“Coll, y—”
With Eloise still protesting, the two MacTaggerts headed off toward the garden. Miranda didn’t wait to see whether they went outside or not. Instead she took Matthew by the arm and pulled him into the nearest corner. “Your new friend Captain Vale just declared that he and I should marry,” she stated, keeping her voice down. “He said I should speak to you about it, intimating that the scheme has your approval. I don’t know what you might have said to him, but you need to go make it very clear that there’s been a misunderstanding and there will not be a wedding.”
Her brother opened and shut his mouth. “He’s not a bad sort, Mia. A bit direct because he knows what he wants, but—”
“You are jesting,” she cut in, the sharpness in her voice making him flinch.Good.“I know you generally like everyone, but you cannot allow some addle-pated lunatic to go about making such declarations to your own sister simply because he’s George’s cousin.”
“That’s not… You shouldn’t call him addle-pated. Vale’s a sharp stick. He… I—”
“Matthew Alexander Harris, stop stammering and tell me what the devil is afoot.” Miranda dug her fingers into his forearm. “I do not like where my suspicions are taking me.” Actually, her heart had begun hammering fast as a hummingbird’s wings, and something like horror crawled with cold fingers up her spine.
He scowled. “Don’t make it so dramatic. You mean to marry eventually, don’t you? And you haven’t found anyone in the five years you’ve been out. Why not—”
“It took you six years to find Eloise,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but she only came out this year.”
“What does that have to do with any—”
“I can’t even count the number of completely acceptable men who’ve tried to court you. Well, Vale’s not one of the horde you’ve already rejected. He—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She curled her fists. The lengths to which Matthew would go to make himself seem like the reasonable one were maddening. “I amnotmarrying him.”
“You have to, Mia.”
That stopped her tirade cold. “And why is that, pray tell?” she whispered.
“Because I owe him nearly fifty thousand pounds.”
The amount… Even in her worst nightmares she’d never imagined such a sum. “Matthew!”
“It didn’t begin that way,” he protested. “I lost a few quid to him at the tables, and then I won it all back and more—I was up by five hundred quid, Mia, so I knew I could best him—and then when I went under again, he kept giving me chances to win it back. The odds that two horses would pull up lame in the same race last week—any sane man would have wagered against that.”
“No, Matthew, any sane man wouldn’t wager more than he could afford to lose. And for you that number is nowhere near fifty thousand pounds. Good heavens! You know better.”
“I was already under by twenty thousand. A chance to wipe that out all at once… And it was a sure bet. A sure bet.”
“Evidently it was not. For God’s sake.” Miranda took a breath, trying to quiet the roaring in her ears. Fifty thousand pounds. She couldn’t even imagine. And yet, there it was. “I thought you’d stopped with all the gambling after you had to sell Winterbourne. And Uncle John—his debt wasn’t even a quarter of what you’ve managed to acquire.”
“I did stop, mostly. But Vale was fresh in London, and wanted George to take him gambling, and I didn’t want to look like some bumpkin just sitting there.” He looked down, his expression one of abject despair. “It’s only been six weeks. I don’t know how that amount… I don’t know how it happened.”
She did.Captain Robert Vale had seen precisely who Matthew was, and he’d dug in to bleed him dry. To accomplish that in six weeks told her everything she needed to know about the man. He was a gambler. A very proficient one. “How did my name come into this?” she made herself ask, however clearly she could see it happening.
“Two days ago, he said he’d decided to remain in London and wanted to purchase a house in Mayfair, and he required the blunt I owed him. When I admitted that I could pay him only two hundred quid, he said I should go to Father—or he would. I can’t—Father would disown me. Or I would bankrupt the family. Or both.” Matthew shut his eyes briefly. “So, I asked if we could reach some kind of agreement for repayment. That’s when he said he required a wife, and that he would forgive the entire amount in exchange for your hand in marriage.”
“We’ve never even met. How—”
“We saw you walking on Bond Street right after he arrived in Town. He said you showed very well. Mia, I—”
“Don’t you dare try to apologize to me. I am so angry with you, Matthew. I can’t even…” Miranda took a breath. “Does Eloise know how much debt you’re in? That you’ve agreed to barter your own sister to clear a ledger?”
His already-pale countenance grayed at the edges. “Of course I haven’t said anything. Lady Aldriss would callme a fortune hunter and order the engagement ended. Her brothers would murder me. I would deserve it, of course, but I can’t bear the thought of being without her.”
“But you can bear the thought of your sister marrying to settle your debt,” she snapped. “Thank you very much.”
“What should I do, then? Throw myself off a bridge? Run off to America and vanish? The debt would still be owed. He has my promissory notes, my signature. And he’s not likely to take pity on us, as Lord Panfrey did with Aunt Beatrice. My life, my future, is in your hands, Miranda, and I don’t know what else to do. I owe the man the money.”
She wasn’t so certain about that; Matthew seemed more a victim than an unlucky equal in this equation. What, then, did that make her? Just to clarify,” she said quietly, looking at him until he met her gaze, “you expect me to give upmyfuture in your stead.”
