“The bastard,” Suzette snapped, looking ready to smack someone.

“You say father came here?” Christiana asked, returning them to the topic at hand.

“Aye,” Lisa murmured, her worried gaze on a still furious Suzette. “Dicky said you were out at the dressmaker’s.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Christiana said unhappily.

“Apparently Dicky welcomed him and took him to the club for a drink . . . and then on to a gaming hell,” Lisa said.

Christiana sat back with dismay.

“Father was supposed to return home two weeks ago,” Suzette continued the explanations in a quiet voice. “When he did not arrive and we heard no word we began to worry. I sent messages to the townhouse but got no response, and then finally decided Lisa and I had best come to London and find out what had happened.”

When she fell silent, Lisa picked up the tale again. “We arrived in London at dawn and went straight to the townhouse. We found father there in the library. He was in his cups and sobbing.”

Christiana let her breath out on a sigh and asked with resignation, “How bad is it?”

“Worse than last time,” Suzette said tightly.

“Worse?” Christiana could feel the blood rush out of her face.

“He owes less than last time,” Lisa said quickly. “But the estate is still recovering from his first misstep and there is no ready cash or even much to sell.

If father cannot come up with the money, he may be forced to sell the family estate to pay off the debt.”

Christiana sucked in a horrified breath. This was worse than last time.

“We shall be ruined once this gets out,” Lisa pointed out solemnly.

Christiana bit her lip, knowing that was true. “How long does he have to find the money?”

“Two weeks,” Suzette answered.

“Two weeks,” Christiana breathed with dismay. Her mind raced around like a rat in a larder for a moment and then she straightened her shoulders determinedly. “I shall talk to Dicky. We will have to take some money from my dower and—”

“No. You paid last time. It’s not fair that you should pay again,” Suzette argued, and then added grimly, “Besides, it appears that you are still paying for father’s last misstep.”

Christiana waved that away, knowing Suzette was referring to how Dicky treated her. Not wishing to discuss it, she instead addressed her suggestion,

“Suzette, you cannot pay. You cannot claim your dower without first marrying.”

“True,” she agreed. “So I shall marry.”

“In two weeks?” Christiana shook her head. “You cannot find a suitable husband in two weeks.”

“Who says he has to be suitable?” Suzette asked dryly. “Dicky was supposedly suitable and that hasn’t turned out very well, has it?”

“But—”

“Do not fret, Chrissy,” Suzette interrupted. “I have a plan. I just need a little help from you to make it work.”

“What kind of plan? And what help?” Christiana asked worriedly.

Suzette sat eagerly forward and took her hands. “There are always Lords who are land and title rich and yet in desperate need of funds. I intend to find one who is desperate enough that he will strike a deal with me. In exchange for marriage and access to three quarters of my dower, he must agree to allow me access to one quarter of it to use as I wish, as well as the freedom to live my own life.” She smiled widely. “All I need is for you to sponsor our coming out . . . immediately. You have to get us to ball s and teas and soirees and anything else where I can meet and assess the men available. I will do the rest.”