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very beautiful.”
    â€œAye, there’s been none to compare with her—not even Leah. I told her when we was married that I’d gain a fortune for her, to make up for what she lost in marrying me. Almost did it, too, but she died giving me the girl. Made me promise I’d not hold it against Leah—losing her, I mean. But every day I look on my girl, I see Marianna in her.”
    â€œHow old is Leah?” Tony asked quietly.
    â€œBe twenty next month. Oh, I know girls go for their Seasons before they are eighteen, but I took my time with Leah. I remember how it was for my Ma—” He stopped abruptly. “No, you’ll not fault what you get in Leah Cole, my lord. I’ve seen she has the accomplishments of a lady—and a good head too.”
    â€œBut she has not gone about much,” Tony reminded him.
    â€œKept her at home—didn’t want some Cit fixing his interest with her, nor any half-pay officer neither. Couldn’t have all the bucks ogling my girl, knowing what I know about the ton. Well, I mean, think on it: you was trying to give her a slip of the shoulder yourself, wasn’t you?”
    â€œI am not proud of my mistake, Mr. Cole.” Tony had raised his glass to take a drink when he heard Jeptha Cole’s sharp intake of breath, the sound that came with acute pain. Looking down to where the older man had taken his seat, he saw the profuse sweat break out on his balding head and noted the white knuckles that clutched the arms of his chair. Even as he watched, the man’s color turned ashy gray and his breath came in gasps. Alarmed, Tony rushed to his side while yelling, “Your master’s ill … Mr. Cole is ill!”
    â€œNo …” Cole managed in a weak half-whisper.
    Leah heard Tony’s call all the way back in the kitchens, where she was sampling the sauces. Gathering her skirt above her ankles, she ran to the front of the house.
    Throwing open the door, she nearly collided with the butler and footmen, who’d come up from the cellar.
    â€œPapa! Are you . . . ?” One look told her he was not. “Oh, Papa.” She knelt at the side of his chair across from Tony and began massaging Jeptha Cole’s hands vigorously. “Someone send for Dr. Fournier in Half Moon—please hurry!”
    â€œHe cannot breathe,” Tony muttered. Rising, he leaned over to loosen the older man’s cravat and unbuttoned the waistcoat over his ample stomach. “Get a wet cloth,” he ordered curtly.
    â€œYou cannot order me—” She stopped, biting her lip to hold back her bitter retort. Her father was obviously in great pain, and there was no time for quarreling. “All right.” Meeting the housekeeper, who stood in the doorway wringing her hands, Leah urged her, “You heard his lordship—bring us a wet cloth.”
    â€œYes, miss.”
    When Leah turned back to Lord Lyndon, he was mopping her father’s brow with his handkerchief, and her father’s pain was easing. Relieved, she noted his returning color.
    He blinked his eyes and looked up at Lord Lyndon. “Damme,” he rasped, “thought I was stickin’ my spoon in the wall that time.” He craned his neck toward his daughter, and his hand reached for her. “Can you not see how it is that I must have you settled, puss?” he managed. Seeing the tears well in her eyes, he shook his head. “None of that now—’tisn’t the first time, if you want the truth of it, but one of these days, ‘twill be the last.” His hand closed over hers and held it. “Marry Lyndon here—he at least knows something about shipping . . . can keep his eye on my business, you know.” His fingers tightened as his eyes pleaded with her. “Make your mama and me proud, Leah—be a fine lady.”
    â€œPapa—”
    â€œNo sense lyin’ to you anymore is there? Might be here a year from