Mrs. Dove-Lyon was well within her rights to refuse, but they both knew Anna had no chance of leaving this office without the woman’s explicit approval. “Your brother owes a large debt to the house.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed. “My brother would never.” Not after what their papa had put them through as children.
“I have his signed vowels,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, the voice behind the veil smug. “You, of course, are welcome to check his signature.”
Impossible.
Anna walked to the edge of the desk and stared down at the papers Mrs. Dove-Lyon fanned across the oak.
Four IOUs. The number of pounds on them dizzying.
They must be forgeries—but, no, that was Will’s scrawl.William Lancer Greene, Viscount Brixby. The B in her brother’s title written with a wobbly, apprehensive hand even eight months after its bestowment from the Prince Regent.
It was Will’s signature.
She knew the estate and tenants—a grand addition to the title from Prinny for the man who’d taken a bullet for Wellington—was prosperous, but Anna couldn’t imagine a lifetime of good harvests and rents making up for the staggering debt.
Was it possible her brother was hiding because he could not repay what he owed?
Instant guilt had Anna shaking her head.No. Will would never have intentionally disappeared without telling her. Secret gambling aside, there wasn’t a world in which William would leave Anna without a word. Not after losing their father and suffering the cruelties of their extended family together.
“My brother is missing,” Anna reiterated, still not convinced of the proprietor’s innocence. “He can hardly pay.”
“What luck, then, that I have a perfectly acceptable familial party here. One that is more than capable of taking on her brother’s debt.”
Anna stared.
With the veil covering the woman’s face, it was impossible to read her expression, but Anna swore Mrs. Dove-Lyon was smiling, a feline baring of teeth.
“The way I see it, you have two options, Miss Greene.” She held up one finger. “We can forget your little criminal breaking and entering, and you will take on your brother’s debt to be paid out to me immediately. My payment for the information I’ve provided as well.” A second finger joined the first. “Or...” Her voice took on a steely edge. “You can be dragged from the premises in a most unsavory fashion to the amusement of every man, woman, and urchin along Cleveland Row.”
Whereafter the last shred of dignity attached to her brother’s name would be forfeit, and any hope she had of discovering her brother’s whereabouts would be impossible.
“I cannot repay you,” Anna said honestly, her skin cold. There were few options for her now. She could only hope Bow Street wouldn’t close their investigation while she rotted away in debtors’ prison.
“Your lack of imagination surprises me, Miss Greene,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Anna’s head snapped up, but she didn’t dare hope. Not when there were worse ways to pay than through hard labor. “What do you want?”
“A favor.”
Nothing else was forthcoming.
Anna gritted her teeth. “One favor and my brother’s debts are cleared?”
The widow nodded. “Simple, no?”
Nothing with the Lyoness would be simple.
Anna straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, unwilling to accept whatever cruel fate the woman devised with less than a warrior’s stance. “What kind of favor?”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon sat forward, a new sense of triumph in the woman’s petite frame. “You aren’t the only one sticking your nose where it does not belong.”
More games.Anna put both hands on the desktop and stared the woman down. Thosetutorsof hers would be appalled. “That isn’t an answer.”
“You’re right.” There was a tilt of the head and veil. “Tell me, Miss Greene, are you attached, promised, affianced in any way?”
Anna startled at the swift change in topic. “No—”
