“It could be worse.” Eli attempted a joke. “At least I’m not in the Court of Chancery.”
After some further lamentation, all futile, his parents accepted that there was nothing more to be done tonight and disappeared into the house to give instructions to the housekeeper and change for supper. It was already eight in the evening.
Only Hannah lingered, watching him quietly when he put away the letter.
“I should like my forfeit back,” she said.
“Pardon?” He couldn’t have heard right. What importance were forfeits now?
“You still have mine. I bet you think you can make me do something horrible like darn all your socks, and I’ll feel too sorry for you over this court-martial business to protest, but you’re mistaken.”
Eli chuckled in spite of himself. Which he suspected had been his sister’s intent. “Very well. Let me think a moment. I won’t make it too awful.”
“You won’t make it anything.” Hannah dropped her voice to a lower tone. “I have something of yours. You’re going to trade me my forfeit to get it back, and to buy my silence.”
“Your silence?” Was this still a joke? He hadn’t a clue what she could mean.
Hannah pulled a fist from her reticule and extended it into the air between them, opening her fingers to display, upon her open palm, a pair of gold cuff links.
The ones he’d been wearing the night of the Pearsons’ ball.
“You forgot these in our room.”
Damn.
Eli pocketed the cuff links without a word. How could he have missed them? If one of Jane’s family had found them before Hannah, his fate would have been sealed.
“My forfeit, if you please.”
The little monger. Eli fished out the note and passed it to her. “You won’t tell anyone,” he warned.
“Of course not.” She tore up the forfeit with a look of satisfaction. “But you should really stop ruining women.”
Ruining women, indeed. She made it sound like he was a rakehell. How he’d managed to be caught out twice for compromising a lady without even losing his virginity was quite a feat.
“Hannah,” he began. “I didn’t—”
“Tut-tut. Don’t scandalize me with the sordid details. I’m at a tender age. If you really want to convince me that you have honorable intentions, you’ll marry her. I expect I could earn a standing invitation to her gambling club if Jane were my sister. It sounds much more fun than balls.”
Eli sighed. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“Manage your own affairs then. But I hope you’ll take more care not to leave behind evidence next time.”
There won’t be a next time. Jane had made her wishes plain. Whatever he meant to her, it wasn’t enough to overcome their past.
He opened his mouth to tell Hannah as much, or at least an abbreviated version of it, but it was too late. She’d already turned and left the room.
Twenty-One
Uncle Bertie was waiting when Jane joined them at breakfast the next morning, a spark of excitement in his eyes. The scent of fresh bacon warmed the air.
“Ah, you’re awake. Eat quickly, please. I want you dressed and looking your best for callers by ten o’clock.”
His hopes for her future were verging on delusional, given how badly she was mucking it all up. Hadn’t they settled this yesterday?
“But, Uncle—”
“Yes, yes, I know. You’ve decided not to marry. But you can still sit in the drawing room for twenty minutes with your hair curled nicely and talk to any visitors who happen by, can’t you?” He paused for a sip of his tea. “It’s only good manners. And if one gentleman in particular makes you see how stubborn you’re being, so much the better. There is someone out there for everyone, my dear, even if you haven’t found him yet.”
