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William needed proper schooling. And Sarah deserved a proper dowry. But now, all seemed lost.
    Where were the papers to prove her marriage - if there was a marriage in the first place? And should she seek answers from a solicitor and risk the chance of being thrown into Newgate for Nightham's murder? Or was it best to stay quiet?
    Her head had been spinning with questions since Nightham's death. But at the moment, keeping quiet seemed the best alternative until she decided what to do. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she thought about the earl. She could not outwardly mourn him because everyone would know of her predicament and accuse her of murder. She had only made things worse by her impulsive actions.
    Her stomach tightened in dread as she thought about her family's situation. It had been two months earlier when she had come across her aunt's ledger. She had met Nightham at a ball days later. Aunt Phoebe rarely accepted invitations to balls because they reminded her too much of Uncle Henry. Phoebe kept to the fringe of Society, living in a small world of close-knit friends and cozy soirees, but it seemed that the ball had been one of her exceptions.
    "Hellooooo! Anyone here?"
    Victoria quickly dropped the ring back into her pocket and wiped the tears from her eyes as William's voice reverberated throughout the house. Her family was home.
    She smiled when she caught sight of the boy taking a flying leap in the hall and landing on his bottom with a pronounced thud.
    "Whew! That was fun, Mama. Can I do it again? Can I?" The boy jumped up, ready to partake in another jump, when Aunt Phoebe held him back.
    Victoria laughed, watching her little cousin wiggle like a worm on a hook, trying to disengage himself from his mother’s strong arm.
    "Enough, William," Phoebe exclaimed. "I declare, you smell like a dead fish. Take off those wet things this minute. You’ve tracked mud everywhere. Look at those stairs, young man."
    Aunt Phoebe looked stern, but beneath that taut expression was a heart as soft as cotton.
    "William, I'm warning you," Phoebe replied. "Not another step or you will spend the rest of today and tomorrow in your room. Do you understand, young man?"
    "Yes, Mother." His bottom lip formed into a large shovel while his blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Before Phoebe had a chance to grab him again, he jumped out of her arms and bounded into the drawing room.
    "Vicki," he cried. "Did you miss me?"
    Victoria grinned as her cousin's muddy shoes thumped across the rug. Unruly golden locks peeked out from a dark blue cap. She pulled him into her arms, swinging him around full circle, then set him down.
    "Well, William." Her wary gaze took in the boy's devilish smile. "What gift have you brought back for me this time?"
    William, known for carrying around tiny creatures of one sort or the other, especially after a trip from the country, thumped his chest with his fist and peered up at her with two of the most innocent blue eyes in the world. "Moi?"
    Victoria raised a finely arched brow. At six, the boy was smarter than most ten-year-olds. "Yes, you."
    "Oh, Victoria, you missed a marvelous time."
    Phoebe walked into the room.  She pulled off her gloves and straightened her lavender traveling outfit, giving William a stern eye at the mud he had dragged in.
    Victoria smiled.
    At forty-years-old, her Aunt Phoebe was still a beautiful woman. Her blond hair, swept high on her head, posed not a streak of gray. Her bubbly personality only added to the beauty of her slender form and her wonderful heart. Though the lady swooned a little too often, the males that swarmed around her seemed to enjoy that feminine eccentricity.
    "I should have insisted that you come along with us, my dear." Phoebe gave Victoria a squeezing hug and stepped back, her eyes narrowing in concern. "The minute I left, I knew I should not have left you alone with that cold."
    "But I'm quite fine, as you can very well see," Victoria said, hiding her