PROLOGUE

January 1781, Reculver Court, Prior’s Norton, Gloucestershire

For most of his life, Daniel Shelbourne had been aware that the family finances were at a low ebb. By the time he left Eton, he’d known that the estate was barely showing a profit … and during his last months at Oxford everything had continued to slide still further downhill. There wasn’t enough money to make the necessary repairs to the tenants’ cottages or replace the rotting window-frames at the Court; staff had been drastically reduced and Mama seldom entertained any more.

Attempts to persuade his father to discuss the problem hit a brick wall of resistance and Daniel’s tentative suggestions for what might be done to improve matters fell on deaf ears. As a consequence, he had no idea how truly bad the situation had become until he sat down with the lawyers in the wake of his father’s funeral and learned about the debts.

‘Debts?’ he echoed. ‘What debts? No money has been spent here that I’m aware of. And my father hasn’t been away from home to spend it elsewhere for more than three years.’

The lawyers, father and son, exchanged glances before looking at him. Then Mr Longhope senior explained that, against all advice to the contrary, his late lordship had been ‘borrowing from Peter to pay Paul’. In short, he had taken out a second loan to pay the interest on the first one.

Loans? What loans? For a minute, due to the roaring in his ears, Daniel was beyond speech. But eventually, he managed to say, ‘And the original loan … what was that for?’

‘His lordship did not see fit to share that information,’ came the prim reply.

No. Of course he didn’t. Stupid of me to ask , Daniel thought. But said, ‘I see. However, presumably you do know how long all this been going on?’

The answer to this caused his stomach to sink still further. The appropriate documents were laid before him. They showed that the first loan had been taken out during his final year at Oxford; and the second, four years ago. His father, it seemed, had been punting on the River Tick for eight years.

‘And how much,’ he asked, ‘is currently owing?’

This time, Longhope’s reply almost made his eyes water. It made no sense. The estate might not be profitable but it just about scraped by – or he’d thought it had. So why had Father needed to borrow so much? And for what – since it clearly hadn’t been spent on repairs or improvements?

The lawyers went on talking, advising him to retrench.

Retrench? he thought wildly. How? We don’t spend a penny we don’t have to.

They moved on to delicately suggesting items he might consider selling. The land, of course, was entailed. But paintings and other decorative objects … some of the horses? And perhaps Lady Reculver’s jewels? They were sure, they’d said encouragingly, that he could raise this quarter’s interest in that way.

And what about the next quarter? And the quarter after that?

But he didn’t bother to say it. There was no point, after all. He merely rose, thanked Messrs. Longhope for their time and bade them farewell. Then, because he couldn’t bear the thought of facing his mother and sister yet, he went instead, like a sleep-walker, to the library where his friends, since their first days at Eton to their last ones at Oxford and now closer than brothers, waited for him.

***

Christian, Lord Hazelmere, Benedict Hawkridge and Anthony Wendover looked at him, the same unspoken question in all of their eyes. Then, apparently interpreting his expression, Anthony rose to drop a hand on to his shoulder and press him into a seat; Benedict crossed to pour brandy and put a glass in his hand; and Christian said quietly, ‘When you’re ready, tell us how we can help. Anything at all. You need only say.’

Daniel nodded and, staring sightlessly into the glass, murmured, ‘Thank you.’ Then, realising he had to do better than that, he summoned a travesty of a smile and added, ‘I appreciate the offer.’

All three gentlemen looked at him. Benedict said what they were all thinking.

‘He appreciates the offer but won’t take us up on it.’

Since this was true, Daniel didn’t bother denying it. He said, ‘It’s can’t, not won’t. I can’t take you up on it. Father’s affairs … well, things are a bit worse than I expected.’

‘Meaning they’re much worse,’ translated Christian. Then, ‘Daniel … you don’t need to name the problem. We can guess what it is, if not the scale of it. Why not at least let us make it smaller?’

He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

‘Don’t be so stiff-necked,’ Anthony admonished.

‘I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are. If you weren’t, you’d talk to us. There may be more than one way of approaching this and – ’

‘There isn’t.’

‘You can’t know that,’ objected Christian. Then, sighing, ‘All right. You won’t accept financial help for the same reason you’ve always refused it in the past. But bottling it up and brooding over it on your own isn’t going to solve anything. Anthony’s right. Talk to us.’

‘Unless,’ suggested Benedict deviously, ‘you don’t trust us?’

Daniel swore under his breath. ‘You know it isn’t that.’

‘He does. Just as he knew it wasn’t that when he used the same tactic to make me confess my dark secret,’ said Christian calmly. ‘But that doesn’t make him wrong. You said the situation is worse than you anticipated. Worse how?’ And after a few moments when Daniel continued to say nothing, ‘You may as well tell us. There’s no way we’re going to leave you to sink or swim on your own.’

This time the silence was a long one. But finally, on something resembling a groan, Daniel muttered, ‘All right. If you must know, my father left … unexplained debts.’

‘Go on,’ encouraged Benedict.

‘He – he took out not one but two loans which are still outstanding.’ And shoving a hand through his hair, ‘I can’t begin to imagine what possessed him. He was struggling to pay the interest – so there was no chance in hell he’d ever be able to repay the capital.’

He didn’t add, And neither can I , but his friends heard it anyway.

‘Who are the lenders?’ asked Anthony. ‘Someone reputable, I hope?’

‘Firms in the City. Fleetwick? Fleetwood?’ He rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘The one who advanced the larger sum was something like that. I can’t remember exactly.’

‘How much?’ asked Benedict bluntly.

Daniel shook his head. ‘No. I’ve already said more than I meant to. I know you’d all offer a loan and I’m grateful. But I can’t accept. If I can’t repay the loan companies, I can’t repay you either. And I refuse to be in debt to my friends.’

‘Your friends,’ said Christian quietly, ‘won’t be demanding interest. And they won’t force you from your home. Think about it, Daniel … and about your mother and sister while you’re at it. Then perhaps then we can talk about this again.’

~**~**~