When Sophia had stopped screaming with excitement, had hugged her friend twice and had rushed off down the corridor to find the Squire and Mrs. Marchment, Jane sat back with a sigh.

She had spoken the truth when she said that she was delighted to have her brother back, but his plans had taken her by surprise. She had expected him to want nothing but peace and rest after the privations and hardship of his life on campaign, but instead he had insisted on the entertainment and company of the capital. Lady Verey’s enthusiastic acquiescence had made Jane’s heart sink. She had not imagined that she would need to set foot in London.

She knew that her mother was thinking to bring her to Lord Philip’s attention again in the hope that the Delahaye match might be saved, or, if that were not to be, that Jane might attract the interest of some other gentleman of means. Simon’s return had staved off the most immediate threat of penury, of course, but she still had little alternative than to marry. She could not be a drain on her brother’s limited resources indefinitely.

London. In view of the way she had disposed of Lord Philip, this was particularly awkward. Jane frowned. Her conscience had been troubling her, not about the way she had deceived Lord Philip by her appearance and behaviour, but over the necessity of omitting certain facts when she spoke of it to her mother.

For some reason, she had not anticipated ever having to see Lord Philip again and she was annoyed with herself for not considering the possibility. It would be very difficult to think up a convincing explanation for the sudden transformation in her appearance.

Of course, she might not even meet Lord Philip in London, but matters could become awkward if she did. Jane heaved another sigh. Thank goodness that no one else knew the embarrassing truth about Lord Philip’s foreshortened visit to Ambergate. It was not an episode of which she was proud but, given a little time, she was sure that she could come up with a plausible explanation for her behaviour.

The night watchman greeted the gentleman with the news that it wanted but ten minutes to two and the weather was fine. The butler at the house in Berkeley Square gave him the further intelligence that his brother was awaiting him in the library. Lord Philip Delahaye thanked both of them and tipped neither. The butler watched him go into the room and shook his head very slightly at the distinct unsteadiness of his lordship’s gait.

The library was lit by the fire and one candle only. Lord Philip, coming to an abrupt halt just inside the door, said uncertainly, ‘Alex?’

‘Sit down, Philip.’

Alexander, Duke of Delahaye, spoke from the depths of the wing chair placed before the fire. He put his book to one side and got to his feet. ‘A drink, little brother? Or have you already had enough for one evening?’ There was the faintest, mocking undertone in his voice and, as always, it put Philip on the defensive.

‘Devil take it, Alex, it’s not even two o’clock yet! I’d only just got to Watiers as it was!’

‘Not broached your third bottle yet? My apologies for finding you too soon,’ his brother returned drily. ‘Unfortunately, there was-is-a matter of some urgency I wished to discuss with you.’

There was silence. Philip watched a little sulkily as his brother crossed to the table and poured two glasses of brandy. He took one with a grudging word of thanks and sat down. Unlike the Duke, who was casually if elegantly attired, Lord Philip was in evening dress of a high dandyism. He felt rather than saw his brother’s dark gaze skim him with thoughtful consideration and stiffened. Why was it, he wondered, that Alex could look so effortlessly elegant in his disarray whilst he had spent hours before a mirror and was still discontented with the result?

To make himself feel better he said spitefully, ‘You look a little dishevelled, Alex. Been entertaining a lady?’

‘No,’ the Duke said indifferently. ‘I have been waiting for you to come and explain to me why you are in Town rather than courting Miss Verey in Wiltshire.’

Lord Philip took a pull on his brandy. He felt he needed it. ‘I did go to Wiltshire…’

‘I know. And then you came back the following day. Why?’

There was nothing for it but the truth. ‘The girl’s a freak,’ Lord Philip said viciously. ‘A great, fat, whey-faced creature who can barely string two words together, and you and Lady Verey will not foist her on to me for the sake of any fortune! I’d rather starve!’

‘And well you might.’ There was still no inflection in Alex Delahaye’s voice. The fire crackled. ‘Have you forgotten that you’ll not get another penny from me if you do not marry?’

‘Marry, yes-but that?’ Philip’s eyes were wild. He slammed the glass down and the amber liquid jumped. ‘Have you met Miss Verey, Alex? Do you really dislike me so much as to condemn me to that?’

Alex Delahaye raised his brows. ‘I have not seen her since she was fifteen and I’ll allow she was a little on the plump side then-’

‘Plump! Surely you mean monstrous fat! A great whale of a girl tricked out in pink satin!’

