“I’d better dress.” Oliver hugged her again. “You are the best and bravest of sisters and I will not fail you in future.”
He went purposefully into his bedroom and Portia sat wearily, but with a degree of content. The affair had not gone as badly as it might, and it seemed to have shocked Oliver into his senses. She hoped Fort did ring a peal over him to complete the job.
And with any luck, they could be on a coach to Dorset tomorrow. She need never see Bryght Malloren again.
She rested her head on her hand and fought tears. They were just tears of weariness. Shedidn’twant to see him again. Even if his actions tonight had been to her advantage, he was a rake and a gamester, and the only offer he’d ever made her was an insulting one.
She sent Oliver on his way with a cheerful, confident smile and a teasing reminder to lock the outside door properly, then latched their door after him. She roamed the room restlessly for a while, mind whirling with too many disordered thoughts, then collapsed into a chair to await her brother’s return.
She was exhausted, but unable to sleep. She tried to discipline her mind, but all she could think of was a man’s touch, a man’s beauty in flickering candlelight, and a kindled desire that would never come to full flame.
Bryght returned to the office to find Rothgar had poured two glasses of port. “Am I to have an explanation of the mysterious purchase?” Rothgar asked.
Bryght leaned with assumed carelessness against the corner of the desk and sipped the wine. “I see no need. It is not a matter that effects the family.” Not yet, at least. He supposed marrying Portia would affect the family, but not unpleasantly…. Unless tonight’s business became known.
“Over four hundred?”
“Of my own money, Bey.” And that wasn’t strictly true. Bryght had lent his ready cash to Bridgewater before the duke went north. But he’d soon have more.
Except that it occurred to him that he was deep in debt at the moment. He’d just paid out four-twenty, thinking it was coming from Prestonly’s wager, but he’d promised Portia the whole twelve hundred. He didn’t begrudge it, but it had been strangely careless of him not to even think of it. With his losses at the table tonight, he was over seven hundred guineas in debt.
Not an alarming amount, but more than he could ever remember owing.
’Struth, if he won Portia St. Claire and it turned out that lucky in love did mean unlucky at cards he was in a pretty pickle. He suppressed a grin. Unless he wanted his brother to guess all, he’d best keep his wits about him.
Rothgar said, “I am as vulnerable to curiosity as any other man, Bryght. Are you going to torment me this way?”
Bryght couldn’t help but grin. “Yes.”
Rothgar smiled as he shrugged. “So be it.”
“And don’t employ your busy network to discover what I have been up to.”
“So be it,” said Rothgar again, but Bryght cursed silently. He knew his brother would keep his word and not pry, but he also knew that he’d made yet another error. He’d told Rothgar that he had something to hide.
Damn.
He’d thought Nerissa had turned his heart and mind to ice, but Portia St. Claire seemed to be thawing it to slush, with all the intelligence one could expect of slush.
Rothgar spoke as if there were nothing amiss. “I have come up to Town for the discussion of the war with Spain and the financing of it. I intend to stay here for some weeks. I note here some trouble in Bridgewater’s affairs.” He indicated the ledger he had been reading when Bryght came in. “His debt load seems heavy, and there’s no certainty he’ll get the Bill. I’ve heard Brooke on the subject and he virtually has a seizure at the mere mention of canals. If the waterway is stopped at Manchester, Bridgewater will be bankrupt. Do you still have faith in that project?”
Bryght snapped his wits into order. “Yes, of course. It’s the way of the future.”
“It will change England forever.”
“Gads, Bey, I never thought you of that stamp. Man must progress. People like Brooke would have us all still living in moated castles.”
“There are times,” said the marquess contemplatively, “when it would be very comforting to live in a moated castle. Such as when the duke’s creditors come howling to the door.”
“The family’s investment in the canal is moderate.”
“Your personal investment is not. You’ve become a shareholder. You’re liable for any and all debts.”
Bryght stiffened. How the devil had Rothgar discovered that? “That is my concern.”
“In this family, nothing is entirely a personal concern.” Rothgar leaned back. “I wonder why you would take such a risk.”
“Profit?”
