Page 2 of When We Touch

“Maggie,” Justin said softly, rising as well. She glanced quickly at her brother. He looked ghastly.

They were twins, and certainly bore a resemblance. From their mother they had inherited an unusual shade of hair—a true reddish blond, gold in the light of the sun, light, and yet, very rich. Nathan had once told her that it was like a shining halo—not the halo of a soft or silly angel, but rather that of an avenger, out to bring Almighty Justice. It was part of her temper, he had teased. And part of the fighting spirit that he’d vowed he so loved.

In his memory, she would never cut it.

Justin, too, seemed quite fond of his, wearing it a bit longer than the fashion. He was clean shaven, which suited him, for his features were cleanly cut, and decidedly strong, very handsome. Today, however, her handsome sibling looked not only ashen, but bent, as if holding his own frame erect was a terrible effort. He offered her a weak smile, looked sicker still, and sat again.

“Ah, the tea!” she said, as Clayton entered, bearing the tray. She went about the business immediately of pouring, telling Angus, “Uncle, I believe you prefer it with just one lump and a bare touch of cream?”

“Indeed, my dear.”

“Molly’s scones are beyond delight, sir. You must taste one.”

Angus accepted his cup of tea, but waved his hand impatiently at the offer of a scone. “Pour your brother his tea, my dear. And find a perch for yourself, for the business at hand is serious.”

She couldn’t help a quick glance at Justin. He refused to catch her eye. He didn’t look one bit like Lord Graham, a grand baron of the Ton. He looked like a stricken invalid.

She passed him a cup of tea, noting that his hands were trembling and the fine china service clattered dangerously in his grip. She pretended to ignore his state, keeping her composure as she poured tea for herself, purposely adding fuel to her uncle’s fire as she took her time, then found a seat in the straight, wing-backed chair opposite him.

“So, Uncle, this is not a social call,” she said at last.

“Hardly social,” Angus said, and she thought she detected a snicker to his words.

“Pray then,” she said, slightly hiking a brow, “do enlighten us.”

Angus leaned forward, setting his cup on the Oriental table before him.

“I can no longer afford the behavior of this branch of the family!”

She was startled enough that her own cup clattered upon its saucer. “My dearest uncle, I am offended. For though we would never fail to bow to your wisdom—or forget that you are the brother of our dear departed father—it is my brother, Justin, who bears the family title.”

“And has made waste of all that the family has gained!” Angus said angrily.

Her eyes flew to her brother at that point and sickness fell to the pit of her stomach with a walloping thump. Justin would still not look her way.

“Justin has gambled away all but the title, I’m afraid. I’ve kept this home afloat—and your brother from his gambling debts—longer than I am able. Your cousin Diana is due to make her first appearance in society this season. You and Justin must now bear responsibility for your own welfare.”

“But—but—!” Maggie stammered, then grew furious with her own lack of composure. “We were left in secure finances.”

“You were—you are now in deep debt—to me, and not just to me! God knows what other creditors there are who have not been paid,” Angus said contemptuously.

Justin suddenly came to life, and whatever he had done, Maggie was proud of him in that one moment of righteous anger he showed. “My lord uncle! It was you who suggested that I spend my nights following in the party of our dear royal Eddy, and it is thus, sir, that I have come to these lamentable circumstances!”

“Lamentable, indeed. If you do not change your ways or find some means of salvation, you are likely to find yourself in the debtor’s section of Newgate!”

As she had heard far more than anyone really wanted to know about the prison, Maggie was instantly horrified.

“Uncle,” Justin said quietly, “I believe you’re being a bit dramatic. The new prison for debtors is in Pentonville, if I’m not mistaken.” He looked at his sister dryly. “It’s considered quite a model prison. There’s good ventilation, and it’s solitude they put you in these days, hours and hours alone to contemplate your sins. Truly, the building is supposed to be a gorgeous example of the genius of Victorian architecture.”

Angus was furious. He wagged a finger at Justin. “Let me tell you, my worldly young lord! You may still be hauled into Newgate until your trial takes place, and believe me, the rats and the stench remain! Along with many of those hardened criminals awaiting execution.”

“They don’t execute men for debt,” Justin said coldly.

“This cannot be true!” Maggie said. “I knew that we were rich in the sense of family and title if not in vast estates, but there was a trust!”

“There was a trust. No more.”

Maggie stared at her brother again. Now, his eyes, as rich a blue as her own, stared back. “I’m afraid it isn’t easy keeping up with the Prince, or his companions,” he said.