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“I didn’t mean to snap,” Cassian muttered, once the man had gone. “You know my history, Richard. You know why I must avoid love like the plague.”

Richard sighed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “I know, I know. But sometimes, love just sneaks up on you.”

“And how would you know?”

He smiled faintly. “Never mind.”

The brandy arrived, and Cassian took a fortifying sip.

“Now,” he asked, “did you invite me here just to chat, or is there something you wished to discuss?”

Richard sighed, setting his drink aside. “There was something I wished to discuss. It’s about the baroness.”

Cassian frowned. “I spoke with her recently. I thought all was taken care of.”

“Apparently not. She wrote to inform me—and therefore you, of course—that Frances has returned from finishing school.”

“Earlier than planned, but I suppose that’s her business.”

“There’s more,” Richard added, leaning forward. “She wants the money you promised to set aside for Frances’s dowry. She wants itnow.”

Cassian blinked, taking a moment to absorb this. “What? Whatever for? Frances’s coming out isn’t till next year. I promised the girl that money, of course, but why the urgency? Is Margaret struggling financially?”

“Not that I know of. Here, I brought the letter.”

Richard handed over a small, crumpled piece of paper with a terse note written inside. Cassian unfolded it and read, frowning faintly.

My daughter and I would bemost obligedif you could send over the sum of money that was agreed upon. Frances may not choose to marry next Season, or at all, and I would not like for her to be doomed to poverty as well as spinsterhood.

I do not mean to sound grasping or greedy. I only wish for my daughter to have thesame prospectsnext year as she has now, beforeother mattersdistract you. I know the money has been set aside, so I do not believe I am asking too much.

Write back soon.

“Well, it’s clear that something has upset her,” Cassian murmured, tossing the letter aside. “She’s underlined so fiercely that her pen has almost torn the paper. And what does she mean by my being distracted by other matters? What matter would distract me enough that I would neglect my niece?”

He spoke the final word in a whisper. He could not, of course, ever admit to anyone that he had a niece at all. It would do Frances no favors if it were revealed that she was illegitimate, and she would certainly be cut out of her inheritance.

Such as it was, of course. The Baron had been known to gamble, and at the time of his death, he was not as rich a man as he had led Society to believe. Without Cassian’s help, Frances would have been in no position to come out or attract any decent man.

Beauty was not, after all, everything that counted in Society.

“I really have no idea.” Richard sighed. “Unless she believes that your marriage will affect your care for her and Miss Frances.”

Cassian opened his mouth to give a staunch denial, but his mouth closed as his thoughts progressed.

Might Margaret feel that way? She had led a hard life. Her love had been torn away from her in the worst way. She had lived with fear, terrified that her beloved daughter would be exposed and ruined. She cared for Cassian, of course, but she had long since learned to push down and ignore her feelings, and concentrate on what was practical and logical.

Cassian had always admired that about her.

“You should assure her that you won’t leave Miss Frances out in the cold,” Richard murmured.

A gaggle of gentlemen had entered, talking and laughing, and Cassian and his cousin were forced to lower their voices to avoid being overheard.

“I don’t want to make the matter worse,” Cassian responded decisively. “Write a note back to her on my behalf. Tell her I’ll consider her request, but that she risks the money being eaten up by other things. Not the Baron’s debts, of course—I took care of those myself. But still. I don’t object to Frances possessing her dowry, whether she marries or not. I’d hoped she would marry—it provides security—but I’d be the last man in the world to insist.”

Richard nodded slowly, thinking it over. “The Baroness is a fine mother, to be sure. Miss Frances is lucky to have such a woman to care for her. I still think you should visit them and straighten things out.”

Cassian said nothing for a moment, drumming his fingertips against the brandy glass.