, “we can leave Reg here, and he can keep Jasper away.”

“Jasper’s coming too?” Now she swiveled her gaze back and forth between them, chin trembling. “This is wrong. I can’t.”

“He won’t be here for another fifteen minutes at least. Georgiana, would you rather speak with me alone?”

“The devil, Crispin!” Reginald swore. “Not alone. I won’t let you bully her.”

Crispin said, “Georgiana?”

“Oh, all right!” she cried. “Reginald, you may as well come too.” She ground out through clenched teeth, “I cannot believe you told him.”

“I didn’t. Georgiana, I didn’t say anything. And he is not going to interrogate you or, by God, I’ll—”

“Yes, that’s enough,” Crispin said, grabbing him and Georgiana each by their elbows to steer them to the library. He nudged the door open with his foot, pulled them inside, and shut the door with a gentle kick. While they huddled close to the exit, Crispin let go of their arms and strode to the desk to pick up a stack of ledgers that he then brought to the nearest corner table. He dropped them on its surface and gestured to the leather chair. “Sit,” he ordered in a way that reminded Reginald that his annoying brother was now an officer in the King’s Army—and no doubt a very effective one.

Georgiana sat. Crispin knelt on the floor in front of her, picked up a ledger, and opened it to a page marked with a slip of paper. Reginald came to stand next to the chair, peering down at the book in Crispin’s hand.

“This is odd. Don’t you think?” Crispin set the open book on Georgiana’s knee, then opened another and displayed that also.

Georgiana glanced down, then back at Crispin. “Yes,” she admitted. “I thought so.”

“What?” Reginald asked.

“Your Cambridge tuition is twice that of Oxford’s,” Crispin said.

He started and leaned to look at the figure. That made no sense. “That can’t be—”