Brilliana and her uncle sat in the upstairs parlor at Papa’s house, which no one seemed to use anymore, judging from the thick layer of dust on the mantel and the lack of coal in the grate.

Now that she’d had a chance to examine more closely the paper Uncle Toby wanted her to copy, she thought it was a French bill of exchange. She couldn’t be sure, but it certainly looked like the English ones she’d dealt with in running Camden Hall.

How stupid did he think she was, assuming that she’d believed his absurd story about the document’s exonerating Papa? That was downright insulting. Clearly, he wanted the name and some numbers changed so he could turn a legitimate bill of exchange belonging to someone else into one he could gain cash with.

“Niece, this is taking an inordinate amount of time,” he complained as he peered over her shoulder.

“Do you want it to look right or not?”

She needed to get him away from her. If she could alter her copy in a spot that didn’t typically change, then if she was accused of anything later, she could point to her deliberate error to prove that she hadn’t had any fraudulent intent. It had to be subtle enough to escape his detection, but clear enough that a bank would notice it.

Perhaps a change to the fancy artwork at the top—would he notice that?

“Would you please stop looking over my shoulder?” she complained. “I can’t work with you making me so dreadfully nervous.”

“Fine,” he muttered, and rose to go look out the window.

Thank goodness. Swiftly, she considered the artwork. What about the griffin? It seemed to be part of the bank’s emblem, so surely the bank would notice if it were changed into a dragon.

No, that was too like. A winged stallion, like Pegasus?

Yes. Perhaps that would work.

While her uncle was away from the table, she toiled over her altered copy of the image. But the longer she worked on the paper meant to “exonerate” Papa, the angrier she got. How dared Uncle Toby try to drag her into his criminal enterprise?

He left the window to pace the room. Why was he so fidgety? What more was he planning?

At least one good thing had come out of this. Since her uncle had insisted on sneaking into the house so Papa and Jenkins wouldn’t know they were around, she had to believe that Papa wasn’t part of the counterfeiting scheme.

Unfortunately, with no one knowing she was in the house, even if Niall thought to come here looking for her, Jenkins would turn him away.

She worked in silence, taking as much time as she dared. Uncle Toby had just turned toward her, obviously annoyed, when a sound wafted up from the floor below.

“I need to see my niece, blast you!”

Aunt Agatha? What the devil? How had she known to come here?

There was a long silence, during which Brilliana could imagine Jenkins trying to dissuade Aunt Agatha.

It clearly didn’t work, for the bellowing voice continued. “What fustian! I know she’s here, sir. I must see her. Now.”

“Why has she come?” Uncle Toby hissed.

“I have no idea. But if you don’t let me go talk to her, she will make a ruckus until you do. Or worse yet, search every room until she finds me.”

As if her aunt had read her mind, the woman shouted, “Brilliana? Where are you? I must speak to you at once!”

“Well?” Brilliana asked her uncle. “Shall I go down?”

Uncle Toby scowled. “Only if you can get rid of the woman.”

“I shall try.” Thank goodness for Aunt Agatha. She had an uncanny ability to recognize when something was amiss.

Her noncommittal answer seemed to give him pause. “I’ll go with you, my dear.”

His insistence on accompanying her would have distressed her if not for one thing. Uncle Toby was no match for Aunt Agatha. No one ever was.

Brilliana waited until his back was turned, then surreptitiously grabbed the paper she’d been copying, as well as the half copy she’d already made, and slid them into her apron pocket.

Then she let him hurry her out into the hall. “I’m up here, Aunt Agatha! What do you need?”

Her aunt started up the stairs, shouting to Brilliana all the while. “Margrave told my servant that you jilted him!”

Somehow Brilliana doubted that, but she played along. “That is true.”

“What? Have you lost your mind?”

With an eye to her uncle, who was avidly listening, Brilliana cried, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Aunt!”

“I daresay it is. I’m providing you with a dowry—and that is enough to give me a say in your choice.” Aunt Agatha reached the top of the stairs to confront Brilliana. “What in heaven’s name are you thinking, to be jilting a man of Margrave’s consequence?”

