"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.

"Pray do not concern yourself, Miss Ballinger." Lovejoy calmly collected the cards. "There is no great rush. If you will merely give me your vowels tonight, I shall be happy to wait until such time as it is more convenient for you to settle your debt. I am certain we shall be able to come to terms."

Wordlessly, her heart pounding with the enormity of what she had done, Augusta wrote out an IOU for a thousand pounds and signed her name. Then she got to her feet, aware that she was shaking so badly she might actually humiliate herself by collapsing.

"If you will excuse me, sir," she managed with creditable calm, "I must return to the ballroom. My cousin will wonder where I am."

"Of course. Let me know when you are prepared to deal with your debt. We shall work out an arrangement that is mutually agreeable." Lovejoy smiled a slow, insinuating smile.

Augusta wondered why she had never before noticed the unpleasant gleam in his fox-green eyes. She steeled herself to ask a favor. "Will you give me your word, sir, as a gentleman, not the mention this incident to anyone? I would not want my uncle or… or certain other parties to hear of it."

"Certain other parties such as your finance? I can understand your concern. Graystone would not be inclined to be indulgent about a lady's gaming debts, would he? Such a stickler for the proprieties as he is would probably not approve of ladies playing cards in the first place."

Augusta 's heart sank even farther. What a mess this was going to be. And it was all her own fault. "No, I imagine not."

"You may rest assured I will keep silent." Lovejoy inclined his head with mocking gallantry. "You have my word on it."

"Thank you."

Augusta turned away and fled toward the bright lights and laughter of the ballroom. Her mind was reeling with the knowledge that she had been a fool.

Quite naturally the first person she saw when she left the card room was Harry. He had spotted her and was making his way toward her through the glittering crowd. Augusta took one look at him and was filled with an overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms, confess all, and beg for advice.

Dressed in his austere evening attire with an immaculately folded white cravat around his strong throat, Graystone looked formidable enough to take on two or three Lovejoys and dispatch them all with ease. There was something reassuringly strong and solid about her fiance, Augusta realized. This was a man one could depend upon, if one had not gotten oneself into a situation through sheer stupidity.

Unfortunately, Graystone had no patience with stupidity.

Augusta straightened her shoulders. The problem was of her own making and she was obliged to find a way to pay her own debts. She could not possibly involve Harry in this fiasco. A Northumberland Ballinger took care of her own honor.