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“I have the situation in hand,” he said.

Adele doubted that very much. Guy in no way resembled a man who was confident about his position. There was desperation in his eyes.

She knew that to ask would probably be to push him too far, but she screwed up her courage anyway. “Guy, who is Mr. Earl?”

“I told you already, he is no one you need to concern yourself with,” muttered Guy.

“I do if he insists on showing up at my door.”

A flicker of fear crossed Guy’s face. “He came again today?”

“No,” she said.

He sank down into his desk chair and placed his head in his hand. “There is nothing to worry about, but if he does show up again, instruct the servants not to admit him.”

“In your ledger there is an entry that says you paid Mr. Earl one thousand dollars in March.”

“You went through my desk? You had no right!”

“There are subsequent payments every month until August,” she said, ignoring his indignation. “Now, would you like to tell me why you have been paying the man a thousand dollars every month and why you stopped?”

“This is none of your business, Adele.”

“It is when it brings the man to my doorstep. I would like the truth.”

She thought for a moment that her husband would once again push back, but instead Guy sighed. “He loaned me money. I was in a particular bind back in March when the bank wouldn’t remortgage the house—”

“There is a mortgage on the Gables?” she asked, stunned. “But I thought you had purchased it outright.”

“Do you have any idea how much this house cost? How was I supposed to afford it along with Rosewood House, your parents’ rent, the wedding, and the honeymoon?” he asked.

“But I thought—”

“What? That I could simply pay cash for a South Orange Grove Boulevard mansion like this?” he asked with a laugh.

“Well, yes.” That was precisely what she had thought, because that was what Guy had led her to believe, always making a great display of spending widely and without a care.

“I was going to buy the Gables outright, only the Andalusian needed repairs to the roof. After the mortgage was in place, it didn’t make much sense to pay the loan back quickly, given how much you were spending on redecorating and furnishing the Gables and then Rosewood House.”

She did her best to ignore how he put the blame for her overspending at his urging solidly back on her shoulders. “How many mortgages do you have?”

“One on the Andalusian, two on the Colorado Grand, and one on the Gables.”

“And how much is the loan from Mr. Earl?” If he had already paid five thousand dollars off, she almost dreaded to think how substantial it had been to start with.

“It was just meant to plug some holes,” he said.

“Guy, how much?”

He pressed his lips, as though trying to keep the truth inside. Finally, he said, “Ten thousand.”

She inhaled sharply. “Ten thousand dollars? And you must still pay back five thousand?”

“That was the initial loan. There is interest.”

“How much interest?”

“It isn’t nearly as much as—”