Uncle Toby stepped in. “Margrave is a gambler. Who cares about his consequence?” He eyed her closely. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Who told you to come here?”

Brilliana held her breath, hoping her aunt could allay his suspicions.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, sir,” Aunt Agatha said in her most imperious voice, “but as I was walking home I saw the two of you pass by in a hackney. When I questioned my footman about it, he told me that my niece had gone off with her uncle, and that you had given your brother’s house as your destination.”

“You saw us drive by?” he said. “I noticed no one passing us on your street.”

“Brilliana clearly spotted me,” Aunt Agatha said blithely. “She waved to me. Didn’t you, Brilliana?”

Aunt Agatha must have some reason for the lie. “Of course. I’m sorry, Aunt, but there was no time to stop and tell you of my change in plans for the day.”

She waved off the apology. “It doesn’t matter. But I was alarmed when the footman told me of your falling-out with Margrave. Have you gone mad? He’s an earl, for pity’s sake. How could you jilt an earl?”

Brilliana’s father came up the stairs, clearly drawn by the commotion. “What is this?” he said, glancing from Aunt Agatha to her. “What are you doing here, daughter?”

“She jilted Lord Margrave!” Aunt Agatha said, as if that explained everything.

“What?” Papa said. “Why?”

Uncle Toby gritted his teeth. “Because he’s an inveterate gambler.”

“What does that signify?” Papa asked. “Half the men in London are inveterate gamblers. Including her father.”

“Which is precisely why she shouldn’t marry such a man,” Uncle Toby said.

“Nonsense,” Aunt Agatha said. “Sir Oswald is right. His gambling is naught to worry about.”

“You see, Toby? Best to stay out of these matters with the young people.”

As her uncle faced her father in a fury, Aunt Agatha winked at her. Winked! Brilliana had been unaware that the baroness even knew how to wink.

“You may stay out of it, Oswald,” her uncle said. “But I care about her too much to allow it.”

Brilliana had to stifle a snort.

“So go back to your cards and your ridiculous friends,” Uncle Toby went on. Then he glared at Aunt Agatha. “And forgive me, Lady Pensworth, but your niece has made up her mind, so there’s no point to your haranguing her further.”

“Haranguing her!” her aunt cried, with a gleam in her eyes. “How dare you, sir? I will have you know that I have taken that woman into my bosom, yet she has chosen to insult my charity by refusing a perfectly good gentleman. It will not be borne, sir. It will not be borne, I say!”

From there, the matter deteriorated into a melee. Uncle Toby argued with Aunt Agatha, Papa put in his own opinions here and there but was gainsaid at every turn, and Brilliana did her best to stir up trouble wherever she could, because she had a sneaking suspicion that there was a method to Aunt Agatha’s madness—though she had no idea what it was.

Until the sound of pounding on the door downstairs brought the melee to an abrupt halt. “Open this door in the name of His Majesty, William IV!” cried a loud, official-sounding voice.

Brilliana’s mouth fell open. And when she shot her aunt a quizzical glance, Aunt Agatha winked at her again. Good Lord.

Papa seemed genuinely surprised to hear visitors at the door, and immediately headed off down the stairs to see what was afoot. Uncle Toby, however, blanched and darted off to the parlor.

Brilliana hurried after him. Whatever was going on, she would not give him the chance to dispose of any evidence that might be in the house. She entered the parlor to find him frantically searching the room.

He rounded on her. “Where are they, niece?”

As she heard sounds of booted feet tramping up the stairs, she cast him a look of pure innocence. “Where are what?”

“The papers, damn it! The one you were copying and the copy!”

She peered over at the table. “Are they not there?”

“You can see that they’re—” He held out his hand. “Give them to me. Now!”

“I don’t have them. Perhaps they fell on the floor,” she said sweetly. “Did you look there?”

He advanced on her with a look of such rage in his eyes that she stepped back, but then Niall walked in. Brilliana could have wept with relief.

“Are you all right, sweeting?” he asked with concern.

