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macaronis and libertines and whores you hang about with. She s
I have never, ever, in my entire life, consorted with macaronis. Oscar arched an awful eyebrow at his
younger brother.
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Gentlemen, please, Tony said. Save your teasing for later. George, what do you plan to do with your
land steward? Do you want to marry him?
I say!
But, Tony! Both Oscar and Ralph started.
Tony held up a hand, silencing them. George?
George blinked. What did she want from Harry? To be close to him, she knew, but beyond that, matters
became complicated. Why, oh why, couldn t she muddle along as she always had?
Because, Tony said, much as I hate to admit it, Oscar and Ralph are right. You must either break it off
or marry the fellow. You aren t the type of lady to engage in this kind of behavior.
Oh, Lord. George s chest felt suddenly tight, as if someone had crept up behind her and yanked her
corset strings taut. She always felt this sensation at the thought of marriage. What could she say? Well . .
.
He kills sheep. Violet says so in her letter. Ralph crossed his arms. Georgina cannot marry a
madman.
No wonder Violet was hiding. She must ve sent letters to all three of their brothers. George narrowed
her eyes. Her sister was probably in the hills at this very moment, trying to figure out exactly how one
went about drinking dew.
You ve been reading my mail again. Oscar selected a tart from the tray, apparently having forgotten the
bun, and shook it at Ralph. That letter was to me. Yours said nothing about sheep.
Ralph opened his mouth and closed it a few times, like a mule unsure of the bit between its teeth. How
would you know that if you hadn t been reading my letters?
Oscar smirked in a loathsome way. One day someone was going to hit him. I m older than you. It s my
duty to keep tabs on my impressionable young brother.
Crash!
Everyone jerked around to the fireplace, where shards of glass lay on the hearth.
Tony leaned on the mantel and frowned sternly back. I hope you didn t care for that crystal vase,
George?
Uh, no, not at
Good, Tony clipped. Now, then. Edifying as this display of brotherly love is, I think we ve wandered
from the main point. He held up a hand and ticked off his large-knuckled fingers. One, do you think
Harry Pye is a madman going about the countryside killing Granville s sheep?
No. That might be the only thing she was sure of.
Fine. Ah. Ah. Tony shook his head at Ralph, who d begun to protest. Do you both trust George s
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judgment?
Of course, Ralph said.
Implicitly, Oscar replied.
Tony nodded, then turned back to her. Two, do you want to marry Harry Pye?
But, Tony, a land steward! Oscar burst out. You know he s only in it for . . . He stopped and looked
flustered. Sorry, Georgie.
George tilted her chin away. She felt as if something fluttered in her throat, impeding the air.
Only Tony met the objection head-on. Do you think he wants your money, George?
No. Beastly, beastly brothers.
He raised his eyebrows and stared pointedly at Oscar.
Oscar threw up his arms and pushed his open palms at Tony. Fine! Oscar went to brood by the
window, taking his plate of food with him.
Do you want to marry him? Tony persisted.
I don t know! She couldn t breathe. When had it come to marriage? Marriage was like a fluffy coverlet
that enveloped its occupants closer and closer, the air growing thin and stale, until they stifled to death
and didn t even realize they were already dead.
Tony closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. I know you ve avoided marriage thus far, and I
can understand. We all can.
At the window, Oscar shrugged one shoulder.
Ralph looked at his feet.
Tony just stared at her. If you ve given yourself to this man, don t you think the choice has already been
made?
Maybe. George got to her feet. Maybe not. But in either case, I won t be pushed. Give me some time
to think.
Oscar looked up from the window and exchanged glances with Tony.
We ll give you time, Tony said, and the sympathy in his eyes made her want to cry.
George bit her lip and turned to a nearby wall of books. She trailed a fingertip over the spines. Behind
her she heard Ralph say, Up for a bit of a ride, Oscar?
What? Oscar sounded irritable and like his mouth was full again. Are you mad? It s begun to rain.
A sigh. Come with me, anyway.
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Why? Oh. Ooh. Yes, of course. Her two younger brothers quietly exited the room.
George almost smiled. Oscar had always been the least perceptive of her siblings. She turned to look
behind her. Tony was frowning into the fire. She winced. Oh, damn, she d forgotten to tell him yesterday.
Tony must have uncanny peripheral vision. He glanced up sharply. What?
Lord, you re not going to like this. I meant to tell you right away and then . . . She turned over a palm.
I m afraid there s another sisterly problem you must deal with.
Violet?
George sighed. Violet has gotten herself into a bit of a fix.
He raised his eyebrows.
She was seduced this summer.
Bloody hell, George, Tony said, his voice more sharp than if he d yelled. Why didn t you tell me at
once? Is she all right?
Yes, she s fine. And I m sorry, but I only got the story out of her yesterday. George blew out a breath.
She was so weary, but it was best to get it over with. She didn t want to tell you; she thought you d
make her marry him.
That is the usual response to a lady of good family being compromised. Tony frowned at her, his
eyebrows ferocious. Is the fellow suitable?
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