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over the course of his lifetime spilled out if he made a single misstep. It was too late for missteps now and Sophia herself had seen to that.
    “It is only the welcome bonds of honor, madam, nothing less. We have an arrangement, no matter its beginnings. I must hold to them, by all good faith and fair dealing. I have no other course open to me.”
    No other course, how very true that was.
    “How noble of you,” she said in a gentle undertone, considering him. He met her gaze, looking as innocent and guileless as he could manage. “And to be so good-humored in your pursuit of honor. A rare blending of virtues, I assure you.”
    “Thank you, madam,” he said, bowing slightly from the neck.
    “I had supposed, you know”—and here she laughed slightly but without embarrassment—“that you might have managed to accrue a few more lost wagers in the few hours since we first met. Debt can be a sharp motivator. I am so glad that is not the case.”
    “Hardly,” he bit out.
    “Then, what is the time? Coming up on five? And you are still solvent?”
    “Completely,” he said, not bothering to smile.
    “A man of honor, then. I do so hope you can convince my daughter to agree to this marriage. As I’m sure you are aware, honor is so rarely found in these modern times. One scarcely knows whom to trust.”
    “Madam,” he said, “you may put your trust in me.”
    “Thank you, Lord Ashdon. That is such a relief to know. A woman alone must be so very careful, must she not? ”
    “Most assuredly.” A woman alone. If there was ever a woman who was not alone it was Sophia Dalby. “Now, as to the problem?”
    “Yes,” she sighed. “I don’t know quite how to tell you this, Lord Ashdon, and I don’t quite know how you will manage it, but Caro has come up with the most ridiculous plan for her future, a plan she is completely certain will result in her complete happiness.”
    “Don’t most women make plans for their complete happiness?”
    “How wise you are,” she said, rising to her feet and walking away from him. Her walk invited erotic contemplation. He refused the invitation. “Yes, that is true. But what is not as often true is the decision Caro has made.”
    “Which is?” he said, rising to his feet and walking to stand with her at the large window that gave a slanted view of Hyde Park. It was a spectacular view.
    “Which is this, sir,” she said, giving him her profile to study. “Caro has declined a suit of marriage from you to pursue the life of a courtesan.”
    Ashdon felt his lungs freeze in his chest, felt his ribs curl in to jab his heart, felt his eyes glaze over with red fog fury. The daughter of a whore had refused to marry him so that she could pursue a whore’s life?
    It only took a moment, a long moment, for the red to fade and for his lungs to expand. She wanted to be a whore?
    Very well, then. That made everything so very much clearer.
    “Lord Ashdon? Do you still believe you can convince her?” Sophia’s voice came to him from out of a pink-tinged haze. Destiny, what else to think?
    “Yes,” he said. “I’m quite sure I can.”
    Sophia smiled, a slow curve of her lips, her dark eyes sparkling. “I so enjoy it when things are well managed. To a successful endeavor, Lord Ashdon,” she said, taking a delicate sip from her cup.
    Ashdon felt only the faintest tingle pass over his skin, a warning of … something.
    Well managed? Indeed.

Seven
    THERE was a rout being given at Devonshire House, to which Sophia and her marriageable daughter were naturally not invited, but the Countess Dalby was hosting an intimate dinner for twenty-four, to which Ashdon had not been invited. Things being what they were, Sophia sweetly begged Richborough to give up his seat at table in the cause of Caroline’s matrimony to Ashdon. Richborough complied, sullenly. Ashdon arrived, promptly.
    It was a fine start to the evening’s events.
    Caro was wearing white; white blond over white crepe, a white