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was going to accept your bribe. But I told you, I will not take your blunt. A deal is a deal.”
    â€œI made no deal.”
    Sir Gaspar set aside his plate and cup altogether. “You paid your father’s gambling debts, didn’t you, even if you never held the losing cards? You weren’t the one who took my girl’s dower money and spent it on fast women and too-slow horses, but you paid those chits.”
    â€œMy father’s debts were a matter of honor.”
    â€œAnd his promises are worth less? In my world, a man’s handshake is as binding as an IOU, a gentleman’s agreement, same as play and pay. Hmph. Seems to me you pick and choose what you call honor.”
    â€œOne is only money. One is trading your children.”
    â€œOnly money, eh? I guess I can see why you were mucking out stables yourself. Well, no matter. If you won’t respect your father’s integrity and his intentions, maybe you will respect the law. If you won’t duel, I’ll sue you for breach of promise. See if I don’t. And drag you and your family name through the courts. Asides taking every shilling you have. I can afford the finest barristers in the land. You cannot.” Satisfied he had made his point, Sir Gaspar reached for another strawberry tart.
    West could imagine his horse farm sold, his lands mortgaged, his younger brother forced into some trade to pay the cost. He was horrified.
    So was Penny. “You cannot do that, Father. The scandal would reach as far as France, much less Little Falls. Everyone would wonder what was wrong with me that Lord Westfield had to fight the betrothal. Besides, that is blackmail.”
    Her father brushed crumbs off his waistcoat. “No, that is justice. Obeying the law. What do you call reneging on a contract? I call it a crime.”
    Perhaps West should accept the man’s challenge after all, he thought, and choose sabers. Instead he said, “I call your behavior barbaric. Your daughter does not want to marry me.”
    â€œOf course she does.” Goldwaite turned to Penny at her gasp. “You ain’t stupid, girl. You’ll never find a more pleasing partner.”
    â€œPleasing to you.”
    â€œAnd half the women in London. Just ask Lady Greenlea.”
    West growled at private matters being mentioned in polite company, much less in front of a young lady, especially his betrothed. He should simply run the banker through and be done with it.
    Penny gasped again while West was thinking of murder. So that was his current, colorful flirt, and the color was green. Definitely green. “You would have me marry a womanizer I loathe?”
    â€œBosh. You were kissing him, weren’t you? Asides, I’d have you wed a real man who can give you sons.”
    Before West could stop her, or say anything in his own defense, Miss Goldwaite leaped to her feet. “I am not a broodmare for his stables, Father, nor for yours. I will not do it, I say. Since I am of age, there is no one who will marry me against my will, so you are wasting your threats.”
    Sir Gaspar steepled his fingers over his stomach, unconcerned. “Very well, missy, where will you live if you do not wed Westfield?”
    â€œWhy, here, of course. Grandpapa would never throw me out.”
    â€œNo, but I doubt Littleton can afford to keep you, or the roof over your heads. For sure I will not pay an allowance to some chit who defies me.”
    â€œGrandpapa would take care of me.”
    â€œHe mightn’t be able to, when he has no income.”
    â€œNonsense. He makes ample money on his paintings. I keep his books, and he is very well-to-pass.”
    â€œHah! Who do you think buys those wretched things he calls paintings? The fool wouldn’t take money to keep you, but a Goldwaite pays his own way. So I have an arrangement with that art dealer in London where you send the canvases. I have a whole warehouse full of the scribbles and