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Portugal.”
    â€œSo you’re sending Will to negotiate with the bandits? And you’ve decided to help Lord Warwick after all?”
    â€œYes to both,” Nick said. “You don’t think I’d trust fifty thousand pounds with someone who wasn’t family, do you?”
    â€œHave you told Will yet?”
    Nick flicked a glance at the clock on the wall behind Adam’s well-ordered desk. His brother’s business establishment with its fine walnut wainscoting, tasteful decor, and stunning brass chandeliers bore no resemblance to Nick’s austere office that had been his father’s before him and that Nick had no desire to change. “Not yet. I expect him here at any moment.”
    â€œWhat’s the other ten thousand for?”
    Nick’s lips went taut. “For Diane’s settlement.”
    Adam gave his brother yet another incredulous look. “You’re going to spurn the loveliest actress on the London stage simply because you’re going to marry a blueblood? How . . . puritanical.”
    â€œI don’t take vows of any kind lightly.”
    Adam’s eyes narrowed. “I believe you’re smitten with Lady Fiona.”
    â€œBelieve what you will,” Nick said with a careless shrug. “It’s nothing to me. I merely felt I owe my wife-to-be a clean slate.”
    â€œDoes she know about Emmie, then?”
    Nick cursed. “I should have told her! I had so much on my mind I completely forgot.”
    â€œYes, you should have told her.” Adam eyed his brother warily, then shrugged. “I suppose you could send Emmie off somewhere.”
    â€œYou think I should send the child back to the whore who gave birth to her?” Nick asked angrily.
    â€œI know how distasteful that is to you. What about one of those girls’ schools around Bath?”
    â€œI should pretend my child does not exist rather than acknowledge her to my aristocratic wife?” This was the first time he’d voiced the word wife in connection with Fiona, and it gave him a not unpleasant feeling of possession.
    â€œNow, don’t get so ruffled! I’m only trying to prepare you, to warn you. Lady Fiona will not have an illegitimate child under her roof—much less take on the role of mother to the child.”
    His brother was likely right, Nick realized, his gut roiling. As far as the child was concerned, he had already gone over and above that which was expected of a gentleman toward his bastard. Still . . .
    The door to Adam’s office flew open, and the third and youngest Birmingham brother stormed in. It was as if the mold that created the two elder brothers had been retired when William Birmingham was conceived. Where the two elder brothers were tall and dark, William was only barely past medium height, with golden hair and a more muscular torso than his lean brothers. “What the devil was so important that you sent a messenger to Newmarket to fetch me?” William demanded. “Do you know how much I could have won on the final race?”
    â€œYou’ll get no sympathy from Nick,” Adam said.
    â€œIf you did a decent day’s work,” Nick chided, “you’d have no need to throw away your money at gaming hells and horse races.”
    Adam shrugged. “You know what Nick always says. His livelihood provides all the risks he needs.”
    â€œI don’t believe Nick’s ever thrown dice in his entire life,” William said.
    Nick’s brows nudged down. “Why would I want to? I lose and win fortunes every day—no dice or pasteboards needed.”
    Dust still clinging to his Hessians, William sank into a chair. “What’s so bloody urgent?”
    â€œNick’s getting married tomorrow,” Adam announced.
    William bolted up. “The hell you say!”
    â€œHe truly is,” Adam said.
    â€œBut tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!”
    â€œA perfectly good day for a