He led them into the drawing room that Margot remembered from her childhood. The last time she’d been here, it had been furnished with Aubusson carpets and crystal chandeliers. The carpets were gone, and elegant chandeliers had been replaced by wooden wheels sporting cheap tallow candles. Moreover, the room had not been cleaned—the floors were unswept, and evidence of dogs and rodents apparent along the baseboards. Papers and books were strewn across the writing desk and spilled onto the floor. And the hearth was burning peat.

“May I offer you some wine?” Putnam asked.

“Thank you. You’d not believe the journey we’ve had!” Margot said. “It was impossible for us to avoid calling on you so unexpectedly, my lord. But the road to Keswick has fallen into severe disrepair since last I was in England, and I began to feel quite ill, what with all the bouncing. Knox insisted that we must keep on, that it would be quite untoward to call on someone without invitation. But I assured him that you would welcome us for a night.”

“Yes, the roads are quite unbearable,” Putnam said, and downed the glass of wine his butler had given him, then thrust it back at him for more before the butler had even poured for Margot and Knox.

When the butler served the wine, Margot found it to be sour and unfermented. It was the sort of wine that was made in kitchens. Knox took his and wandered around the room.

Margot fixed her smile on Putnam and moved closer. “How does your father fare?”

“Oh, he...well, he’s unwell.”

“I’m so very sorry,” she said softly. “You must give him my regards and wishes for good health.”

“Of course.” Putnam was watching her warily.

Margot moved closer. “I am very happy to find you home, my lord. Do you recall that night we played Commerce? There were ten of us in all, were there not? I recall those days of our youth with great fondness.”

He scratched at his head. “I think I lost quite a lot of money that night.”

She laughed. “We were only learning the game.”

“Yes,” he said vaguely. He looked around him almost helplessly, as if he didn’t know what to do with her, or the room, or even himself. He seemed quite ill at ease and suddenly downed the wine and handed his glass to the butler for more.

Margot considered the options she and Knox had discussed. Knox had some idea of where the old dungeons were. His plan was to find the opportunity to have a look while Margot kept Putnam engaged with a game. Judging by the look of the place, she decided he would be very interested in Arran’s purse she had beneath her skirts. Margot smiled and lifted her glass in a mock toast to Putnam.