“Gaming den? Which?” Though recognition slowly dawned as Elizabeth looked from Harris’s hangdog expression to her father’s blustery denial to Bella’s awkward demeanor.
All three knew something she did not.
“Annabelle.” She shifted her focus. “What have you been keeping from me, sister? Is it true Mr. Harris has been courting you? Is it true you just accepted his suit?”
But before Bella could answer, the Duke of Allendale strode in with Elizabeth’s husband two steps behind him. Milton looked alarmingly unkempt.
Her husband immediately addressed Mr. Harris. “Arty, you will escort Miss Winthrop and my wife home in your carriage. Wells,” he caught the Duke’s eye, “you will make excuses to the Earl and Countess of Denbigh for our hasty departure and the other mess we left. I trust any circulating rumors can be dealt with by yourself and the Duchess?”
“You may depend on our discretion, Jasp,” the Duke replied.
“Elizabeth, we will discuss all once I am home. Winthrop, you are coming with me,now.” And without a look back, Milton hauled Papa away.
Elizabeth was unsurprised her husband should command matters thus, but it insulted her no less. She was about to protest both his interference and indifference when the Duke himself turned to both her and Annabelle.
“Lady Milton, Miss Winthrop, the Duchess and I will do everything in our power to dispel all scandal. You are in the safest of hands with Mr. Harris to see you both home. Now, if you would be so good as to follow me discreetly, I shall arrange for Arthur’s carriage to be fetched and your wraps collected before you set off.”
Elizabeth stared at the Duke; what the devil was going on?
“Lady Milton.” He took her arm to lead her away, Mr. Harris following with Annabelle. “Your husband has everything in hand. He will ensure this entire misunderstanding blows over and is no doubt arranging matters with your father as we speak.”
Likely true, but Elizabeth chafed to have been the last to know anything. It was a truth that burned.
“Have younoidea who that man is?” Milton snarled at Winthrop, who cowered and sniveled before him. “And have you no shame? To sell your daughter so soon after I’d given you a small fortune for Elizabeth?” He was beside himself. “What is wrong with you, to have so little honor, so little control!”
“It isyouwho have no honor.” Winthrop whimpered his defense. “Youstole Lizzie from me, you and Harris. You rigged that game atThe Leaf,I know you did. And Finch confirmed it.Said you were a cheat, said you’d counted your way to duping me. So when he offered to?—”
“How much do you owe him,” Milton cut Winthrop off.
“It is not a matter of owing; it is a matter of?—”
“How much, damnation.”
“That’s just it!” Winthrop cried. “It is a matter of-of having already …given.” He barely exhaled the word.
“What did you say?” Something nasty slithered down Milton’s spine.
“She…” The man began to tremble.
“What. Have. You. Done?” Milton’s fists began to tingle.
“Bella was…” The old man lost it; he began to cry.
“You didn’t.” Milton seethed.
“I’d no choice! He’d cleaned me out entirely! All the money you gave me…” Winthrop continued an inchoate litany of excuses, while Milton breathed in and out, in and out, to keep from strangling the wretch.
It took every ounce of his self-control.
When he had steadied himself, he told the idiot in as calm a tone as possible, “You mean that in place of cash you wagered your daughter to Hieronymus Finch? ToFinch?” He began to spiral into anger so black it?—
“Fuck!”He hurled a decanter against the wall, shattering it into shards.
Winthrop cowered in full now, blubbering that he hadn’t meant to, he’d not known what kind of man Finch was, he’d thought Harris far worse. Even Milton had tricked him that night his luck had failed…
Milton knew his own actions had steered Finch to do exactly what he himself had done. From Winthrop’s perspective, Milton’s actionsweredeplorable, even if he’d merely asked for Lizzie’s hand after cleaning the man out. Finch, however, hadplayed the table for Annabelle outright: to own her, married or not.
Milton felt physically sick.
