“Yes.” Cecil sat in an armchair next to George, and she realized guiltily that she’d forgotten to offer him a seat. “It’s the title, I’m afraid. It isn’t much of one, only a obscure baronetcy that Grandfather has, but the estate that goes with it is rather large.” Cecil passed the handkerchief over his brow. “Huge, to be quite vulgar.”

“And you wouldn’t want the child inheriting it?” Tony spoke quietly.

“No. That is, yes,” Cecil gasped. “Whole point of the proposition, isn’t it? Having an heir? No, the problem is in my aunt. Aunt Irene, that is. The bally woman has always blamed me for being next in line to inherit.” Cecil shuddered. “Fact is, I’d be afraid to meet the old bat in a dark alley. Might take the opportunity to make the succession a little closer to her own son, Alphonse.”

“Fascinating as this family history is, Cecil, old man, how does it pertain to Georgie?” Oscar asked. He’d sat up during Cecil’s recitation.

“Well, don’t you see? Aunt Irene might challenge any heir that arrived, er, a little early.”

Tony stared. “What about your younger brother, Freddy?”

Cecil nodded. “Yes, I know. A sane woman would see that too many stood between her Alphonse and the inheritance, but that’s just it. Aunt Irene ain’t sane.”

“Ah.” Tony sat back, apparently in thought.

“So what are we to do?” George just wanted to retire to her rooms and go to sleep.

“If t’were done, t’were best done quickly,” Oscar said softly.

“What?” Cecil knit his brow.

But Tony sat up and nodded. “Yes. You’ve mangled the quote, of course, but you’re quite right.” He turned to Cecil. “How soon can you get a special license?”

“I . . .” Cecil blinked. “In a fortnight?”

Oscar shook his head. “Too long. Two, three days at the most. Knew a fellow got one within a day of applying.”

“But the archbishop of—”

“Canterbury’s a personal friend of Aunt Beatrice’s,” Oscar said. “He’s in London right now. She was telling me only the other day.” He clapped Cecil on the back. “Come on, I’ll help you find him. And congratulations. I’m sure you’ll make an excellent brother-in-law.”

“Oh, er, thanks.”

Oscar and Cecil slammed out of the room.

George looked at Tony.

He turned down one corner of his wide mouth. “You’d better start looking for a wedding dress, Georgie.”

Which was when George realized she was engaged— to the wrong man.

She grabbed the basin just in time.

THE RAIN POUNDED DOWN. Harry stepped unwarily and sank ankle-deep in oozing muck. The entire road was more a moving stream than solid ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Bennet panted from atop his horse. “I think I’m growing mildew between my toes. I can’t believe this rain. Can you? Four days straight without any letup.”