She beamed at him, and threw herself into his arms. “Perfectly fine, now that you are here.”

He gave her a brief buss on the lips, which reassured her that he hadn’t thought she was really jilting him earlier.

Her uncle said, “What in God’s name are you doing here, Margrave?” but she no longer cared about Uncle Toby. She had Niall, and that was all that mattered.

Papa burst through the door next, looking as if his entire world had just shattered. “Toby, the officers are saying you’ve been counterfeiting banknotes! They’re looking at all the money you’ve given me over the past few months. Go tell them that it’s a mistake.” His voice grew frantic. “It can’t be true!”

“Of course it’s not true,” Uncle Toby said soothingly. “It’s a simple misunderstanding.”

“Hardly that, sir,” said a triumphant voice from the door. Lord Fulkham entered the tiny parlor, waving a sheaf of notes in his hand. “We found these among your funds, Sir Oswald. At least a quarter of them are fake.”

“So it’s true?” Papa asked his brother, clearly shocked. “You’ve been giving me counterfeited money to spread around town, you bloody arse?”

Assuming an expression of outrage, Uncle Toby turned to Lord Fulkham. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I haven’t given him a damned thing. If there are counterfeit notes in his possession, they did not come from me.”

Lord Fulkham’s smile of satisfaction didn’t dim. “Ah, but these did.” He opened an apparently empty valise, then removed its false bottom to reveal more banknotes. “These we found in your rooms.”

Though the color had drained from Uncle Toby’s face, he shook his head resolutely. “My brother must have planted that valise in my bedchamber to implicate me in his scheme.” He ignored Papa’s roar of anger to add, “I’ll have you know, sir, that I’m a respectable merchant. Why would I break the law?”

“I don’t know the why,” Brilliana put in, “but you were certainly attempting it.” Drawing the document and its copy out of her pocket, she handed them to Fulkham. “I can’t be sure, but I think this is a French bill of exchange my uncle was trying to get me to forge a copy of.”

As Lord Fulkham looked over the two papers, Uncle Toby shot her a murderous look. “Don’t you see what is happening here, Lord Fulkham? My brother and my niece are in league to blame their crimes on me. I am not the one with the bill of exchange in my possession—she is. And I am not the one with artistic abilities. She is.”

As Papa cast Brilliana a frantic look, Niall stiffened beside her, but she squeezed his arm reassuringly.

She was just about to explain how she’d changed the art to keep the bill from being used fraudulently, when Papa told Lord Fulkham, “Don’t listen to him, sir.” He drew himself up with a heavy sigh. “My daughter is just trying to protect me. She did not do anything. That copy was made by me.”

Surprise flickered over Uncle Toby’s face, but he masked it quickly. “You see? They’re in it together.”

“No, we’re in it together, Toby,” Papa bit out. “The jig is up.” Facing Lord Fulkham, he held out his wrists in an expression of resignation. “I will tell you everything, sir. Just take us both away, and leave my daughter be.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake, Papa chose now to show he cared about her? “Lord Fulkham, my father had naught to do with—”

“Be quiet for a moment, Mrs. Trevor,” Fulkham ordered before turning to her father. “If that is so, sir, then tell me this.” He held up the original bill of exchange. “What sort of mythical creature appears in the emblem on this paper?”

As relief coursed through Brilliana, Papa blinked. “Mythical creature? What the bloody hell do you mean?”

“The artwork contains a mythical creature. The artwork of both contains a mythical creature. What particular mythical creature is on this piece of paper?”

Papa looked as if he might faint right there. “Mythical . . . hmm . . . A dragon?”

Thank goodness she hadn’t chosen the dragon.

Smirking, Lord Fulkham turned to her. “And what would you say is on there, Mrs. Trevor?”

She grinned. “A griffin on the original. The copy has a winged horse.”

Lord Fulkham nodded. “Very clever of you, my dear. It seems you are not so bad at subterfuge, after all.”

“You . . . you altered it, you damned bitch?” her uncle cried.

