Bix tried to console her, but Katherine would have none of it.

“I’ll call on her,” she threatened, starting for the door. “Turnabout is fair play. Fetch me a carriage, Bix.”

“If you’d started that command with I shall kill him, you’d sound just like Sir Richard,” the butler replied, moving no farther than her side. “You can’t do it, Miss Katherine. How would you explain a visit to someone like her?”

“I shall go at night then, in disguise.”

Bix shook his head. “It won’t suffice. Too many people visit her at night. You’d be spotted for sure.”

“She came here,” Katherine protested.

“And she has less reputation to protect. Please, Miss Katherine, calm down and think.”

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t seem to still her agitation. To think she had let such an opportunity slip by. She had to find a way to gain it back.

From out in the entry came the sound of the door.

Bixby stiffened. “That will be Sir Richard. Perhaps he can talk sense into you.” He hurried out.

With no choice but to wait, Katherine paced the library. Why had she become so upset as to forget her purpose? Surely no one who knew Lord Borin would believe that ridiculous tale. Nor would the woman be so foolish as to repeat it in public. Bixby had the right of it: The story was a tarrididdle concocted to sour Constance on a romance that was no more real. As such, the tale had only the power Katherine was willing to give it. She must force herself to focus on what was important.

By the time her uncle limped into the library, she had calmed herself sufficiently to tell him about their visitor.

“And so I let her go without asking whether she had hired the men to follow Lord Borin,” Katherine concluded.

“She’s enough of a witch to do it,” Bixby stated. “Lord Borin never hit her, but I hear tell she beats her maid for nothing more than turning down her bed the wrong way.”

“That’s beastly,” Katherine said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Then you think she had Lord Borin followed because she was jealous? I thought she had a new beau.”

Her uncle scowled at her. “I refuse to ask how you know all this, young lady. Suffice it to say you are not to demonstrate your knowledge before anyone not of this house. Do I make myself clear?”

Katherine drew herself up. “Certainly, Uncle, but you have not answered the question. Why would she have Lord Borin followed and make up that story about him as well?”

“Someone doesn’t want Borin hanging about,” Sir Richard guessed.

“Lord Templeman,” Bixby offered. “He’s the only one with an interest.”

“But would he stoop to this?” Katherine pressed. “Can we be certain Lord Borin isn’t being followed for some more nefarious purpose?”

Sir Richard shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.” He went on to relate the discussion he’d had with Lord Hastings at the War Office.

Katherine felt her concern arise anew. “Then he may indeed be the target of this spy?”

Her uncle’s handsome face was grave. “No doubt he’d make a good choice. He is well known to much of the ton and has connections to the War Office. If someone knew he had been refused by Lord Hastings, they might believe him bitter enough to sell his country.”

“He was refused?” Katherine drew herself up. “What idiot did that? He would succeed at whatever he set his hand to.”

Sir Richard smiled. “No doubt, my dear. But I am certain Lord Hastings had particular criteria in mind when he refused Lord Borin. Our task now is to determine if our young friend is in any danger and make sure he is aware of it. We’ll tell Borin the next time he calls.”

Katherine would have liked to do just that. She was fairly certain, however, that he did not intend to call again. But her uncle seemed so sure otherwise that she let herself hope. It had seemed as if the viscount enjoyed their company, even if he was not courting Constance, or her. But the hours crawled by with no sign of him, and she had to own that her first reaction was correct. Lord Borin had had enough of the Collins family.

The knocker sounded at half past four, and she had to restrain herself from running to answer it. With an understanding smile, Bixby went to do his duty. Her spirits sank lower when a few minutes later he ushered in Lord Templeman.

Constance’s cousin rolled into the withdrawing room in a none-too-clean brown coat and breeches and settled himself into one of the chairs with his customary creak. His pleased smile only served to sour Katherine’s mood further.

“Miss Constance will be here shortly,” Bixby said before leaving her alone with him. She could barely stand to look in his smug face, but she managed a tight smile for propriety’s sake.

“And how are you today, Lord Templeman?”

“Excellent, Miss Collins. Are you enjoying your harp?”

She could honestly smile at that thought and turned to gaze to at her instrument. “Yes, I am. I had not realized how much I missed it. Thank you for returning it to me.”

“Well, don’t just sit there,” he said, folding flaccid hands over his bulging gut, “play something. Let me see that my uncle’s money wasn’t wasted on buying the thing for you.”

