“Lady Juliet? May I assist you with something?”
Though I had never met this man either, I knew instantly that he was the infamous Augie. He confirmed it a moment later, insisting I call him such. He was already half ushering, half dragging me up a flight of stairs and into what I could only assume was an office before I could answer.
“Michael isn’t here right now, Lady Juliet. Can I help you with something?”
The floor dropped out from under me with that intelligence. I hadn’t realized just how desperate I was to see him, to be with him again, until the promise of him was taken away. I sank into a nearby leather chair, unable to hide my despondent response. Augie fussed over me, first reaching toward me then aborting his efforts, before ringing for tea and perching uncomfortably on the edge of the adjacent chair, clearly at a loss.
“When do you expect him to return?”
He hesitated, and my heart lurched with understanding. “He hasn’t been here in some time… But I would be happy to assist you with anything, absolutely anything.”
“I had hoped to get his advice, it’s a matter of some delicacy. Do you know how to deliver a note to him?”
“I don’t. I’m dreadfully sorry.”
“It’s certainly no fault of yours, Augie.”
“Are you certain there’s nothing I can assist you with? I’m responsible for all of Michael’s best ideas.”
That drew a chuckle out of me. I appreciated his efforts. He was the kind of person who put one instantly at ease, and I understood both Michael’s and Anna’s affection for the man.
With a resigned sigh I rose while replying, “Unless you can get me out of an engagement where the bridegroom refuses to be jilted, I’m afraid not.”
He stood with a start, blurting, “You’re trying to end your engagement? With Rosehill?”
“Yes…” I dragged the word out, trying to parse his sudden urgency.
“Sit back down. We’ll figure this out.”
“We will?”
“Yes. You say he won’t release you. Did he tell you why?”
“Yes, but I won’t share it. His reasons are fair, and I cannot see him ruined as a result of my actions. He has done nothing to warrant it. My desires to end the engagement have nothing to do with his actions or situation.”
He considered me thoughtfully. For a moment I worried I had said too much.
When he spoke again, it was with a measured thoughtfulness. “You are prepared for the consequences of ending an engagement? If you end it with Rosehill, you will be ruined. No respectable gentleman will have you.”
“I am quite aware of the consequences. To be honest, I hoped an entirely disreputable gentleman of our acquaintance might consider me. I do know he may not. He has made me no promises or declarations, quite the opposite. Regardless, I am prepared.”
He blinked slowly in response, contemplating my meaning before continuing. “You’re prepared for ruin, but you’re not yet ruined… What if you sped up the process? What if your reputation was in such tatters that no one could blame Rosehill for throwing you over?”
I flushed with the idea of what that ruin would entail, with the understanding that if anyone knew of the events at our bridge, Xander would have little choice.
“Oh lord, not like that!” he rushed to add.
“What did you mean then?”
“Please don’t tell Michael I implied that. I meant financial ruin—have your father’s debts called in.”
“What would that entail?”
“Well, he owes the club more than enough to put him in the fleet. I’m sure there are others outstanding, as well. We could purchase them and have him arrested for them.”
I blanched. Though I knew the vast sum he owed, the idea of debtor’s prison had never occurred to me. Somehow, I had not grasped the magnitude of my father’s vices, not even when he offered me in exchange for payment of his debts. It brought clarity to his erratic moods and desperation over the last months.
“You want to have my father thrown into debtor’s prison?”