She glowered at him. Now his true colors came out. “That’s what you ordered me to do, isn’t it? I seem to recall your saying that I needed to make only a few changes. So I did.”

As if realizing he’d given himself away, her uncle began to sputter, “This is not . . . I have friends, good friends in the government, who will not tolerate—”

“Take this scoundrel away, will you?” Lord Fulkham called to some men in the hall. As the officers entered to seize Uncle Toby, Fulkham added, “Judging from what Mrs. Trevor was able to copy, you were planning to run, weren’t you? With a few simple changes to the name and the amounts, a ‘respectable man of business’ like you would have easily been able to get some foreign bank to honor the bill of exchange.”

Uncle Toby’s expression showed nothing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my lord.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lord Fulkham said. “Thanks to your niece and her fiancé, we have plenty of evidence against you.” As they took Uncle Toby out, Lord Fulkham smiled at her. “A pity that you have no interest in this sort of work, Mrs. Trevor. I could use a woman like you.”

Niall tugged her close. “Over my dead body.”

“I will overlook your impertinences, Margrave,” Lord Fulkham drawled, “since this turned out well. But it could easily have gone wrong, Lady Pensworth’s help notwithstanding.”

“I knew something was up when she arrived,” Brilliana said. “She was behaving very oddly.”

“You can thank Margrave for that,” Lord Fulkham said. “He sent her here to distract Payne and make sure he didn’t harm you, while Margrave and I marshaled our resources.”

She gazed fondly up at Niall. “How very clever of you.”

“Yes, but thanks to his insistence on acting now,” Lord Fulkham grumbled, “we still don’t have the men who did the forgeries for Payne.”

“If I hadn’t acted now,” Niall pointed out, “Payne would have fled. And you know it.”

“Probably. I daresay your father’s losing that one note to you made Payne nervous enough to fear he was on the verge of capture.” Fulkham sighed. “Besides, I’m not sure we ever can apprehend his cohorts, given that they’re likely in France. We’ll have to work with the French authorities on that.”

“What will happen to Papa now?” Brilliana asked.

“Since he had no intent to defraud, I can make a good case for not charging him at all. Especially once I tell the magistrate how you and Niall assisted in your uncle’s capture.”

Papa gaped at her. “You . . . you knew about the counterfeits this whole time?”

She nodded. “Lord Fulkham said that if I wanted to keep you from being hanged, I needed to find out what was really going on. And he enlisted Niall to help me.”

Her father clutched his cane. “You did that for me?”

“I couldn’t see you hanged, Papa,” she said softly.

He digested that a moment, then turned to Lord Fulkham. “Is that what will happen to my brother? Is he going to hang?”

“I’ll do my best to see that he only receives transportation, sir. After all, I owe your daughter for catching him.”

“Don’t spare him on my account,” she said with a sniff. “He tried to frame my father for counterfeiting. I can never forgive him for that.”

Fulkham nodded. “We’ll talk more about it later. But for now, I must go oversee the men who are gathering evidence.”

As he went out, Aunt Agatha pushed her way in.

Brilliana rushed over to hug her. “Oh, Aunt, I do adore you,” she said. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“If something had happened to you, my dear,” Aunt Agatha murmured, “I don’t know what I would have done. You are essential to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes. And I feel the same about you.”

Drawing back to blot her eyes with a handkerchief, Lady Pensworth took a deep, steadying breath. “Enough of that now.” She shot Papa a furtive glance. “I am happy to be the one relation who hasn’t let you down.”

“To be fair,” Niall broke in, “Sir Oswald wasn’t entirely to blame for brokering Bree’s marriage to Trevor. Payne had a part in that, too.”

“What!” Brilliana and Aunt Agatha exclaimed in unison.

Niall smiled at Brilliana. “Your father asked your uncle to help him pay off the debt to Captain Trevor, so you didn’t have to marry anyone you didn’t want, but your uncle refused to lift one finger on your behalf. In fact, he urged your father to accept Captain Trevor’s suggestion of an arranged marriage.”