Katherine grit her teeth. “Unfortunately, the instrument requires additional tuning. You would not enjoy anything I played. Another time perhaps.”

Luckily, Constance entered then, saving her from further conversation. Templeman did not bother rising as the girl dropped a curtsey and sat across from him on the gilded settee.

“Welcome, Cousin,” she murmured. “How good of you to visit.”

“Duty,” he replied. “It is my responsibility as head of this family to make sure you are cared for. Are you enjoying your Season?”

“Very much. We have attended any number of balls and fetes, met any number of interesting people.”

“Gathered any number of suitors,” Katherine put in maliciously.

Templeman cast her a glance of obvious annoyance before returning his gaze to Constance. “So I have heard. I also heard that despite my warnings, you persist in receiving Lord Borin.”

Katherine opened her mouth to protest, but, to her surprise, Constance spoke first.

“Lord Borin is a gentleman, Cousin. I am pleased to receive him whenever he deigns to call.”

Katherine was not the only one surprised. Lord Templeman blinked at Constance’s determined tone, then reddened.

“Then the more fool you. The man is a dastard. I would not be surprised if he turned out to be this spy that has everyone talking. He will be caught for espionage, you may be sure of it.”

Constance gasped. Katherine sat straighter.

“Rumors like that,” she informed him sternly, “can be very damaging, as I am certain you know, my lord.”

“They can also serve as warnings to the innocent,” Templeman countered.

“But surely you don’t think Lord Borin in league with foreign agents,” Constance protested. “He has been all that is gentlemanly and kind.”

Templeman snorted, turning the vulgar sound into a cough behind his meaty hand. “Your loyalty does you credit, Cousin,” he finally replied. “But enough of this. I had a purpose in coming today.”

As if you didn’t just achieve it, Katherine thought.

“And what would that be, Cousin?” Constance asked politely.

“Your birthday is in less than a month,” he replied. “I thought perhaps I might throw you a party.”

“Counting your money already?” Katherine accused.

“Katherine, really,” Constance chided as Templeman bristled. “That is very considerate of you, Cousin. I would be delighted to have you host such a party.”

“Good,” he said, casting Katherine a triumphant glance. “I have a number of friends I would like you to meet. If you have a few acquaintances you would like to invite as well, send me the list and I’ll see what can be done.”

Constance agreed, and they chatted a few moments longer. Katherine could not bring herself to join the conversation. The man was insufferable, impossible. She was so appalled that after he took his leave, she rounded on her stepsister.

“Do you not see how selfish he is? He presumes to throw you a party but invites his friends.”

“He is simply focused on his own pursuits,” Constance replied calmly. “I grant you he is somewhat lacking in the social arts…”

“Lacking?” Katherine burst out. “He tramples them at will! How can you stand to see your fortune go to him?”

She shrugged. “The money is not important to me. If it makes him happy, he is welcome to it.”

“How can you say that? It’s your father’s money!”

“It is only money, Katherine.” She eyed her sternly. “Keeping it in my possession will not bring Father back. Let it go.”

Katherine wanted to go on fighting, but the look in Constance’s eye was too determined. She sagged into her chair. “Then we are lost, Constance. I cannot help you if you will not help yourself.”

“I am very glad you finally realized that,” she replied gently. “I cannot marry simply to keep my fortune, Katherine. If I do so, I make myself its servant.”

Katherine nodded. “I understand. I do not like it, but I understand. You must do as your conscience bids you.”

“Thank you,” Constance murmured. “Now, I begin to believe you have calculated to the last penny how the loss of my fortune will affect us. What must we do if I do not find the perfect man in the next four weeks?”

Katherine could not resist one last try. “I found you the perfect man. You refused to pursue him.”

“You found the perfect man for you. And you also refused to pursue him. Now, answer my question.”

Katherine sighed. “We will lose the house and Bixby and Emma too.”

Constance bit her lip. “I suppose it could be worse. We might lose each other as well.”

Katherine nodded. “Yes, there is that. Take heart. I shall talk with Bixby and Emma tomorrow. Perhaps they might find a family who needs extra help for the Season.”

“No, we won’t,” Bixby said from the doorway. Katherine and Constance turned to face him. “I won’t leave you, Miss Katherine. Sir Richard and I made do before, and we will again. I’m sure Emma will feel the same way.”

