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Curious, eh?”
    “I am sure if the ton knew of our true circumstances, they’d be scratching their pates too,” Siusan said. “’Curious,’ they’d say. ’Would have reckoned the Sinclairs were in want of nothing.’ But it isn’t true, is it? Our da saw to that.”
    Grant shifted uneasily upon the settee. “We all have it in our power to change our circumstances.”
    “Aye, we do,” Siusan agreed, “but Sterling isn’t making it easy for any of us with his wicked ways.”
    Sterling raised his brow most innocently. “I only asked the lass to dance.”
    Grant snickered. “Well, you must have done something more to earn two open-palmed slaps from her.” He glanced forlornly at the last few drops of brandy in his glass, and then looked at the nearly empty decanter with a sigh.
    “Too bad too,” Siusan interjected. “Judging by the way all the misses and their mamas were clamoring over the likes of you, Sterling, all you likely needed to do was be a gentleman, and Miss Carington would have swooned.”
    Grant nodded. “You’ve got the right of it, Su. Word is that she is the daughter of one of the most prominent and noted members of the House of Commons. Who knows, Sterling, had you simply charmed the lass, you might have been betrothed to a woman from a respected family by the end of the Season—and been halfway to earning back the Sinclair honor Father demands of us. I have no doubt he would have approved of such a match.”
    “But instead you created a spectacle, and every member of the
ton
was witness to it,” Siusan huffed. “Who knows what your very public blunder has cost us all!”
    Grant leaned forward in his chair, palming the empty glass and thrumming his fingers against its side. “Sterling, you could have at least told me what you planned to do before the ball. Why, I might have been able to stir up a wager for the book at White’s.” Grant set his glass on the table, then raised a hand and moved it before him as though he was reading from the betting book. “A miss of good breeding will slap a duke at Almack’s—twice.” He laughed, obviously quite amused with himself. “I’m sure someone would have taken the bet. Could have made us a few bob, don’t you think?”
    A jolt cut through Sterling at Grant’s words. He sat upright, suddenly wide awake despite the early hour and the brandy flowing through his body.
    Siusan seemed to ignore Grant’s comment. She grabbed the bag from Sterling, plucked out a shiny coin, then tossed the bag back to him. “Pin money.” She flicked her long sable hair over her shoulder as she rose and, without another word, quit the fore-parlor for the passage.
    Sterling cocked his head and listened to her ascend the stairs until her footfall faded from his hearing. He whipped his head back around to face Grant.
    His brother set his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “What is it?” he asked quietly. “What has so aroused your brandied mind that you could hardly wait for Siusan to leave—a bet of some sort?”
    Sterling stared blankly at his brother for some moments as he followed the logic of his idea through.
Could it be possible? Could this be the answer?
    Unbidden, his head began to nod, slowly at first, then faster as he began to believe he had stumbled upon a perfect way to earn the money they now lacked. Sterling reached out and grabbed Grant’s arm. “What do you know about this Miss Carington?”
    Grant blinked. “I dunno. I heard a bit at the club when she showed up waving about a fan of pamphlets and spouting off about her charity.”
    A slow smile eased over Sterling’s lips. “Tell me everything you know.”
    Two days later
    “I did not ask him if I may leave to shop, I just did,” Isobel told Christiana as they walked along Pall Mall in the direction of St. James’s.
    “Y-you just left?” Christiana sputtered. “Why, if my father was only half as angry with me as yours was with you after embarrassing him at Almack’s, I