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giving Miles and Nerissa their chance although I am convinced it is impossible that they shall succeed in observing my terms.’“
    Sir Neville perked up.
    “‘Miles Courtenay, having squandered his patrimony in wild living, has continued to bring disgrace upon his name by using the proceeds of his incessant gambling to indulge in the vilest debauchery, in the pursuit of actresses and other promiscuous women.’“
    “Mostly actresses,” murmured Mr Courtenay, unrepentant, “and not merely pursuit, but capture.”
    Shocked, Nerissa reinspected him. She would never have guessed he was one of those obnoxious gentlemen like Sir George Clemence who hung about greenrooms looking for females to pester with their attentions. She had quite liked him, but perhaps his motives in taking her up in his curricle had not been as altruistic as she supposed. He had fed her, true, but then Sir George’s attempt at seduction had involved endless boxes of bonbons and invitations to dine with him.
    “Your turn,” Mr Courtenay said dryly, motioning towards the lawyer.
    “‘As for my granddaughter,’“ Mr Harwood was saying, “‘I judge Nerissa less at fault than my godson in that she did not choose to be bred up in the licentious atmosphere of the theatre. Yet as the twig is bent, so grows the tree. Loath though I am to apply it to my own progeny, I cannot deny that the word actress is synonymous with strumpet.’“
    “B-but...” Nerissa stammered as every head swung round to stare at her.
    With her usual helpless feeling before the onslaught of a myriad eyes, she turned in entreaty to Mr Courtenay to defend her. The interested gleam in his eyes incensed her, but before she could react Mr Harwood hurried on.
    “‘However, I offer Miles and Nerissa an opportunity to reform. They shall receive the above inheritance provided that, for the period of six months from the date of the reading of this, my Testament, primo, Miles shall enter into no wager for money or other valuable consideration; secundo, Nerissa shall so amend her dress and behaviour, eschewing theatrical vulgarity, as to prove herself an acceptable acquaintance to the gentry of this neighbourhood; tertio, they shall both reside at Addlescombe Manor and live chaste, fornicating neither with each other nor any other.’“
    Nerissa hid her burning face in her hands.
    “To the devil with the old bastard,” roared Mr Courtenay, jumping to his feet. “Alive he failed to rule me, I’ll not let him succeed dead.”
    Giving him a commiserating glance, the lawyer ploughed on. “‘If either fail to observe these conditions, the other shall receive both shares. If both fail, all monies and property hereinbefore mentioned shall be disposed of according to the further provisions of this Will, which are not to be divulged at this time.’“
    Miss Sophronia waved a vinaigrette under the moaning Lady Philpott’s nose, while the rest converged on Mr Harwood in a clamour of complaints.
    “All these years of taking care of him,” Mrs Chidwell berated him, her mighty bosom heaving with fury, “and you let him insult me in favour of a pair of debauched strangers.”
    “I’ll contest the deuced thing,” Sir Neville spluttered. “Clearly my brother was not of sound mind.”
    Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Nerissa looked up.
    “Now you know why I ceased to visit my godfather long since,” said Mr Courtenay with a mirthless grin. “Being lectured on my sins is one thing; being denounced in public is another.”
    “Shall you really give up a fortune rather than submit to his rules?”
    He subsided onto his chair, his grin becoming rueful. “The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks,” he misquoted. “The truth is, I cannot afford to stand upon principle. The old devil has caught me at a low ebb.”
    “Then you mean to stay?” She was not sure whether to be glad or sorry. To be living in the same house with a libertine was not a comfortable prospect. On the other