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convenience. Pray, sir, set whatever date you will, that fits in with all the propriety you wish.”
    She stood, bringing them all to their feet. She cast Jamie a dripping smile. “Indeed, sir, I am anxious!”
    â€œThen, Jamie, we shall see to the legal turn of events,” Charles said, still elated. “My dear!” Very tenderly, he kissed both Maggie’s cheeks. Her eyes were downcast as he did so. She gave no sign that she was anything but pleased; not so much as a tremor stirred her body.
    Charles strode toward the exit, then stopped, turning back. “Justin, Angus, my deepest thanks. We will meet later. And Maggie . . . I swear, lady, I will make you happy.”
    He was gone. Clayton, as astute as he appeared to be, barely made it in time to open the door for his departure.
    Jamie bowed his head to the two men. “Justin, Angus, I thank you as well. And Maggie, dear, dear Lady Maggie!”
    Before she could snatch her hands away, he had caught them. He bowed low over them, this time keeping a grip hard on her, brushing her fingers firmly with a kiss. “It’s a delight to make your acquaintance. Why, think on it. We’ve just met, and very nearly, we are cousins.”
    â€œA pleasure,” she said, and it was obvious, in the grating sound that issued with the words, that it was anything but. Still, she was perfectly composed. He could feel the waves of angry heat washing off her, but she knew that her hands were caught, and she wasn’t about to allow herself the indignity of a struggle with him. “Indeed. It’s lovely to see that Lord Charles has such a staunch and loving relation to protect his interests. Tell me, do you reside with Charles?”
    It was a question. It was a statement, as well. If he resided with Charles at the moment, he certainly wouldn’t be doing so after the wedding!
    â€œNo, alas, I do not. I keep a town house for those occasions when I am in London. Uncle Charles lives at Moorhaven, an estate just beyond London. He does, however, have rooms at the club, and he is, naturally, welcome in my home at all times.”
    â€œCharming,” she murmured, attempting a tug at her hands. She looked smoothly toward the doorway. “I believe your uncle will be waiting.”
    â€œIndeed. And I would not postpone your nuptials for an instant! Good day, my lady, good sirs!”
    He released her hands at last. She almost managed not to snatch them back. Not quite. She loathed him. And whatever game they played before others, they both knew it. It mattered not in the least. He would be watching her. And if she betrayed her elderly husband in any way . . .
    She would know that he was watching.
    He didn’t look back, but exited the house with long strides.
    * * *
    â€œHow ghastly!” Maggie exclaimed.
    â€œYou’re right. He’s not just old. He’s ancient,” Justin agreed. “Maggie, it’s off. That’s it.”
    Maggie turned to stare at her brother. “I don’t mean Charles—I mean the nephew. Sir James.”
    â€œJamie?” Justin said, surprised. “He’s quite a fine chap, really. Always off on the Queen’s business, here and there. He was in the military for a few years, but whatever he does now, the work is special projects. Empire, you know,” he said dryly.
    By then, Mireau had made it down the stairs to join them. Clayton was surely listening from somewhere. He was the perfect servant, and as such, knew exactly what was going on in their lives at all times.
    â€œWhat do you care about the nephew?” Mireau demanded. “Lord Charles is evidently quite smitten. Why, he’d give you the world.”
    â€œYes, I realize that,” Maggie murmured softly
    Justin slumped down into one of the chairs. “I have just sold my sister. It’s as if I have sold my very soul.”
    â€œJustin, stop it, you didn’t sell me, and you haven’t sold your