“Why, that . . . that lying weasel!” she cried. “Now I really hope he hangs!”

Her father stepped forward. “Ah, but it wasn’t his fault in the end, daughter. I could have refused the captain’s offer, come hell or high water. Instead, I made you feel you had no choice but to accept it.” He hung his head. “And I have never regretted anything so much in my life. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

She stared at him, her heart twisting in her chest. She’d never expected to hear such words come from his mouth. He was still a negligent wastrel, but in light of recent revelations, she couldn’t think quite as ill of him as before. Especially after what he’d just attempted to do for her.

“You offered to go to prison for me, Papa,” she said softly. “I’d be an ungrateful daughter indeed to stay angry with you after that. So, yes, I forgive you.”

“Well,” he said in a relieved voice, “it was the least I could do, considering that you married Reynold Trevor to keep me out of prison.” He cast her a rheumy smile. “So, does that mean you’ll let me see my grandson at last?”

“It does.” She cast Niall a teasing glance. “But it may have to wait until after the wedding, since I believe that will be occurring soon.”

“Quite soon, if I have my way, sweeting,” Niall said.

“I beg your pardon?” Aunt Agatha exclaimed. “After everything I have put up with from you two, I believe I’ve earned the right to see my niece wed in a grand ceremony befitting a future countess. She deserves it, and I can afford to pay for it. So that is what we’ll do.”

Brilliana appealed to her fiancé. “Niall, do tell her—”

“Who am I to gainsay your aunt? If she wants a grand ceremony, she can have one.” He took her hands in his. “As long as I’m the groom, I don’t care when or how we marry, my love.”

She stared into his eyes, her heart so full she could hardly bear it.

Aunt Agatha cleared her throat. “Come, Sir Oswald.” She took Papa by the arm. “Let’s go see if we can find some tea in this place. I am positively parched.”

As they walked out, Papa muttered, “So am I, but it ain’t for tea.”

“Come to think of it,” her aunt said, “a bit of brandy in the tea wouldn’t be amiss.”

She closed the door, and Brilliana and Niall burst into laughter.

Then it dawned on both of them that at last they were alone . . . or as alone as they could be with men tramping about the house. And suddenly she didn’t know quite what to say to him.

She remembered only too well how they’d left things last night, and all she seemed able to do was stare down at her hands as she gathered her thoughts.

“Please tell me you’re not planning to jilt me again,” he drawled. “I can only endure one jilting per day.”

“Niall, don’t tease. I have something very serious to say to you.”

With a squeeze of his hands, she met his gaze. Her heart broke to see the uncertainty in the beautiful hazel eyes she loved so well. She had put that uncertainty there with her fears.

And now she would banish it for good. “Last night, you were right when you said I was afraid to trust my heart. But in my defense, once a body’s heart is broken, even after it mends you feel as if it’s too fragile ever to be taxed again. So you coddle it and keep it wrapped up in wool, so it won’t get scarred or torn or even scratched.”

Tears welled in her eyes that she swallowed ruthlessly. “But this morning, when I sat there listening to Uncle Toby’s idiocy about jilting you, I realized that my heart is stronger than I thought. It believed in you when I couldn’t, it waited for you when I couldn’t. And it loved you even when I couldn’t.”

She smiled tremulously. “As it turns out, it didn’t need protecting after all. It just needed me to take it out of the wool and let it breathe. And now it’s doing precisely what it always wanted: loving you. Freely. As apparently I always have.”

A smile broke over his face more beautiful than any sunrise, and he bent to touch his forehead to hers. “That’s the nice thing about hearts. They’re stubborn as the very devil. Since mine has been longing for you all these years, too, what do you say we give them what they want?”

She nodded, so full of happiness and joy that she could hardly speak.

Niall kissed her with the sweet, deep love of a man who knew her, body and soul, and then he kissed her again for good measure.

When finally he drew back, he wore that rakish smile she adored. “So, no more jiltings?”

“Never again, my love. You’re stuck with me now.”

With a chuckle, he took her arm in his and led her toward the door. “It’s about damned time.”