I glanced up from my computer, and the latest email from Jeanette, as Freddie entered my office. We had been emailing back and forth for the last couple of days and it had become the highlight of my day. The smile on my face died as I looked up at him. He held a folder and his face was troubled. I sat back, twirling my pen between my fingers and I waited for him to speak. He sat on the chair opposite my desk and straightened his suit coat, pulling at his cuffs, before looking me in the eye. Then he handed me the folder.

“What do you make of this?” he asked.

I took the folder and opened the cover, drawing in a quick breath as I saw the front page. I darted a look at him. “That didn’t take long.”

He smiled enigmatically, “I know people,” was all he said.

I looked back down at the first sheet of paper. It was a dossier on Lord Cameron Broadcloth, Viscount of Westhaven. There was a photograph of him and his basic stats - age, height, eye colour, etc - and then a brief family history. He was two hundred and fifty-seventh in line for the British throne. I didn’t think I should concern myself over him ever taking control.

I flipped over the page and my eyes widened. I shot another look at Freddie. He didn’t smile, just got to his feet, rebuttoned his coat and turned to leave my office. Over his shoulder he said, “Come find me when you’re done.”

I nodded and looked back down at the papers in my hands. With a bemused shake of my head, I laid them out on my desk, my other work forgotten. Freddie had a detailed report on the man, right down to his financials and a statement from his bank. I cast my eye over the figures - numbers were my thing - and then I sat back, puzzled. It didn’t make sense. There was no way these figures could be correct, not if I believed what Jeanette had told me. Then again, maybe the information she had was wrong?

I started at the beginning and I followed the number trail. Numbers didn’t lie. By the time I turned the last page, I knew more than Lord Cameron probably knew about his financial status. I also knew that Jeanette had been lied to. Lord Cameron was broke. Not rich broke, as in ‘I can’t afford another Rolex this year, but perhaps next year.’ He was completely and utterly broke. Real, honest-to-god-poor broke. The man’s Berkeley Square townhouse was mortgaged to the hilt and the bank was threatening to foreclose. The Westhaven Estate in the country was practically derelict from neglect and also mortgaged up the wazoo. Lord Cameron was in desperate need of an injection of cash or he would be out on the street, quite literally.

I pushed back my chair, the leather creaking as it tilted back, and I looked at the ceiling, my fingers steepled beneath my chin. Jeanette was under the impression that Lord Cameron was doing business with her brothers and I got the sense from her that he was somehow threatening her brothers’ business if she didn’t go through with the betrothal. Not that she’d said that in so many words, it was just a feeling I got. But the papers in front of me told a different story. Lord Cameron didn’t have a business. He was a titled gentleman who, by all accounts, had done nothing with his life or his wealth. His estate had started haemorrhaging money when a deal the elder viscount had been working on fell through prior to his death. The man had died leaving massive debts, which Lord Cameron had either been not aware of or completely oblivious about. He hadn’t curbed his spending and now he was being called to account.

I gathered the papers together and stood, walking purposefully out of the room and down the hall to where Freddie had his office. I tapped on the door after nodding to his assistant and waited for his command to enter.

He looked up and indicated that I sit. I did and then spread the folder out on the desk between us. “He’s broke,” I said.

Freddie nodded slowly.

“And not just broke,” I continued, “He’ll be homeless within the month unless he gets some funds.”

Freddie huffed out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “I was hoping I was wrong,” he said, “I was hoping you would find some hidden Swiss Bank account with his salvation in it.”

I shook my head. “No. The man is destitute.” I paused and bit my lip before speaking. “What I don’t understand is why he is courting Jeanette. Does she have an inheritance that will save him?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. “She has a trust fund that trickles money to her until she is married and then the full amount will be available to her.”

“Is that enough to save Lord Cameron?”

“There is also a dowry.”

“A dowry?” I knew the term but thought it an archaic one. “You mean, if he marries her he gets a lump sum free and clear.”

Freddie nodded again.

“And is that enough to save him?”

“I believe so. It will pay off most of his debts and then the trust will become available for them to live on.”

“Holy Mother of God,” I breathed, completely staggered by the deception and the gall of the man. “Jeanette couldn’t possibly know.”

“No,” Freddie agreed, “I don’t think so.”

“What about her brothers? Surely they are also unaware? Surely they wouldn’t agree to give this man millions of dollars if they were aware of his complete ineptitude when it came to finances?”

“Martin has never struck me as a stupid man. In fact, I’m surprised that he has allowed the man anywhere near Jeanette.”

“Something else has to be going on,” I said, standing and pacing. The situation made me fidgety and I couldn’t sit still.

“That is what I believe,” Freddie said, “I’m just not sure what.”

“I’m going to see him,” I said, gathering together the papers once again.

“Who? Lord Cameron?”

“No,” I shook my head, “Martin. I need to see his eyes when I tell him he’s being duped.”

“Keep me in the loop,” was all Freddie said as I rushed from the room.

