The moneyed Sterling twins are in a bit of a pickle: Their mounds of cash are tied up due to their deceased father’s strict rules on their inheritance. With three months until their eighteenth birthday, and no relatives to speak of, Richard and Richina Sterling have no choice but to hole up in Faded Glory Manor, home of their late father’s wartime comrade, Lord Worthless.


But Faded Glory Manor is not quite the lap of luxury the Sterling twins have come to expect. The drafty old home once knew greatness, but can barely afford a maid for each lady of the house these days! Fallen on hard times, indeed.


The twins were in for a rude awakening the moment they arrive.


The entire staff was assembled inside to greet them, watching as Richie leapt over the side of the car, heels clicking together, and gold coins dropping from his pocket. He saw them but couldn’t be bothered to pick them up as he hurried to open Richina’s door. “It’s definitely the right address. This is Faded Glory Manor, Sister dear,” he said. “It certainly has seen better days, but we’ve been invited to stay and it would be poor form not to, so let’s make the best of it, shall we?”


Richina extended a hand dripping in diamond rings and bracelets. “If you insist.”


“Don’t worry,” Richie assured her. “I’ll have a tennis court installed over the weekend.”


At the twenty-foot-high front door, Richie banged on the enormous brass knocker and the twins were instantly engulfed in a swirling dust storm. “It seems no one has been here for a while,” Richie observed while Richina coughed spasmodically against the door. She was nearly toppled as, with a deafening creak, the door opened.


A skeleton in filthy butler attire greeted them. “We’ve been expecting you.”


Exchanging a dubious and wary look, the twins followed him into the rotted and decaying hall, a spectacle of past glory in desperate need of upkeep. A sad-looking maid and seemingly senile valet stood in the hall. “This can’t be the entire staff!” stage-whispered Richina to her equally horrified brother. Richina wiped the grime from her forehead, setting off another deafening clatter of jewelry.


A woman’s voice trilled from the dayroom. “Diamonds? Do I hear diamonds?” The lady of the estate, Lady Worthless, stumbled out, intoxicated by the sound. “I once had diamonds. Where is that beautiful music coming from?”


“Do you mean these?” Richina asked and shimmied with arms outstretched, her many diamonds, bracelets, necklaces, and brooches creating such a commotion that a large chunk of plaster falls from the ceiling.


Alerted by the sound of the rattling diamonds, Lord Worthless walked in. Stepping over the hunk of fallen plaster, he shook Richie Sterling’s hand. “How do you do?” he asked.


“We’re not quite sure,” Richie admitted, eyeing the plaster under the Lord’s feet. “Do things like this often happen here?”


“Things like what?” Lord Worthless inquired.


“That plaster on the floor,” Richie said, pointing.


“I say, I don’t have the foggiest idea what you mean,” Lord Worthless said, his expression vague. “Have you met my daughters yet?”


“I’m here, father.” The twins heard the voice but saw no one.


“Stop fooling, Doodles, and show yourself,” Lord Worthless demanded.


“But I’m right here,” Doodles Worthless insisted.


Lord Worthless turned to his wife for help but she had become completely bedazzled by Richina’s jewelry and could only stare at it, her eyes two saucers of yearning. He clapped his hands sharply. “Come off it!” he demanded. “Why can’t we see Doodles?”


Lady Worthless roused from her dazed state. “Doodles? Oh, she must have blended in with the wallpaper again.” She smiled apologetically at Richie and Richina as she walked over to the floral-patterned wall and reached in. Doodles Worthless suddenly emerged. “What have I told you about standing so close to the wall?” her mother scolded.


“Don’t you have another daughter?” Richie recalled.


Lord Worthless turned to his wife. “Do we?”


Lady Worthless tittered with laugher. “Why, of course we do, you old fool. Our eldest daughter Snobby is around here somewhere.” Lady Worthless suddenly eyed Richie with a new alertness as if an idea occurred to her. “You might like Snobby. She’s going to make some lucky man a fine wife someday. She never lets her enthusiasms run wild, as some young women do. In fact, she has no enthusiasm for anything.”


“Hmm,” Richie demurred. “I don’t know.”


“Unless you’d prefer Doodles here,” Lady Worthless suggested, searching around for her youngest daughter who has dropped out of sight once more. “Doodles?”


“Yes, Mother,” Doodles’s voice wafted in from the wallpapered wall.


“Oh, not again,” Lady Worthless muttered. She headed over to retrieve her daughter but Richie stopped her.


“Never mind,” he said. “I’m too young to marry just yet.”


“Never too young when a fortune is at stake,” Lady Worthless disagreed. “A good wife can help you spend—I mean manage—it. Yes, manage is what I meant to say… not spend… manage. Snobby will be a very sensible manager.”


Snobby glided into the room. “Did someone mention my name?” she asked in her low, husky voice.


Lady Worthless smiled charmingly at Richie. “Why, yes, dear, I was just telling—”


“Never mind,” Snobby cut her mother off. “I’ve lost interest. My mind has drifted back to my days on the Continent where things were interesting, not like they are here in England. I’m never quite here because I’m always there.”


“Hopefully my sister and I will liven things up around here,” Richie suggested.


“I doubt it,” Snobby replied with a yawn.


“You look familiar. Perhaps you run in the same circles as my sister here,” Richie said.


Snobby cast him a disdainful glance. “I would never run in circles.”


“I could show you my diamonds,” Richina offered.


“Not interested,” Snobby declines as she glides out of the room.


“I’d like to see them,” Lady Worthless said excitedly, her eyes swirling once more as she went back into a diamond-envy–induced trance state.


“If you’ll excuse me, I must go and count the family heirlooms,” Lord Worthless said, checking the watch fob in his vest pocket. “I do it every day at this time.” He headed for the nearest door, but the crystal doorknob came off in his hand. Dropping it, he wandered off in search of another way out.


Richie turned to his sister. “See, Sis? It’s not so bad.”


“No, it’s worse!” Richina stated. She took Richie by the hand and headed out of the room, pulling him after her. “Come, Richie, dear. Let’s go call a man about putting in that tennis court. At least if we play tennis we won’t have to talk to these impecunious lunatics.”


The room empted but a small voice could be heard from the wall. “Where is everyone going? Can I come?”


Poor Doodles. Is there anything worse than being forgotten?


And so dear reader, we hope your imaginations can supply the further comings and goings at Faded Glory Hall until the next thrilling installment of MISFORTUNE MANOR.

Lila Darlington was stewing. It was not an unfamiliar feeling.

She’d tried going into the nursery to play with baby James, but Therese had told her he was asleep. Even baby James had better things to do than spend time with Lila. She was seated in the library, rereading The Secret Garden for what felt like the umpteenth time.

She closed her novel with a heavy sigh, and walked over to see what other reading options there might be on the shelves. Maybe a new volume had magically appeared in their collection. Not that Father was in the habit of book buying these days. The only new books they ever received were gifts from Wesley. The library looked out onto the considerable garden at Wentworth Hall, and movement on the grounds caught her attention. She pushed back the curtain and peered down. Her attention was fixed on the young man and woman strolling across it: Teddy Fitzhugh and Maggie.

He seemed to slow his walk to accommodate Maggie’s graceful strides, laughing hilariously at her every droll remark. It was infuriating. And Lady Darlington encouraged them! Although it was odd to Lila that Mother was so focused on marrying off Maggie when Wes was the heir. Not that Teddy seemed to mind. He was hopelessly smitten with her older sister.