“Tell Kevin to turn his attention to the viscountess. She would love to devour him one bite at a time.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. “You are easily vexed when it comes to Miss Hepplewhite. I will assume that means that whatever had her fleeing Melton Park has been resolved. You appeared good friends last night.”

“I am not keeping her, if that is what you are trying to ask.”

“I am not asking that, although that dinner dress was far nicer than what the woman who visited Melton Park might wear and I don’t think she as yet has access to her new fortune. I am asking if I should directly warn Kevin off if he inquires about her a third time.”

“Tell him to stay away from her. Hell, tell him to go to the devil.”

He was vexed, and he did not know why. This was not a simple jealousy darkening his mind. The temporary nature of their affair ate at him.

They shared pleasure and a deep familiarity. They shared confidences and, he liked to think, a mutual affection that touched on the profound at moments. She was his lover, but not his mistress, and he had no rights where she was concerned. None. He did not even have the right to warn off his cousins. Or to protect her in other ways.

Nicholas headed to his dressing room. “I’ll have the valet send down word that you will be at breakfast.”

“I have a question before you start your dressing.”

Nicholas turned, waiting.

“Did you find any gold in the house? Coins.”

Nicholas looked surprised, then grinned. “Damn, you are good. I discovered a large stash at Melton Park the day after you left. I opened a drawer in an unused wardrobe off his dressing room, and there it was, behind a false back. Guineas half filled it. I enjoyed an hour of exultant relief before I started to wonder if I had to inform the solicitor and turn it over to the estate.”

“You inherited the ducal houses and their contents. That was part of the contents.”

“So I concluded. It was enough to balance the accounts for at least a year. How did you know about this?”

“Dolores mentioned something about it while telling me an old family story.” A fortune that he could carry out the door. On hand. At the ready. Uncle might have brought gold in, just for the bribe, but Chase did not think so. “I will be in the morning room when you are ready.” He gestured to the chamber. “There is probably more here, somewhere. It shouldn’t be hard to find.”

* * *

Minerva’s advertisement on behalf of Mrs. Jeffers produced results immediately. A letter came that very afternoon. An anonymous one. It said the man she sought, Douglas Marin, lived on Litchfield Street.