I rode my bike hard. I don’t know why I headed for the winery, except that it was the only place I knew where I might find him. There was a house in town, but I didn’t know where it was, although I was sure I would be able to find out if this proved a bust. I needed the long ride though. It helped to calm me and allowed me to order my thoughts. The only interaction I’d had with Martin had shown me he was thoughtful and measured in his actions. Joshua would fly off the handle, but Martin thought things through before acting. I had to present a valid argument to him in order for him to take me seriously and I was a bit more like Joshua in that I acted first and thought later. The ride along the winding and wet roads helped to cool my ire before coming face to face with Jeanette’s brother.

I didn’t mind the rain, except that I didn’t expect it. I was protected from it by my leathers and helmet, but I would have preferred my wet weather gear. The rain here was cold, unlike the rain at home in Australia which was more temperate and sometimes even warm. The rain also made the trip slower, as I was not fired up enough to risk my life in the wet and slippery conditions. I kept to the speed limit - mostly - and used the extra time to construct the argument I would use against the viscount.

I saw the gates up ahead and slowed to turn into the long drive. The driveway was unpaved but thickly gravelled which absorbed the water but made it a little slippery for a machine with only two wheels. I didn’t bother stopping at the main house and went directly around to the big shed where they had held me the night they kidnapped me. I parked under the large awning next to an old truck and slid off the bike, stowing the helmet in the pannier. The rain drummed heavily on the tin roof of the awning and made it hard to hear, effectively disguising my bike’s entrance.

I walked into the large shed, my eyes taking a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. I looked around, but no one was in sight. I strode the length of the space, not bothering to look at the equipment and paraphernalia that lined the walls. I had one thing to do today and that was to confront Martin. I found a suite of offices at the back of the shed and through a window I spied Martin, his head bent over his desk. I tapped on the glass and he looked up, his face transforming to one of puzzlement as he saw me. I waited as he stood and came to open the door to let me in.

“Drew,” he said, his brow furrowed, “Is Jeanette alright?”

“You tell me,” I said, slapping the folder into his chest.

He took it from me and I followed him into the office. He was flipping through the pages even as he sat heavily in his chair. I didn’t wait for an offer to sit and took the chair opposite him, watching his face carefully. I knew the moment he realised what that folder was telling him. His face changed from puzzlement to anger and he looked up at me, his brown eyes fiery.

“Is this true?” he asked.

I nodded. “Freddie came to me with it this morning.”

He swore colourfully and I was a little shocked that the marquess even knew such words.

“You didn’t know?” I asked, although the truth was obvious.

“No, I didn’t know,” he said forcefully and I was impressed that he refrained from using obscenities when he spoke to me.

“Jeanette told me he was here to do business with you…” I trailed off, leaving him to fill in the blanks.

“He was supposed to have connection in the wine industry in London. He promised to get our label into the hands of people who could promote it for us and help build our reputation.”

“And for that you had agreed he could marry Jeanette?”

His eyes flashed. “Jeanette was not part of the deal. What do you think I am? I told you already, I thought Jeanette wanted to marry him.”

“The man is a joke and the way he treats your sister is appalling, or haven’t you noticed?”

“I’m ashamed to say I haven’t,” Martin said, running a hand through his hair. The look on his face confirmed it, the man hadn’t known about Lord Cameron’s financial status and had been oblivious to the way he spoke to his sister. The first I could forgive, the second, not so much.

“You know he’s only here offering for her because he needs her money,” I said, spelling it out for him just in case he didn’t get it from the dossier in his hands. “But what I don’t get is how he found out about the money in the first place. It’s not exactly public knowledge or the press would have a field day with it.”

“No, you’re right,” he replied, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. “It isn’t public knowledge, only the family knows and that was the way I wanted it to stay to avoid this exact issue. There are far too many impoverished gentlemen looking for a way out of their debts at the expense of a woman with a trust fund.”

“So he’s basically selling his title to get himself out of the hole he’s in.”

“Right,” Martin said, drawing the word out, his eyes unfocussed as he no doubt searched his thoughts to find out how Lord Cameron came to know about the trust fund and the dowry. “Oh for goodness sake,” he said and then swore again for good measure. He lifted his eyes to me. “Leave it to me,” he said, “I will deal with this.”

“You know who told him?”

“I have a fair idea.”

“You’ll tell Jeanette?”

“Yes, but first I need to deal with the leak.”

Drew hadn’t yet replied to my last email. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t be worried about it, he was probably busy. I’m sure he had more work to do than wait around for and email from me.

I flicked through the tabs on my screen. I had no enthusiasm to work which was weird. I loved my job and usually made work for myself so that I could keep busy, but not today. Today I was distracted. I felt a little ostracised from my friends over my decision to marry Lord Cameron. I knew they were worried about me, but I honestly knew what I was doing and I was good with it.

I flicked back to my email program but there still was no response from Drew. I stood from my desk with a huff. I needed to stop obsessing over him. He was just a friend. If I was going to obsess over someone then it needed to be Lord Cameron. He was my betrothed after all.

