Oscar looked up from the window and exchanged glances with Tony.

“We’ll give you time,” Tony said, and the sympathy in his eyes made her want to cry.

George bit her lip and turned to a nearby wall of books. She trailed a fingertip over the spines. Behind her she heard Ralph say, “Up for a bit of a ride, Oscar?”

“What?” Oscar sounded irritable—and like his mouth was full again. “Are you mad? It’s begun to rain.”

A sigh. “Come with me, anyway.”

“Why? Oh. Ooh. Yes, of course.” Her two younger brothers quietly exited the room.

George almost smiled. Oscar had always been the least perceptive of her siblings. She turned to look behind her. Tony was frowning into the fire. She winced. Oh, damn, she’d forgotten to tell him yesterday.

Tony must have uncanny peripheral vision. He glanced up sharply. “What?”

“Lord, you’re not going to like this. I meant to tell you right away and then . . .” She turned over a palm. “I’m afraid there’s another sisterly problem you must deal with.”

“Violet?”

George sighed. “Violet has gotten herself into a bit of a fix.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“She was seduced this summer.”

“Bloody hell, George,” Tony said, his voice more sharp than if he’d yelled. “Why didn’t you tell me at once? Is she all right?”

“Yes, she’s fine. And I’m sorry, but I only got the story out of her yesterday.” George blew out a breath. She was so weary, but it was best to get it over with. “She didn’t want to tell you; she thought you’d make her marry him.”

“That is the usual response to a lady of good family being compromised.” Tony frowned at her, his eyebrows ferocious. “Is the fellow suitable?”

“No.” George pressed her lips together. “He has been threatening her. He says he’ll expose her if she doesn’t marry him.”

He stood still for a moment before the fireplace, a big hand propped against the mantel. One forefinger tapped slowly on the marble. She held her breath. Tony could be unbelievably stuffy and conventional at times. It probably came from growing up the heir.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said abruptly, and George let out her breath. “Who is this man?”

“Leonard Wentworth. It took me forever to get it out of her. She’d only tell me when I promised that I wouldn’t let you force her into marriage.”

“Glad to know I’ve been cast as the choleric father in this drama,” Tony muttered. “I’ve never heard of Wentworth. What is he?”

George shrugged. “I had to think about it, but he must be one of the young men who came up with Ralph this summer. Remember when you had that hunting party in June?”

Tony nodded. “There were three or four friends with Ralph. Two of them I know, the Alexander brothers; they’re from an old Leicestershire family.”

“And Freddy Barclay was there; he didn’t bag any grouse, and the others teased him about it unmercifully.”