‘Your aunt’s right.’ He still had a smirk on his florid face. ‘Your father lost all his money in the stock-market crash last month and didn’t have the guts to face the consequences.’

A loud moan came from her mother, who hadn’t opened her eyes or bothered to acknowledge her daughter’s arrival.

The fight drained out of Eugenie. It must be true. She was finding it hard to accept. Her dear father was so kind, with a ready smile and soft rolling American accent. Her mother had hated it and tried to make him sound more English, but she’d loved it. She wouldn’t have cared if they didn’t have money. They’d have managed somehow. He shouldn’t have left her. How could you leave someone you love? He had loved her, hadn’t he? He had been the only one in her life who had shown he cared for her. Her mother’s one interest was in attaining a high position and moving in the right circles. Her Aunt Gertrude couldn’t stand the sight of her niece … and what the blazes was Albert Greaves doing here? He wasn’t family.

‘Now that you’ve calmed down, perhaps we can sort out this unholy mess,’ her aunt snapped. ‘We have only three days before the bank confiscates the house and its entire contents.’

There was a strangled scream from her mother and Gertrude glanced over her shoulder. ‘Be quiet, Elizabeth!’ She turned her attention back to the girl standing in front of her. ‘At least you’ve got more fire than either of your parents. Your mother will be coming to live with me. I will not, however, be burdened with you as well. Albert will take you in.’

Eugenie ground her teeth but remained silent. They could forget that plan right away, for nothing on this earth would make her move into his house.

‘How old are you now?’ her aunt demanded.

‘Sixteen.’

‘Damn. That’s a bit too young, Albert. It will cause gossip. You’ll have to wait at least a year before marrying her.’

‘That’s all right, Gerti, she can still live with me.’

Eugenie’s stomach heaved as her gaze swept from one to the other in disbelief. She was in the middle of a terrible nightmare. Marry him? He was at least fifty, bloated from too much food and drink – and she’d never liked the way he looked at her.

‘Of course she can. You can get your sister to look after her.’

Her aunt appeared satisfied with the arrangement as Eugenie fought back the bile. What they were planning for her – without her consent – was too dreadful to contemplate.

‘Splendid, that’s you settled, then, Eugenie. You’ll still live in luxury, for Albert is wealthy. That ridiculous school you’ve been attending has made you unfit for any other kind of life.’