“Soon. He’s engaged to Charlotte Melton, a bread-and-butter miss who is scared of her own shadow. There’s no way the shy and retiring Charlotte would be able to handle those troublesome brats.” Lady Putney rose, smoothing her hair as she did so, her arms pasty in the firelight. “I’ve become quite close with her mother and I’ve made sure they know all about the children.”

“I daresay you haven’t helped their behavior here, either.”

“Oh, I’ve been busy. And soon it will all pay off. Pretty little Charlotte will cry and Greyley will be forced to give the children up. And there I’ll be, their adoring grandmother, ready to welcome them home.”

“It sounds as if you have everything under control.”

“I did.” Lady Putney’s smile slipped. “Until Anna Thraxton arrived.”

“The governess?”

“Yes. She’s managed to do some remarkable things with the children, but what concerns me more is the fact that she has become close to the earl. Too close.”

“Greyley with a governess? I cannot see it.”

“You forget that we are talking about Anna Thraxton. She is a member of the ton in her own right. It is nothing more than a flirtation at this point, but if Thraxton convinces Greyley to wed her instead of Charlotte Melton, we will never get our hands on that mine.”

“Is Thraxton such a threat?”

“Greyley is fascinated. I can see it.”

“What do you need from me?”

Lady Putney flashed a brilliant smile. “I want you to use that considerable charm of yours and win Miss Thraxton for yourself.”

Bloody hell, what a tangled mess. Rupert raked a hand through his hair. “I like Greyley.”

“More than your handsome allowance?”

Rupert’s heart thudded a sickening beat. All his life he’d been taught to demand the best and to do whatever was necessary to procure it. And some part of him had seen that Anthony was not that way. He was honest, and generous in a way, and as strong as they came. Rupert admired those traits, but looking deep into his own soul, he knew he wasn’t that kind of a man. He was an Elliot born and bred and there was no way to escape it.

Despising himself all the more, he dragged himself upright, then stood staring down at his mother. God how he hated the fact that he was her offspring, that he shared her blood and her vanity and every other ugly thing about her. “I’ll do what I can to attach Miss Thraxton’s affections. But I warn you, if Greyley protests even once, I will cease.”

Lady Putney smirked. “He won’t. His pride won’t let him.”

“I wish I had that same pride,” Rupert muttered, turning toward the door.

She placed a hand over his arm, her eyes gleaming with avarice. “You never will. You are an Elliot and there is nothing you can do to change that.” Laughing lightly, she returned to her dressing table, where she began applying a thick green cream to her face. “Miss Thraxton rides every morning. Perhaps that would be the best time to begin.”