“But if—when Constance loses her fortune, we will not be able to pay you,” Katherine explained, feeling tears starting. “We can’t even afford this house.”

“I don’t need pay, miss, as long as I have family. Perhaps tomorrow I can send word to some friends. Surely we can find a nice house in the country where we can all be together.”

“And we can have a garden,” Constance said with a smile.

And we can grow into old maids together, Katherine thought, but she merely smiled and joined them in making plans. Time enough later to feel sorry for herself. It very much looked, in fact, as if she’d have the rest of her life.

But before she left London, there was one thing she had to do and that was to make sure Lord Borin was safe. If Sir Richard and Bixby wouldn’t help her, she’d simply have to do it herself.

 

–

 

Alex’s day was fairing no better. He tried once again to return to his usual habits. He rose and spent an hour in fencing exercises before bathing and breakfasting. He joined his steward in reviewing his correspondence, then visited his solicitor to check on his financial affairs. Everything was disgustingly well run and efficient. No one needed him in the slightest.

He thought perhaps it might be different with his friends, but he had to own he had chosen a group of remarkably self-sufficient gentlemen with uncommon good sense. He was welcomed at any of their homes; they were pleased to have him join them in any of their pursuits. But no one was involved in anything particularly exciting or entertaining. Giles Sloan was on his way to listen to a niece practice for a violin solo. Sir Nigel Dillingham was being fitted for a new coat. Kevin Whattling was off to another prizefight. It was all very gentlemanly and downright boring.

Whatever way he looked at it, the zest was missing from his life. He wasn’t sure when he’d lost it completely, but he was beginning to realize where it might be found. Even when the intrigue was past, he felt himself drawn to the Collins household.

Perhaps he should simply offer for his sprite. It very much looked as if he’d never get a chance to serve with Lord Hastings. He still could not claim to have learned why he was being followed. He had caught sight of his shadow twice during the day, but the creature was skittish enough that it disappeared if he so much as turned to look. He paid a likely lad to give chase at one point, but only ended up waiting on the street corner for an hour for the young fellow to return, and then with no more information than Alex had to begin with. At least his attempts seemed to scare the creature off for a bit.

But the sheer act of trying to catch his pursuers convinced him that offering for Katherine was the wrong choice. He had to decide: A life of wife and responsibility or a life of daring and intrigue. Surely the latter was better suited to fill the void in his life. He would try again. The next time he was followed, he would not rest until the fellow was captured and questioned.

He had changed into his evening black and started for an early dinner at White’s, as he often did, when he once more spotted the culprit. Alex was strolling along Old Bond Street, where most of the shops and offices were closing up from a long day. A few people hurried past in either direction, going home or to dinner like him. One more moving in his direction was hardly noticeable. But Alex identified his shadow as soon as the creature fell into step.

Alex paused on the corner, trying to think as deviously as his opponent. Chasing obviously didn’t work; he’d tried it too many times to his sorrow. The only one he’d ever caught was Eric Collins, and he knew now that his new opponents were much more cunning. So, perhaps he should let the fellow catch him.

He spotted a hack moving toward him and hailed it. The driver pulled over willingly.

“Where to, milord?”

Alex stepped closer to the box. “Don’t move your head until I finish talking, and then look as if you were checking to see whether you could turn the horses. There’s a man following me. He’s dressed in a long cloak, too dark and heavy for normal evening wear, and he keeps his head low. I’ll give you a quid to wait a moment, then start for White’s. If you come back this way in fifteen minutes, I’ll have another for you.”

“I’m your man, milord,” he promised.

“White’s,” Alex said, loudly enough for anyone to hear. He clambered into the coach, crossed the small interior and let himself out the other side. The driver waited as if making sure Alex was settled inside, then clucked to his horses and set off.

Alex dodged behind a passing coach and ducked into a shop door. Flattening himself against the wall in the deepening shadows, he waited. As he had expected, his pursuer hurried past a few moments later. This one must have been a youth. He looked much too short to be full grown, though Alex could see little in the voluminous hooded cape the fellow wore. His movements were also less confident, as if he were new to the role. Alex slipped in behind him with ease.

He followed him a short way, looking for an opportunity to corner the creature for a private conversation. His chance came moments later as they approached another narrow alley opening to the right. As his tormenter reached the space, Alex dashed forward and shoved him into the shadows.

Then he leaped in after him.