The girls retired for the night to their bedrooms. Louisa stayed in Bridget’s room. They all had their own rooms but Regina suspected that Louisa needed a bit of extra comfort that night.

Regina went back to her bedroom and lay in darkness until she was certain the others were asleep.

When she had waited until she could hardly bear it anymore, she rose. She slid on her robe again and opened her bedroom door.

There was no sound throughout the house.

She didn’t get a candle. Someone could see it and investigate. Instead she crept down the hall in darkness. The stairs were tricky. Luckily she had the banister to hold onto.

When she reached the main floor she felt her way using the wall. She had never been in such darkness before. The moonlight slid through the curtains here and there. It created little pockets of silver-white light and tinged the edges of the dark blue. But in between those patches was nothing but deep shadow.

It was a little frightening. Regina found herself holding her breath now and again. Each time she shook herself. She had been reading far too many Gothic novels recently. This was not The Castle of Otranto or The Mysteries of Udolpho. She was not in a lonely castle on the moors. There was nothing to frighten her here.

Still, she couldn’t deny that the house seemed different in the darkness. She moved slowly, carefully. It made everything seem longer. Distance and time were strange and unknowable.

When she finally reached her father’s study she let out a sigh of relief. And, thank heaven, it was unlocked.

She slipped inside and latched it. She didn’t know what time the servants rose but she didn’t want anyone disturbing her. They would tell on her to Father, and that would lead to questions she couldn’t answer.

Regina pulled open the curtains to her father’s study. The moonlight spilled through, illuminating the room. It wasn’t as good as a candle but it would do.

She began to carefully look through the papers on the desk. Surely information about the Duke of Whitefern had to be in there somewhere.

In looking, she found far more than she’d expected.

Father had been right. According to these lists of expenses, their income had been slipping every year. There were tallies of debts far greater than Regina had suspected.

Poor Bridget. She had known about these. Had she not thought to confide in someone? Why had she taken on this burden alone? Regina would have been happy to help.

She understood now why Bridget had spoken to her that morning. She glanced at the clock. Well, yesterday morning. She had known the debts would only get worse.

Regina looked at the papers again. At this rate, it was only a matter of a few years before Father was bankrupt.

How could they have let this go on for so long? Surely Bridget could have stood up to Father and forced him to stop.

The moment she had that thought, Regina dismissed it. She could not force blame onto others. She too had been ignorant. She had sat sewing and reading, oblivious to the issue. They had all known Father’s weakness. She was as much to blame as anyone for her inaction.

She set the papers aside and continued her search. Finally, she found it: in a stack of calling cards that Father kept. She recognized many names, including Lord Pettifer and Mr. Denny. It seemed this was a compilation of the men with whom Father played cards.

Regina took out a piece of paper and wrote down all the names. Then she copied down their addresses. If her plan was to succeed she had to know all the possible men involved.

The Duke of Whitefern was in there as well. It listed him as Lord Harrison, then his title, and an address. Regina was surprised to see the address was in London.

She went to the registry and looked up the Duke of Whitefern. All titled peoples were listed in the registry. There it stated that Whitefern was located on the opposite side of London from her own house.

Regina checked the address again. Perhaps Lord Harrison had an apartment in London? It was not unheard of.

To be certain, she wrote down two copies of her letter. One would go to the estate of Whitefern and the other would go to the London address.

She thought carefully over what she wanted to say. It wouldn’t do to spell out her entire plan. If the letter got into the wrong hands it would spell scandal for her. Well, more scandal than her family was already in.

In the end, she kept it brief:

Dear Lord Harrison,

Pardon my forwardness in writing you. As you may tell from my hand, it is a woman writing and not Lord Hartfield. I hope you allow me to call upon you on your earliest convenience. I think I have means by which my Father may be delivered from scandal. But I shall need your assistance. I hope that you will agree to my request. I promise I shall find a way to repay you for your time.

With best regards,

Miss Regina Hartfield

She addressed and sealed the two copies of the letter just as the sun was staring up over the hills. Every joint ached. Her eyes itched. She wanted to sleep for days.

Instead she made sure the desk was as she’d found it. Then she slipped out of the study and placed the letters in the box to be mailed. She made sure to sign the return address as from Lord Hartfield.

If it was discovered that she, an unmarried woman, had written to an unmarried man—the rumors that would start up didn’t bear thinking about. But there were many reasons her father would write to a man such as Lord Harrison.

After that was done, she retired up to bed. She could hear the sound of the scullery maids setting the fires. Regina had been up until dawn before, reading in bed. But that felt different. Curled up in bed with a gripping story was one thing. Dealing with scandal and secrets was another.

She slipped back into bed and pulled the covers up. Her letter would reach Lord Harrison within a day or two. He would help her. He had to help her. Then she could win their fortune back.

That thought was the last she had before sleep claimed her.