It wouldn’t be too difficult, however, to assure that she was destitute, or at least to have her think so, and to that end he said, “If you have any valuable jewelry, you can lock it in my safe while you are here. My servants are trustworthy, or most of them are, but we have a couple new maids that haven’t proven themselves yet.”

“I do have a few nice pieces, from my mother. They would have been sold only as a last resort. There are paintings, however, that I should have sold already. I prevaricated too long, thinking my father would return sooner. I should see to their disposal tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. You’ve no need to sell off your belongings now. You can wait here for your father. He will rectify everything when he returns, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure as well, but I don’t like being without any money whatsoever, and I really did go through the last of our funds for Thomas’s medicine. He will also need more . . .”

“Your furniture is being stored as we speak. I repeat, there is no reason for you to dispose of it. My personal physician is also due this week, to examine my staff—something I arrange for each year at this time—so feel free to use his services for your brother while he is here. But how is it possible that you are completely without funds? Is George Ascot that inconsiderate that—”

“Certainly not!” she cut in indignantly. “But our creditors heard some ridiculous rumor that he wouldn’t be returning and demanded I clear their accounts. And not just one, but all of them showed up at our door. They wouldn’t believe me that he would soon be home. I was forced to deplete my household funds to satisfy them. And then Thomas caught that horrid cold that got worse and worse until I feared . . .”

She broke off, overcome with emotion. Strangely, Vincent found himself wanting to put his arms around her to comfort her. Good God, what an absurd thought—for him. He shoved the inclination aside. He was making progress, in getting her to talk. He wasn’t going to muck that up with some silly urge to fix everything for her, when her plight was all his doing in the first place.

“And then I added to your woes.” He managed to feign a convincing sigh.

She nodded, in complete agreement. She was also back to not looking at him. No matter. He had made progress. She had opened up, and easily. But then she seemed to have a wide range of easily pricked emotions, and it was not difficult at all to manipulate emotions if you knew which cords to yank on. He was learning hers.

“I still don’t understand why you bought our house, or how you bought it for that matter, when it was already sold to us,” she remarked.