Alex winced. ‘Must you always judge on appearance, Philip? I confess I have had no speech with her, but Verey assured me that she was of pleasant disposition and well to a pass-’

‘Ha!’

‘And that she was not unwilling to the match-’

‘Maybe not, for what other chance will she get?’ Philip drained the rest of his brandy in one gulp. ‘No wonder she is not yet out! No wonder the Vereys had been hiding her away there in the country these years past! And now Lord Verey is dead and beyond retribution and I am promised to that fright!’

The Duke sighed with the first sign of irritation he had shown. ‘As well he is dead, or you would be answering to him for your insults to his daughter! Philip, I will not carry on financing your escapades about town indefinitely. The alliance with Jane Verey is a sound one.’

‘Oh, I know you want me to settle down.’ Philip put his empty glass down with a sulky snap. All his remembered grievances were jostling in his mind, pushing forward, demanding to be heard.

‘It is all very well for you to dictate to me, keeping me short of funds, making me beg to have my debts settled! You, with all the fortune and all the estates-’

‘And all the responsibilities,’ his brother finished, a little bitterly. ‘Yes, it has been truly enjoyable for me, Philip, with five younger siblings to see settled creditably and three estates to return to profit! And then there have been fortune-hunting suitors to discourage on behalf of my sisters and the extorting landlords to deal with over breach of promise-’

‘There was only one landlord,’ Philip said crossly, ‘and I never promised to marry his daughter!’

Alex did not trouble to reply. He stretched out his long legs towards the fire and sighed. His brother eyed him with disfavour.

‘You have been married,’ Philip said suddenly. ‘How can you then condemn me to a loveless match?’

There was a sharp silence. ‘I would have thought that my own experiences were the perfect example of the evils of a love match,’ Alex said expressionlessly. ‘I would spare you that, little brother.’

Philip said something very short and very rude. His brother only smiled.

‘I sometimes find it difficult to believe you are only my senior by ten years,’ Philip said, with a final vicious spurt of malice. ‘You seem so very much older!’

Alex laughed. ‘The weight of obligation!’ he said lightly, but his eyes were cold.

‘But devil take it, Alex, you like living like this! You choose it!’ Philip reached for the brandy bottle, staring at his brother aggressively. ‘You never go out, you never entertain…You cultivate your reputation as a recluse! And yet the toadies still try to tempt you with their daughters and their entertainments and their wine cellars!’

Alex shrugged, indifferent again. ‘A Dukedom is perceived to be always in need of a Duchess,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately for the matchmakers, I am not in need of a wife! Which is where you enter the play, Philip!’

‘Damned if I see why I should marry just to oblige you!’ his brother said, aggrieved. ‘I know Madeline played fast and loose, and after she died you wanted no more to do with women! But you hold the Dukedom-you provide the heir! Damnation take it, there are hundreds of women panting after you!’

Alex Delahaye stretched, crossing one ankle over the other. ‘You’re wasting your time, Philip! I hold the purse strings and I want you to marry! It’s as simple as that. Now, you will renew your courtship of Miss Verey-’

‘I can’t do that!’

‘Because of your aversion to her appearance? You will find that there is more to marriage than a pretty face,’ his brother said coldly.

‘It’s not just that.’ Philip’s face was turned away, suddenly suffused with colour. ‘I have told everyone-told the others how it was with her. I shall be a laughing-stock if I renew my suit!’

‘The others? Whom?’ Alex’s voice cut like a whip.

‘Ponsonby and Malters and Cheriton,’ Philip muttered. ‘It seemed a good joke-Verey tricking you into agreeing an alliance between the Delahayes and that pudding-faced wench! They found it amusing, at any event…’

‘No doubt,’ Alex said, with biting sarcasm. He got to his feet, towering over his brother’s chair. ‘Your drinking cronies have seldom been graced with wit and taste! Well, you must make your choice, Philip! Either you are a rich laughing-stock or you are a penniless one!’

Philip was out of his chair in a second, confronting his brother. Alex had moved away and stood before the fireplace, one arm resting idly on the mantelpiece. He was the taller, which gave him an immediate advantage, but for once Philip was too angry to care.

‘Damn you for dictating my life,’ he said, real hatred lighting his blue eyes. ‘I wish you had died along with our parents!’