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why she hadn’t had a season, and if that were the case how she had come to meet and marry his brother, but then decided that wasn’t important at the moment. He needed to know if his brother yet lived or not, and since she wouldn’t leave the room with him, he had to find another way to gain them some privacy. His gaze slid over the people milling about the ballroom and then he became aware that the strains of a waltz were starting. Nodding to himself, he glanced back to his “wife.” “Then perhaps you would do me the honor of dancing with me?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t dance. That has always been one of your excuses for not attending the balls during the season. You would not even dance at our wedding.”
    Richard managed to keep from grimacing. He’d forgotten that George had always seemed to have two left feet. Their dance instructor had done his best when they were children, but George simply hadn’t been able to manage any sort of grace on the dance floor and had finally refused lessons. Managing to hold on to his smile he said, “Yes, well, I am willing to give it my best effort now. Will you not dance with me?”
    He held his hand out and she stared at it briefly as if it were a snake, but then sighed and placed hers in it with little enthusiasm and a muttered, “Very well.”
    Afraid she might change her mind at any moment, Richard ushered her quickly onto the dance floor. He found it ironic that she was so obviously less than pleased to dance with him. As a wealthy and titled member of the peerage he had always enjoyed a certain success with women, but it appeared Christiana was less than enthralled with him, and she was supposed to be his wife. It made him wonder what the devil his brother had done to the woman.
    Once in the center of the dance floor, Richard took her into his arms for the dance. She was stiff and awkward in his hold, her face turned away as if she couldn’t even bear to look at him. Richard gave her a moment, hoping she would relax, but she continued to move like a wooden doll, her jaw tense and eyes darting about as if in search of escape. He finally decided just to get it over with and asked, “So am I to understand you thought your husband dead?”
    He didn’t realize how he’d framed the question until the words were out, but Christiana didn’t seem to notice his saying “your husband” rather than referring to himself in the first person. Her head whipped around, her wide eyes meeting his with dismay, but then she seemed to forcibly calm herself and merely turned her face away again, muttering, “You did seem to be.”
    “And your response to that death was to attend a ball?” he asked carefully.
    He saw the flush of shame that rose up her neck, but when she turned her face back to him it was mitigated by anger and she scowled. “Well, what was I supposed to do, Dicky? We couldn’t risk having to go into mourning. Suzie has to find a husband, and it’s your fault she does. You are the one who took Father to that gaming hell. Now he’s apparently gambled his way to the edge of ruin again and Suzie has to find a husband and claim her dower to pay off his debts and avoid scandal.” Hurt bewilderment covered her face and she asked, “How could you take him to one of those places when you knew what happened the last time?”
    Richard had no answer for her. He had no idea why George would have done such a thing. His instinct would be to say greed had led to it because that seemed to ever be George’s motivation. However, Richard couldn’t see how ruining Christiana’s father and family would increase his own riches. He also had no idea what had happened to Christiana’s father “the last time” but it obviously wasn’t good. Sighing, he said the only thing he could and offered a quiet, “I apologize. It was not well done to take your father somewhere like that given his history.”
    Christiana was so startled by her husband’s words and the apparent