“Everything, all of it!” he cried, sweeping his arm across the table and sending markers and cards and his empty glass sailing and breaking on the stone floor. “I’ve nothing! Nothing at all!” He tore the wig from his head and threw it on the ground, then stood and staggered across the room.

“My lord!” Margot exclaimed. She could feel his despair coming off him in great lapping waves. Worse, she understood it. She’d felt that sort of bone-deep despair three times in her life: when she was told she would be married. When she was told she would return to her husband. And in these last two days, when she thought she’d lost him.

Margot stood up and gathered the coins and markers and went to him before he could pour more wine. “Lord Putnam,” she said, catching his arm as he reached for the decanter. He tried to shake her off. “Richard,” she said, her voice quiet and soothing. “Here—this is for you. And...and this,” she said, and reached into the pocket of her gown for Arran’s purse.

He looked down at the bounty she forced into his hands, then up at her again. “No,” he said. “I won’t take charity—”

“It’s not charity,” she said, and folded his hands over the money. “It’s a loan. You’ll repay me when you can.”

“But I can’t—”

“You will,” she said. “Oh, my lord, you will,” she said earnestly. “I have every faith in you.”

Putnam began to sob, his body racked with them. He clutched the money to his chest as he slipped down and landed on his rump beside the sideboard.

Margot had never seen a man lose his composure so completely, and she was overcome with a strange mix of empathy and revulsion.

“Margot.”

She startled, whipping around to Knox. He, too, was staring at Putnam. “Come away,” he said, taking her by the elbow. “Come now.”

Her brother pulled her from the room, as she was unable to tear her gaze away from the broken man who took in prisoners for money.

Once outside, Knox moved her along much more quickly, and she struggled to keep up with him. He paused at a closed door near the entry and pushed it open. “Your master needs help. He needs to be carried up to his bed,” he said to the startled butler. “Lady Mackenzie and I will take our leave now.” He did not wait for an answer, but he pushed Margot out the door, pausing only long enough to pick up her cloak and gloves.

Outside, the night was so dark that she could scarcely see in front of her.

“Knox, wait, wait,” she said, using both hands to slow his step.

“There is no time, Margot,” he said, and put his arm around her waist as he hurried her down the road.

“But did you—Have you found him?”