"Richard? You knew my brother?" Augusta, who had been telling herself that it was time to leave the card room and rejoin the crowd in Lady Leebrook's elegant ballroom, looked up, stunned. All thought of cards and strategy went out of her head in an instant.

Her stomach clenched as she waited to see what Lovejoy would say next. As always, when her brother's name was mentioned, she was immediately on the defensive, ready to do battle should anyone happen to question Richard's honor.

She was the only Ballinger left who could fight for Richard's name and memory and whenever the subject arose, she gave her all to the task.

She had been playing cards with Lovejoy for half an hour now, not because she was a particularly enthusiastic player but because she had rather hoped Graystone might wander into the ballroom and come in search of her. She knew he would be irritated, perhaps even mildly shocked by the somewhat dubious propriety of a lady engaging in a card game with a gentleman in such a formal setting.

It was not exactly improper. There were, after all, several other card games in progress in the same room. A few of the ladies involved had been known to lose sums equal to those their husbands occasionally lost in the clubs. But the high-sticklers in the ton, of which Graystone was surely one, did not approve of such goings-on. And Augusta was fairly certain that when he found her playing with Lovejoy, of all people, the earl would be genuinely annoyed.

It was a small vengeance for his high-handed treatment of her in the garden the other evening when he had insisted her honor demanded she remain engaged, but it was all she was likely to get. She had the arguments in her own defense already thoroughly prepared. Indeed, she looked forward to delivering them with relish.

When Graystone took her to task for playing cards with Lovejoy, Augusta planned to point out that he could hardly complain, as he had only forbidden her to dance the waltz with the baron. There had been no stipulations regarding cards. Graystone was a man who prided himself on his logic. He could just choke on it this time.

And if he found the offense of card playing simply too grave to tolerate, he could release her from her implied promises and allow her to cry off the engagement.

But Graystone had apparently elected not to attend the Leebrooks' elegant affair tonight and the entire attempt to challenge him had been wasted. Augusta had tired of the card game, even though she was winning. Lovejoy was pleasant enough company, but all she could think about was the fact that Graystone was absent.

The notion of ending the game and returning to the ballroom came to a crashing halt, however, at the mention of Richard's name.

"I did not know your brother well, you understand," Lovejoy said easily as he casually dealt the cards. "But he seemed quite likable. I believe I met him at a race meeting. He won a considerable sum on a horse I had been certain would lose."

Augusta smiled sadly. "Richard was very fond of attending sporting events of all types." She picked up her cards and glanced at them with unseeing eyes. She could not concentrate on what she held. Her mind was totally riveted on Richard. He had been innocent.

"So I gathered. Took after his father, I believe?"

"Yes. Mother always claimed they were both cut from the same cloth. True Northumberland Ballingers. Always eager for adventure and ready for any sort of excitement." With any luck Lovejoy would not have any inkling of the rumors that had circulated for a time after her brother had been killed on that lonely country lane. The baron had, after all, spent most of the past few years with his regiment on the continent.

"I was sorry to learn of your brother's untimely death two years ago," Lovejoy continued, frowning thoughtfully down at the cards he held. "My belated condolences, Miss Ballinger."

"Thank you." Augusta pretended to study her own cards as she waited to see if Lovejoy would say anything else. All the old memories of Richard's laughter and warmth returned with a rush, blotting out the hum of conversation in the room. The muttered accusations had been so grossly unfair. One only had to know Richard to realize he would never have betrayed his country.

A silence descended on the card table. Lost in her memories of Richard and her bitterness over the unfair accusations that had been lodged against him, Augusta could not begin to concentrate on her hand. She lost for the first time that evening.

"It seems my luck has turned, sir." She started to rise from her chair as she realized that Lovejoy had just won back in one round most of the ten pounds she had succeeded in taking from him.

"I doubt it." Lovejoy smiled, gathered up the cards, and shuffled again.

"I believe we are about even, my lord," Augusta said. "I suggest we call it a draw and return to the dancing."