I walked out into the hall hoping to find a distraction. I walked towards Alyssa’s office, maybe Priscilla would have time for a break and we could grab a coffee. I really wanted to clear the air with her. Even after our discussions the other day I still felt that she didn’t see things my way. I was going to need my friends and the two of us had become so close in such a short time. I didn’t want to lose that connection. My moving back to England shouldn’t mean that I lost her as a friend.

Before I reached Alyssa’s office, the door opened and Margaret walked out. It reminded me that I had wanted to talk to her about the hunt.

“Margaret,” I said with a smile on my face, “Do you have a minute?”

Her eyes widened and her face paled. The poor thing looked like she was ready to bolt.

“Um, okay,” she said, dropping her eyes.

“I was just wondering if you needed some help with the upcoming hunt. I mean, I noticed that you didn’t seem too thrilled to know that we all had to ride.”

She blew out a breath and looked up at me, her face not so panicked now that she knew she wasn’t in trouble. The poor girl was so timid I worried that she was afraid of her own shadow. I didn’t know how she survived working with Savannah, the most outspoken one of all of us.

“You would do that for me?” she asked,

“Of course,” I replied, “I’m already giving some refresher courses to Drew. You could join us on one of our rides.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said.

“Nonsense,” I replied, “It wouldn’t be an imposition at all. Do you have your own horse?”

She shook her head.

“You do know how to ride, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes briefly and nodded.

“Did you have a fall?” I was trying to understand what it was that had her so spooked about riding. I could only imagine an accident had put this fear in her.

She shook her head. “No,” she said and then sighed like she had come to decision. “My horse died. I’d had him forever and…” she took another breath and swallowed, “It was a traumatic time for me. I’ve not ridden another horse since.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, not quite understanding why losing a horse would cause someone to stop riding altogether. It was tragic, of course. Losing a horse that you were close to was an emotional time, but to never ride again? There had to be more to that story. “Well, I have another lesson set up with Drew tomorrow, would you be interested in coming along? I’m sure there would be a suitable horse in the stables for you.”

She nodded and opened her mouth to say something when the door to the office opened and Priscilla stepped out.

“Thanks,” Margaret mumbled before scurrying away and leaving me to face Priscilla and by the look on her face I knew I was in trouble.

“Let’s go get coffee,” I said resignedly.

She didn’t answer but followed me through the palace to the dining room. We each poured ourselves a coffee and then took a seat in a corner by the windows that looked out into the grounds. By mutual agreement we chose a place where we couldn’t be easily interrupted.

“Go ahead,” I said, “Say what you’ve got to say.”

“I can’t let you do this,” she said. “I just can’t believe that you are willing to go into this sham of a marriage. Why do you even need to marry? You have a career and a place to belong here with us. I don’t understand why you are throwing all that away.”

“Of course you don’t,” I said, “You have your fairytale ending. You have Dom and he loves you to distraction.”

“It wasn’t always like that for me and you know that.”

“I also know that you were willing to marry the baron to save your father from ruin. Why can’t you understand why I’m choosing to do the same.”

“You think that marrying the viscount will somehow save your family?”

I shrugged. “Not save them, exactly,” I said, “But Mother is sick and for the first time in my life I have the opportunity to make her happy. How can I not take it?”

Priscilla exhaled roughly. “You will never make her happy and you know that. Even if you marry the viscount she will still find fault in you. You know this. I knew that marrying the baron wouldn’t solve all my problems, but it felt like if I made it my decision and not something I was forced into then I had some form of control over my fate. I didn’t see any other options for me.”

“It’s not the same thing at all,” I replied. I was fighting a losing battle. She just couldn’t see that this was the only solution for me.

“Maybe not,” she said with a resigned sigh, “But I still wish you would reconsider. Marrying that man will not somehow turn your mother into the kind of mother you have always wanted. You need to reconcile yourself to the fact that you will never have a mother that treats you like a princess. The woman is so twisted up with jealousy that she can’t see straight. You think marrying a viscount and getting a title will make her happy? Stop fooling yourself. You will outrank her, have you even thought of that? I bet she hasn’t. But it won’t take long and then she will have even more ammunition to use against you. If you think she is unfairly critical of you now, just wait until she comes to the realisation that you will be a viscountess and her only a lowly marchioness - and even that for not much longer. Once Martin marries, she will lose that title too. I can’t see her being happy with being the dowager marchioness, can you?”

I sucked in a breath. The words coming out of Priscilla’s mouth hurt like she was pummelling me with her fists, but I couldn’t deny the truth of what she was saying, even if I wasn’t willing to acknowledge it.

She looked at me with pity and I hated it. I hated that she was right and I hated that I would never be the daughter that my mother had always wanted. She would never be the mother I always wanted either and realising that was like learning of a death. I was not yet willing to accept that my mother would never love me like I had always wanted her to.

I stood, not able to hear any more. “Thanks,” I said coldly. “I will take it under advisement.”

“Jeanette—”

I didn’t stop as I walked away. I was too upset and I needed to get out of the palace and spend some time on my own.