“Indeed, that was a spectacularly bad shot, Montford.” Basingstoke twirled his cue between his fingers. “May we take that to mean you have a specific interest in Miss Thorne’s marriage prospects?”
“Take it however you bloody well like, Basingstoke.”
Grantham tutted. “Come now, Montford, don’t be cross. What difference does it make to you who Miss Thorne marries?”
“None whatsoever. It’s no business of mine.” Miss Thorne might marry whomever she liked without him batting an eye. “As long as it’s not Stoneleigh.”
Very well, then.Nearlywhomever she liked.
“Then I have bad news for you, Montford.” Grantham leaned over the table to line up his next shot. “Stoneleigh took Miss Thorne for a walk around the lake this afternoon.”
“What? You mean to say Stoneleigh ishere, at Basingstoke House? What the devil is he doinghere?” The last thing any shooting party needed was a bloody vicar.
Basingstoke frowned. “Helivesin West Farleigh, Montford. You do recall I bestowed the living on him?”
“He and Miss Thorne appeared quite cozy this afternoon.” Grantham sent the ball careening across the baize with a stroke of his cue. “Quite cozy, indeed.”
Cozy? Oh, he didn’t like the sound of that. “Stoneleigh could never make a lady like Prudence Thorne happy. Of all the gentlemen in England, he’s the last one I’d choose for her.”
Basingstoke shrugged. “Be that as it may, Montford, Miss Thorne must wed, and Stoneleigh is offering. Or he will be, soon enough.”
“That’s good. She hasn’t any time to waste. Damn it.” Grantham cursed as his ball went wide of the pocket. “Your turn, Montford.”
Jasper turned to Grantham. “What the devil doesthatmean?”
Grantham blinked. “Well, Montford, it means you take your cue, aim it at your ball, and try and hit—”
“Notthat, Grantham. I mean what you said about Miss Thorne. Why should she be in such a rush to marry that she’s forced to accept a mushroom like Stoneleigh?”
Basingstoke hesitated, his gaze meeting Grantham’s. “It’s nothing you need worry—”
“Bollocks.” Jasper dropped his cue onto the side of the table and turned on his friends, his chest suddenly gone as tight as a fist. “The two of you have been casting significant glances at each other all evening. You’re like a couple of gossiping maiden aunts with a naughty secret.”
Basingstoke winced. “Very well. Perhaps I should have told you earlier, but Francesca promised Miss Thorne, and I promised Francesca I wouldn’t divulge—”
“Just get on with it, will you, Basingstoke?” He’d had a bad feeling about Miss Thorne’s sudden desire to marry ever since she’d appeared on his doorstep with those blasted earrings, and now a chasm of dread was opening in the pit of his stomach.
“Major Thorne is ruined, Montford. That wager . . .” Basingstoke shook his head. “He’s sold off all of his land to a neighboring squire already, and his estate is next.”
“Sold his estate?” Jasper fell against the billiards table, all his limbs going slack at once. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Or perhaps the better question was, why hadn’t he figured it out himself? He’d suspected from the start that Major Thorne’s pockets were too shallow to meet his obligations. He should have known Thorne would be forced to resort to something like this.
“Thorne’s proud, Montford. He won’t accept help, nor does he want his financial difficulties to become fodder fortongossip. Miss Thorne confided in Francesca only under the strictest promise to keep the matter quiet.”
Thorne wouldn’t accept help, meaning he wouldn’t allow Basingstoke or any of his other friends to pay off his debt.Thatwas why Miss Thorne had come to him with her mad blackmail scheme. She’d never be able to persuade her father to accept five hundred pounds, but if the debt simply disappeared, there’d be nothing Thorne could do about it.
The earrings in exchange for erasing the debt.
It all made perfect sense. If he’d been in her place, he’d have blackmailed him, too. Except he’d refused her, hadn’t he? He’d sent her away, thinking himself very ill-used, and now she’d be obliged to marry a smug, conceited, self-righteous fusspot of a vicar!
Damnation, but this was a disaster. He must see her at once and tell her he’d changed his mind, and would be perfectly delighted to be blackmailed, after all. He’d also have to find a way to do something about the property they’d already lost. Perhaps he was every bit the unrepentant scoundrel all of London said he was, but he wasn’t going to put an honorable old fellow like Thorne out of his home.
Not Thorne’s daughter, either, no matter how much of a tart-tongued hellion she was.
“Your Grace?” A footman appeared in the doorway. “The duchess requests your presence in the drawing room to escort the guests into dinner.”
“Thank you, Hobbes.” Basingstoke set his cue in the rack. “Come, gentlemen. We mustn’t keep the duchess waiting.”
Jasper trailed after his friends, wincing as the brighter light in the hallway pierced his throbbing skull.
