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“Indeed, she has,” her aunt put in. “Just look at her gown, Viscount. It is five years old, if it is a day.”

“The line of it is marred by that ring of keys,” his lordship said coolly. “Other than that, I see nothing wrong. If ladies’ waistlines are higher these days, it scarcely matters to a dowry-less girl.”

Ella curled her fists. When her parents died, her uncle had announced that Ella’s father had left her nothing. She didn’t believe it; she had never believed it, and she never would. She clearly remembered her father signing the will that entailed his estate in Norfolk on her children.

“I’m not leaving the estate to you, dear girl, but to your children,” her father had said, smiling. “I don’t want fortune-hunters after you, more than they will be already.”

As soon as she was of age, Ella had written to the family solicitor, only to find that the late viscount had supposedly never written a will, and since as a woman she could not inherit, everything had gone to her uncle. She and Jarvis had searched the house for the will he witnessed, but never found it.

“Never mind that!” Fulvia cried. “My debut, Father. My fiancé! What of him? How am I to meet Lord Peregrine wearing rags?” Her voice rising: “What of the ball, already announced?”

That was true. Invitations to the St. Trevelyon Ball, themed “Starry, Starry Night,” had been dispatched two months ago.

“I pity your vulgarity, Daughter,” the viscount said dispassionately. “I did not come into this world merely for your support and enjoyment. I consider my responsibility to you finished when I secured you an excellent fiancé.”

“Since you informed the man in question that Fulvia is elegant, you will have to sell the new carriage to finance a wardrobe,” Ella told him.

“I cannot,” he replied. “It suffered an accident and is at the wheelwright, who mean-spiritedly refuses to release it until his bill is paid.”

“Oh, no,” his wife gasped. “There was an accident? You could have been injured!”

“Actually, no. I believed my horses capable of crossing London Bridge without a driver, but there it is. One is constantly disappointed in this world.”

“You placed a wager on a driverless carriage, without consideration of the consequences,” Ella stated.

A chill passed through his eyes. “If my wife had come to me with an adequate estate, I should not consider twice the loss of such a paltry thing, a few slats of wood.”

The viscountess was twisting her hands. “I shall … What shall I do? I could sell my ruby necklace!”

Her husband glanced at her.

“I suspect your rubies have been exchanged for glass,” Ella said.

“In a moment of perplexity,” the viscount said, without a flash of remorse.

The viscountess dashed away a tear. “I see.”

“I surely needn’t remind you that all your possessions are mine under law,” he told her.

“Certainly not,” she faltered.

“Shall I withdraw the invitations to the ball?” Ella asked.

“You may not!” Fulvia cried. “Father says you have responsibility for the household, and that means you must find the funds to buy me a wardrobe. Lord Peregrine isn’t signing papers until the day following. No nip-cheesing, either—we must have champagne and a luxurious supper. Everything befitting the only daughter of a viscount!”

Ella realized suddenly that she had lost track of the number of Unkind Thoughts of the day. But surely today was an exception? After all, she too was the only daughter of a viscount, and yet she carried a housekeeper’s rings.

“How shall I fulfill Fulvia’s demands, Uncle?” she inquired, managing to keep her voice even. “You know as well as I do that the household accounts are unpaid. We are lucky not to have bailiffs occupying the kitchen. Believe me, no modiste will extend us her custom, given the notoriety of your unpaid tailor’s debts. And no grocer will supply us with the necessary victuals for a ball. Champagne is out of the question.”

“It’s in your hands,” the viscount said. “I actually envy you, Niece. You have an ability that I have not. The time has come to repay the kindness of this family to you, a penniless orphan.”

“What are you talking about?” Ella asked in exasperation.

“Your mother’s diadem.”

“My mother’s diadem?” She had no idea what her uncle was talking about.

He sighed. “A circlet of diamonds, as I understand it. The family solicitors have reserved it for you.”