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only two steps away. Staring at her, aghast. She reached out for her father’s arm, but he stepped back, out of her reach.
    She glanced to her left and then her right. Everyone was staring. Everyone.
    Isobel covered her face with her trembling hands and shoved her way through the crowd of amused onlookers. She dashed out the door and down the steps to the liveried footman who opened the outer door to the street for her.
    She ran outside and rested her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath. Her father would surely send her away for embarrassing him this night.
    No matter what punishment he chose for her, Isobel was certain he would never allow her to show her face in Town again.
    And Lord Blackburn, the wicked Marquess of Blackburn, was wholly to blame.

Chapter 3
Much of our activity these days is nothing more than a cheap anesthetic to deaden the pain of an empty life.
    Unknown

    Four of the clock in the morning

The Sinclair residence

Grosvenor Square
    A shadow fell over Sterling as someone stepped between him and the light of the single candle that lit the fore-parlor where he and Grant had gathered to share a late brandy. He squinted his eyes and tried to discern from the shape of the silhouette which of his sisters had come down from her bed to chide him.
    “Does your cheek require my embroidery skills, dear brother?”
    Siusan.
He should have guessed from the rigid fold of her arms over her chest.
    “You left so quickly after that miss humiliated you before the
ton.
” Her tone was as stiff as her stance. “I didn’t have a chance to see if you were injured from such hearty slaps.”
    Sterling glanced at Grant, who leaned as far back as possible in his chair, as if it would make him less noticeable to his angry sister. “There wasn’t anything for a Scot to drink at Almack’s, so we left.”
    Siusan strode toward him and set her hands on her hips. “There was lemonade.”
    Sterling chuckled and raised his crystal of brandy. “Allow me to rephrase. There wasn’t anything for a
real
man to drink.”
    Siusan snatched his glass and tipped a bit of the amber liquid into her mouth before handing it back again. “Nay, you had the right of it the first time.” She sat down on a gilt-rimmed settee beside Grant. “So, will you tell me where you went?” Her tone was much softer now, after a taste of brandy, something Grant did not miss, and he quickly filled a crystal from the decanter for her.
    Siusan accepted it, without comment. Her attention still lay with Sterling. “Everyone we met wanted to know you, Sterling. Wanted to hear all about you—and our family. It was almost like being in Edinburgh for the Season again…well, except for the very different way people treated us tonight. Och, it was wonderful…like we were special, our company a gift to all of Society.”
    Grant shifted his golden-green eyes to Sterling. “Mayhap we should have stayed a bit longer, eh?”
    Sterling shook his head. “What is more important, paving our way into Society…or
this?
” He reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a weighty leather bag and tossed it, the contents clanking loudly as it landed on Siusan’s lap.
    His sister looked up at him. Her pupils grew until her eyes looked black, ringed with a thin band of silver. “What is this?”
    Sterling leaned back and grinned. “Seeds to plant and watch grow into a fortune.”
    Confusion etched a fine line between Siusan’s eyebrows. “We used all the winnings from the fight to purchase the requisite finery to enter Society. Where did you get this?”
    “I’m not daft, Su. I held out what we’d need to run the household for another month or two.” Sterling leaned forward and snatched the bag back. “These coins are residual winnings from the bout at the Pugilistic Club. One of London’s best needed a little time to pay, is all. Actually, I was damned right astounded when he admitted he was a bit shallow in the pocket. Comes from an old, respected family.