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Rufus had also begun to take an interest in his title and his estate, in being a good landlord, in repairing some of the mess his father and his father had left behind. No one had really taken an interest in Southbrook Castle for years, and Rufus decided that he would be the member of the family to turn things around. The reforming earl, that was what he would be known as.

And then fate had come along and, as if to mock at his honorable pretensions, lumbered him with a debt that was likely to crush them all.

Unless the Heiress agreed to marry him.

He shook his head. Averil, not the Heiress. This was a real woman, a beautiful woman, who looked directly into his eyes as if she wasn’t in the least afraid of him. She should be, he knew she should be, and he should warn her away. Or better still, take himself off somewhere and never cross paths with her again.

But he already knew he wouldn’t. He was enjoying being in her company as he hadn’t enjoyed a woman’s company for years. Was it because she had her own secret past that he felt a connection with her? James had told him about Averil’s mother, who’d bolted with a lover and left her daughter behind, and then given birth to another girl and promptly died. Of course, Lord Martindale had managed to avoid scandal by cutting all ties with his wife, and Averil was therefore considered a perfectly respectable member of society.

Unlike him.

He admitted to himself that the idea of finding the siste

r, of doing what he once did so well, appealed to him. It would certainly take his mind off his troubles, but it was more than that. Rufus always enjoyed his work with The Guardians and was sorry when it ended, although at the time he knew he had had enough of political shenanigans. That was the thing when you were working for the government, somehow politics always reared its head, and he’d found himself on assignments where he didn’t consider his true talents were being used.

Perhaps they could be friends?

Rufus gave a loud crack of laughter. He wasn’t after friendship. He was planning to cold-bloodedly use her secret sister to worm his way into her life, into her heart, and then pounce. He was worse than anything anyone said about him, a creature to be reviled, but it was too late now. He couldn’t go back. Southbrook Castle was depending on him, and Eustace and James, too. They would lose their home. He couldn’t go back.

One way or another Rufus had set his sights on marrying Averil.

Averil wrapped her shawl about her nightgown and made her way a little reluctantly to bed. She had so much to think about and she knew she wouldn’t sleep while these questions were running around in her head.

“Averil? Are you asleep?” Beth, in her lacy nightcap, peered around the door.

“Far from it,” Averil sighed.

Averil smiled as Beth sat next to her on the bed and made herself comfortable. Beth, as well as a friend and companion, had come to take the place of her mother. She had only very vague memories of Anastasia. A scent that was perhaps a little too exotic, a warm embrace that was perhaps a little too tight, a smile that was perhaps a little too bright.

Instead it had been to Beth’s arms she ran on those stormy nights when the lightning flashed outside and she woke, terrified. She’d always been afraid of storms, as long as she could remember. Had there been a storm on the night her mother ran off with her lover? She would never know now; there was no one left to ask. The one time her father had spoken to her about the matter, his voice stiff with repressed emotion, he had not mentioned a storm.

“What happened? Was it not a pleasant evening?” Beth was eager to hear about the baroness’s supper.

“It was pleasant enough.” Averil wondered whether Gareth had received as many pledges as he’d hoped for, after the earl arrived. Many of the guests left in haste and others did not seem very happy. All the more reason, she supposed, to make sure that the earl gave them a nice sum tomorrow.

“And yet something is worrying you.”

She didn’t want to mention the earl to Beth, but she knew that her cousin would. “The earl of Southbrook was there. Gareth invited him.”

Beth goggled at her.

“He wants to be shown over the Home for Distressed Women tomorrow and plans to make a generous donation.”

“The man is not seen in polite society for years and now suddenly here he is, after bringing you home the other night, turning up at Doctor Simmons’s champagne supper. Averil, I don’t like coincidences. I hate to remind you yet again, but one day soon you will be a very wealthy young woman.”

Averil was startled into a laugh. “You think the earl wants me for my money? I think you’re doing him a disservice. He tells me he’s using me as a distraction.”

Beth’s other eyebrow went up. “So you do not feel he is making up to you, Averil? He’s not giving you lovelorn looks?”

Averil couldn’t help laughing again at the very thought. “He says he used me to warn his son against going out at night in London. A sort of cautionary tale.”

Beth pursed her lips. “I agree, it doesn’t sound as if he’s fixed his attentions on you. But be careful, my dear. He has a reputation.”

“Beth . . . what happened to him? Why is he no longer invited into society? Why is he so wicked?”

Beth looked uncomfortable. “Something about his wife, I think, and the manner of their marriage. And then when she died there were questions asked. I’m sorry but I don’t know the details, Averil. The earl has never been a leading light in London society. I did hear he worked for the government for a time, very hush-hush.”

The earl had mentioned something about that, and that he was very good at finding missing people. So it was true then? He might well be able to find Rose. Averil felt a surge of excitement. Perhaps at last she was on the verge of discovering what had happened to her sister.

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