"There were certain unfortunate rumors surrounding the events of your brother's death, were there not?"

"Lies. All lies, my lord." Augusta sank slowly back down into her chair. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch her mother's ruby necklace.

"Of course. I never believed them for a moment Lovejoy gave her a gravely reassuring look. "You may depend upon that, Miss Ballinger."

"Thank you." Augusta's stomach started to unclench. At least Lovejoy did not believe the worst, she thought.

Another silence descended, during which she did not know what else to say. She stared down at the fresh hand of cards she had just been dealt and automatically picked them up with unsteady fingers.

"I heard that certain documents were apparently found on his body at the time of his death." Lovejoy frowned over his hand. "Documents of a military intelligence nature."

Augusta froze. "I believe they were deliberately placed in his pockets to make him look guilty of treason. Someday I shall find a way to prove it, my lord."

"A noble goal. But how will you go about doing that?"

"I do not know," Augusta admitted tightly. "But if there is any justice in this world, I shall find a way."

"Ah, my dear Miss Ballinger. Have you not yet learned that there is very little justice in this world?"

"I cannot believe that, sir."

"Such an innocent. Perhaps you would care to tell me more about the situation. I have some experience in these matters, you see."

Augusta looked up, startled. "You do?"

Lovejoy smiled indulgently. "When I served on the continent I was occasionally assigned the task of investigating occurrences of a criminal nature that cropped up in the regiment. You know, the odd knifing in the alley of a strange town or an officer suspected of selling information to the enemy. Unpleasant as they are, such things happen in war, Miss Ballinger. And investigations into them must be conducted with absolute discretion. The honor of the regiment is always at stake, you see."

"Yes, I do see." Augusta felt a flare of hope unfurl within her. "Did you have much success in conducting that sort of investigation, my lord?"

"Considerable success."

"It is a great deal to ask, but would you by any chance be interested in helping me prove my brother's innocence?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe.

Lovejoy frowned as he gathered up the cards and dealt another hand. "I'm not sure if I could be of much assistance, Miss Ballinger. Your brother was killed shortly before Napoleon abdicated in 1814, was he not?"

"Yes, that's right."

"It would be very difficult to start tracing his contacts and associations now. I doubt that there would be any clues left." Lovejoy paused and gave her an inquiring glance. "Unless you have some notion of where to begin."

"No. None at all. I suppose it is hopeless." Augusta's brief stir of hope faltered and died.

She gazed down at the green baize forlornly, thinking of the poem that lay tucked into the jewel box on her dressing table. The strange verse written on paper that was stained with Richard's own blood was all she had left of her brother. It was certainly no clue. It did not even make any sense, as far as she had ever been able to tell. There was no point even mentioning it. She had kept it because it was the last thing Richard had given to her.

Lovejoy smiled consolingly. "Nevertheless, why don't you tell me what little you do know and I will see if there is anything that comes to mind."

Augusta began to talk as the card game continued. She made a fierce effort to answer the various questions Lovejoy idly tossed out. She tried to recall the names of all her brother's friends and acquaintances and where he had spent his time during the few months preceding his death.

But Lovejoy apparently saw no significance in any of it. Nevertheless, he kept asking questions and as he gently interrogated her, he continued to deal the cards. Augusta automatically played each hand she was dealt, one after another, giving no thought to her game. Her focus was entirely on the questions Lovejoy asked about Richard.

When she finally ran out of information, Augusta looked down at the pad of paper on which Lovejoy had been keeping score and realized she owed him a thousand pounds.

A thousand pounds.

"Dear God." She clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. "My lord, I fear I do not have such an amount readily available." Or even unreadily available. There was no way on earth she could come up with that large a sum.

The thought of going to her uncle to ask him to cover her debts was too awful to contemplate. Sir Thomas had been astonishingly generous since she had gone to live in his household. She could not possibly repay his kindness by asking him to cover a gaming debt of a thousand pounds. It would be unthinkable. Her honor would not allow it.