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"Not allow me to pay my debt? You cannot be serious. I pawned my mother's necklace in order to repay you. It was all I had of hers."

Lovejoy smiled without any warmth. "I did not say I would not allow you to repay the debt, my dear Augusta. I agree it must be paid. It is, after all, a debt of honor. I merely said I could not take your money. It would be unconscionable under the circumstances. Your mother's necklace, no less. Good lord, I simply cannot do it and continue to live with myself."

Augusta shook her head, completely at a loss. She had gone to Pompeia's earlier to collect the money Scruggs had received when he had pawned the necklace late that afternoon. Then she had rushed off to the theater fully intending to make arrangements to pay off Lovejoy.

Now he was refusing to take the money.

"I do not understand what you are talking about," Augusta hissed softly, anxious not to be overheard in the crowded lobby.

" 'Tis quite simple. After due consideration I realize I could not possibly take your thousand pounds, my dear Miss Ballinger."

Augusta eyed him warily. "That is very kind of you, sir, but I must insist."

"In that case, we must arrange to discuss the matter in a more private atmosphere." Lovejoy glanced meaningfully around at the throng that filled the lobby. "This is surely not the appropriate time or place."

"But I have a draft for the amount with me."

"I have just told you I cannot take your money."

"Sir, I demand that you allow me to settle this debt." Augusta was beginning to feel frustrated and quite desperate. "You must return my marker for the thousand pounds."

"You want your marker back very badly, do you?"

"Well, of course I do. Please, my lord, this is very awkward."

Lovejoy's eyes glittered with amused malice as he appeared to consider her demand. "Very well, I think we can make arrangements. You shall have your vowels back if you care to call on me two nights hence. Say around eleven o'clock in the evening? Come alone, Miss Ballinger, and we will settle the debt."

Augusta was suddenly chilled from head to toe as she realized what he was saying. She moistened dry lips and tried to keep her voice calm. It sounded unnaturally thin, even to her own ears. "I cannot possibly call on you alone at eleven o'clock at night. You know that very well, my lord."

"Do not concern yourself with the little matter of your reputation, Miss Ballinger. I assure you, I will mention your visit to no one. Least of all to your fiancé."

"You cannot force me to do this," she whispered.

"Come, now, Miss Ballinger. Where is that adventurous spirit and thirst for recklessness which everyone says is a family trait? Surely you are not too timid to risk a little late-night rendezvous at the home of a friend."

"My lord, be reasonable."

"Oh, I shall be, my dear. Most reasonable. I shall expect you at eleven, evening after next. Do not disappoint me, or I shall be obliged to make public the fact that the last of the Northumberland Ballingers does not pay her gaming debts. Think of the humiliation, Augusta. And so easily avoided by a short visit."

Lovejoy turned and walked off into the crowd.

Augusta stared after him, her stomach churning.

"Oh, there you are, Augusta," Claudia said as she came up behind her cousin. "Shall we join the Haywoods in their box now? It is almost time for the performance to begin and we are expected."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Edmund Kean was as compelling on stage as always, but Augusta did not hear one word of the play. She spent the entire time trying to deal with the new twist in the disaster that had befallen her.

No matter how she viewed the situation, there was no way around the horrible fact that a note saying she owed Lovejoy a thousand pounds was in the odious man's possession and he had no intention of returning it unless she compromised herself.

Augusta was reckless, but she was far from naive. She did not believe for one minute that Lovejoy intended her late-night visit to be a social call. The man was clearly going to demand much more of her than a little conversation.

It was clear that Lord Lovejoy was no gentleman. There was no telling what he would do with her vowels should she fail to show two nights hence. But she had seen the chilling promise in his eyes. Sooner or later he would use her note against her in some malicious manner.

Perhaps he would go to Gray stone with her marker. Augusta closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought. Harry would be furious with her. The evidence of her foolishness would confirm all his darkest suspicions concerning her character.

It would be humiliating, but she could tell Harry the whole story now. He would be thoroughly displeased, even disgusted with her behavior. This incident would no doubt be just the impetus he needed to finally agree to allow her to call off the engagement.

That thought should have brought her a giddy sense of relief, but for some reason it did not. Augusta forced herself to examine the reason why. Surely she did not actually want the engagement to stand. She had resisted the notion right from the start.

No, she decided firmly, it was not that she still believed that marriage to Harry was a sound idea, it was simply that she did not wish to be embarrassed and humiliated in front of him.

She had her pride, after all. She was the last of the proud, daring, neck-or-nothing branch of the Ballinger clan. She would look after her own honor.

On the way home in the Haywoods' carriage, Augusta came to a grim conclusion. She had to find a way to retrieve the incriminating gaming voucher before Lovejoy found a way to embarrass and humiliate her with it.

"Where the devil have you been, Graystone? I've gone to every damn ball and soiree in town tonight looking for you. You've got a bloody disaster on your hands and here you sit, calm as you please, drinking claret at your club." Peter Sheldrake dropped into the chair across from Harry and continued to mutter darkly as he reached for the bottle. "I should have tried here first."

"Yes, you should have." Harry looked up from the notes he was making for a book on Caesar's military campaigns. "I decided to come here for a few hands of cards before retiring for the evening. What seems to be the problem, Sheldrake? I have not seen you this agitated since the night you nearly got caught with that French officer's wife."

"The problem is not mine." Peter's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "It is yours."

Harry groaned, sensing the worst. "Are we by any chance about to discuss Augusta?"

"I fear so. Sally sent me to find you when it transpired that you were not conveniently at home. Your lady has taken up a new profession, Graystone. She is about to become a cracksman."

Harry went cold. "The devil she is. What are you talking about, Sheldrake?"

"According to Sally, your fiancée is even now on her way to break into the house Lovejoy has leased for The Season. It seems she tried to repay her debt but Lovejoy refused to take the money. Nor would he return her marker unless she collected it in person. At his place. At eleven o'clock tomorrow evening, to be precise. She was instructed to come alone. One can imagine what he had in mind."

"That son of a bitch."

"Yes, I fear he is playing some rather dangerous games with your Miss Ballinger. However, never fear. Your intrepid and ever resourceful fiancée has decided to take matters into her own hands. She has gone to fetch her marker herself tonight while Lovejoy is out on the town."

"This time I really will beat her." Harry got to his feet, ignoring Peter's wicked grin as he headed for the door. And afterward I will deal with Lovejoy.

Dressed for the occasion in a pair of trousers and a shirt that had once belonged to her brother, Augusta crouched beneath Lovejoy's garden window and surveyed the situation.