“Then we won’t be seeing you again after tonight.” Ethan made no attempt to disguise the warning in his tone. He wanted Roxbury in no doubt that further contact with Francesca would not be allowed.
Francesca squeezed Ethan’s hand, silently urging him to be cordial.
“What Lord Winterbourne means to say is we wish you a safe journey,” Francesca said.
Roxbury looked amused. “I’m sure.” Roxbury’s perceptive gaze met Ethan’s. Ethan stared right back. “Once again, my congratulations.” Roxbury bowed and strolled out of the room.
“Actually”—Ethan lifted his champagne glass from the table and turned his gaze on Francesca—“that wasn’t what I meant.”
Francesca scowled at him. “You have to at leasttryto be civil.”
“Civil?” He offered her the plate again, and she took a sugarplum from it. “The devil take civility. Thatwascivil.”
She shook her head and popped the sugarplum into her mouth. “Perhaps for you it was.”
He watched her, wondering what she had seen in Roxbury. Now that Ethan had seen them together, he was certain he’d been right in assuming there was more to their relationship than she would admit. But now was not the time to quiz her about the more personal aspects.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t inquire about more general matters. “What was that about Roxbury’s estate being mortgaged? You’ve mentioned it before.” He offered her the plate again.
Francesca nodded, swallowing her sugarplum. “Fountainview, Roxbury’s estate in Surrey, is heavily mortgaged. It’s been poorly managed for two or three generations.” She reached for a square of cake.
The history was beginning to sound familiar. Roxbury’s father and grandfather had both been profligate gamblers and had wasted the family fortune, leaving the current earl with almost nothing. Unless Roxbury married well or was heir to some vast fortune no one was aware of, the earl would lose the estate. Or perhaps he already had.
“You heard that he lost the estate?” Ethan asked.
She shook her head, licking a crumb of the cake from her lower lip. “No. I suppose I just assumed.” She darted a glance at Ethan. “I know I shouldn’t do that, but bad habits are hard to break.”
“Damn it, Francesca.” Ethan wanted to shake her. Maybe if he rattled her brain enough, she would realize how exceptional she was, wouldn’t allow a man like Roxbury to cut her down.
Her eyes had widened at his words, and she was staring at him. He reached out and rubbed the bare skin of her arm where her gloves ended.
“You don’t have any bad habits,” he said, lowering his voice. He grinned, trying to lighten her mood again. “Not compared to me, that is.”
She gave him a weak smile.
“You’re an intelligent woman,” he went on. “Why did you assume Roxbury lost Fountainview?”
She looked down, dug her slippered toe into the plush rug.
“I supposed I didn’t see how Roxbury could amass the funds to pay the mortgage. His financial ventures were never very successful. I remember he had business in France on occasion, and with the situation deteriorating so quickly he must have lost money.” She glanced up at him, then back at the rich gold carpet. “And then after I—I mean,we—”
Ethan raised an eyebrow at her slip, but she didn’t see.
“Afterwecalled of the betrothal, he was left with no means to pay his debts on Fountainview.”
“He needed the money from the marriage that badly?” Ethan stated baldly.
She shot him a glance. “He never said so.”
“Then he was not the one who called off the betrothal. You did.”
She set the remaining bite of cake back on the plate and shook her head. “It was a mutual decision.”
Ethan snorted to himself. He did not believe for a moment that Roxbury wanted to end the betrothal with a woman whose father’s fortune, while not vast, was comfortable enough to assure Roxbury of saving his estate in Surrey.
“So, the question is, how has Roxbury managed to keep Fountainview?” He said it more to himself than Francesca, but she answered.
“I supposed he must have found other funds.” Francesca picked up the last bite of cake and nibbled it. “He is a resourceful man.”
