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you came here to discuss business, and so we shall,” Lord Chatworth said.
    Barbara hesitated. He gestured toward the settee. Slowly she nodded and returned to the settee, to sink down on the striped cushions. She was somewhat disconcerted when Lord Chatworth chose to seat himself beside her.He placed an arm across the back of the settee so that he faced her.
    “In answer to your previous question, Miss Cribbage, your father holds the mortgages to all but one of my estates, including that of my family’s ancestral home. Also, vowels for several thousand pounds lost at cards,’’ Lord Chatworth said shortly.
    Babs was appalled, as much by the amount as by the disclosure that the earl was apparently a hardened gamester. “But how ever could he have managed to gain possession?”
    “I was told by my man of business that by employing several agents your father bought the mortgages from the unsuspecting holders. He apparently used the same tactics in redeeming my debts for their worth,” Lord Chatworth said. He paused fractionally. “Your father has offered clear titles to my lands and possession of my own vowels as bride settlement.”
    “I go dearly, then,” said Babs, not at all gratified by the knowledge. Her clasped fingers twisted painfully. “I have never been more to my father than an investment, I’m afraid.”
    There was a wealth of unhappy undercurrent in her voice, and that more than anything else brought to light for Lord Chatworth with forcible clarity the parameters of her relationship with her father. Lord Chatworth’s mouth tightened a moment. He had suddenly a measure of respect for the woman seated beside him that he would not have thought to have been possible only several minutes before.
    “We neither of us can afford to indulge in self-pity, Miss Cribbage, if we are to win free of your dishonorable parent,’’ he said coolly.
    Babs’ pulse jumped in her throat at his collective term. His lordship understood, then, and he meant to fight. She stared at his cold expression, noting the firmness of his mouth and the obstinate cast of his jaw. She commented, “I believe you could be as hard as he.”
    Lord Chatworth leaned closer so that his keen eyes could better penetrate through the veil. “Does that frighten you off, Miss Cribbage?”
    “No. It would take a strong man to win over him,” she said. She searched his lean face and his alert gray eyes, liking and at the same time shivering at the implacable determination she saw.
    “Must you continue to hide, Miss Cribbage?” the earl complained. “I hardly think that I can be expected to strike a bargain with a swarm of dark net.”
    She gave the slightest of laughs before she lifted the veil and tossed it back over the brim of her bonnet. She turned to meet his interested gaze.
    Lord Chatworth was treated to his first glimpse of her attractive face. A fine sprinkling of pale freckles crossed a straight nose and highlighted flecks of gold in her large green eyes. Her gaze was steady and met his without flinching.
    “Does the filly please you, my lord?” she mocked lightly.
    Lord Chatworth was unpleasantly reminded of his interview with Cribbage and the man’s insulting likening of his daughter to a valuable brood mare. “I do not wed you for your face, Miss Cribbage,” he snapped.
    “No, it would be for convenience,” said Barbara quietly. She smoothed the veil up over the brim of her bonnet. She felt curiously vulnerable without the veil’s concealment, but she knew that she must now be able to lay all of her cards on the table if she was to win the full partnership that she so desperately needed. “We both have much to gain. The means is forced upon us, but for success we must use it in tandem and to a common end.”
    “A marriage of convenience,” Lord Chatworth agreed. “And when the purpose is accomplished, the marriage is to be dissolved or not at either of our discretions.’’ He smiled faintly at her nod of agreement.