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bairns. Don’t get me wrong, Sir Chase, I’m fond of my family, all of them, but four infants in a house this size is enough to put any young woman off unless she’s the motherly sort. And I don’t think that Caterina is. She wants to practise her piano and her singing. Did I tell you she has a fine voice?’ Not stopping to notice the expression on his guest’s face, he continued. ‘Oh, yes, she’s invited to sing in all the great houses, you know. Takes it very seriously. Yes, indeed.’

      ‘And your son, Harry? You mentioned he’d returned to Liverpool.’

      ‘This morning on the early mail, back to his uncle. He’s learning banking. My late brother’s business, you know. Lady Elyot’s first husband.’

      ‘That’s not quite what he told me when we met in London, sir.’

      Stephen Chester’s expression sharpened, his eyes suddenly wary. ‘Oh? What did he tell you?’ he said, coughing between sips of brandy.

      ‘That he owned two banks in Liverpool. Money no object.’

      Stephen stopped his pacing and slammed down his glass. ‘Wait till I get my hands on him,’ he muttered. ‘He’s determined to see me on the rocks. As if I didn’t have problems enough.’

      There was an uncomfortable silence during which both men saw these problems from rather different angles, Sir Chase concentrating more on Caterina than on her siblings. She kept rejecting totally unsuitable marriage proposals, yet was desperate to regain the peace she had once known in which she could develop her talents. This was no place for a woman of her sort.

      Her father, in his blinkered state, had done less than justice to her talents by not explaining how, in her years of living in Richmond, her voice had been trained by the finest singing teacher in the country, the Italian Signor Rauzzini, until his death last year. That had been a terrible blow to Caterina, for he had nurtured her voice, proclaiming it to be the finest mezzo-soprano he’d heard in one so young. She still had singing lessons and was greatly in demand, but the pressure of having to find a husband to please her parents and sister was having a noticeable effect on her. Her Aunt Amelie had offered to lend her the prized phaeton so that Caterina could escape more often from the domestic pandemonium.

      Sir Chase Boston doubted very much that young Harry Chester would be the ruin of his father, but he did not intend to let Chester off the hook when the debt was so substantial, for debt-collecting was what he had come for, not to offer sympathy. The father would deal with his son as he thought fit and the fright of it might help to knock some sense into both their heads. But he himself was beginning to see that there was perhaps more to be gained from Chester’s misfortune than twenty thousand guineas plus the price of the phaeton and pair. ‘Well, then, sir,’ he said, glancing at the inferior brandy, ‘shall we do a few sums to begin with? For the carriage, I would say about…’

      ‘Er…’ Stephen Chester put out a hand as if to ward off the sound of debt ‘…do you think…er?’

      Impassively, Sir Chase waited. He had learned how to be patient, how not to show his hand too soon, as this man did.

      ‘Er…that there might be another way? An alternative?’ It was as if he was talking to himself. ‘I simply don’t have that kind of blunt, any more than my birdwitted son does. The Buxton house would not sell for anything like enough. To be honest, it’s far more than I would have believed.’ He looked around him, anxiously chewing at the side of his finger. ‘And I’m not sure what I can do about it. Let me think. The dowry, Caterina’s dowry. Well, it looks as if that may not be needed after all, although I shall need something for Sara—but then, if the dowry is reduced, her chances will be even less, won’t they? In fact, they may even disappear altogether,’ he added, habitually accepting the darker side.

      ‘This dowry. Is it substantial, sir?’

      ‘Hah! Anything but substantial,’ said Mr Chester, gloomily. ‘So far, Caterina’s face and family have been her fortune, but that won’t always be the case, will it? I’d say her chances have all but slipped away unless she finds somebody to fit her exacting requirements.’ There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

      ‘And you would not consider making an exception by allowing your younger daughter to marry first, simply to take the cost of her off your hands? You must admit, sir, it would make a difference.’

      ‘No, Sir Chase. I could not do that. It would not be proper. Besides, it would acknowledge that I have given up hope of marrying the elder one off, wouldn’t it? She’d be well and truly stuck on the shelf then.’

      ‘At twenty-three, sir? Surely not.’

      ‘At twenty-three, my first wife had a family of three,’ he replied, sharply. ‘No, if Caterina is going to be so difficult to please, I may be obliged to make up her mind for her. She could do worse than accept St Helen’s, if he’s still interested. But he may not be, without a dowry, and I can hardly bear to think what Caterina herself would have to say about it, though I might be able to hazard a guess. She might be persuaded to see it as her duty, but I dare say it would go ill with her to see her sister marry a man of her choice when she was not allowed to. Still…’ he sighed ‘…a duty is a duty, though that won’t find me all of twenty thousand guineas, will it? Do you know, I could kill that son of mine. He must know that a man cannot turn his back on a gambling debt. His tailor is a different kettle of fish, but never a man who wins his wager.’ Then he rallied. ‘Oh, do forgive me. I should not be talking to you like this, Sir Chase. Not the done thing at all, is it?’

      ‘And would your wife’s family not—?’

      ‘Help?’ Mr Chester yelped. ‘Good grief, man, no! I would never let Mrs Chester hear a whisper about all this, or I’d never hear the last of it. Besides, she has enough troubles with four of her own bairns. Absolutely not!’

      ‘So Miss Chester would not tell her?’

      ‘That my son has got me under the hatches and cleared off to Liverpool?’ Stephen Chester looked at Sir Chase as if he’d taken leave of his senses. ‘I should think not. His stepmother has little enough good opinion of him as it is. And I can’t say I blame her. This would only add fuel to her sentiment that he should have been packed off into the navy.’

      ‘There are liabilities in every family, sir.’

      ‘Hum! Glad to hear it. However, the problem is mine and I must be left to deal with it as best I may. Leave it with me, Sir Chase, if you will be so good. I shall call on you tomorrow with my proposals. Are you staying at Mortlake?’

      ‘I wonder…’ said Sir Chase, glancing out of the window.

      ‘Eh?’

      ‘I wonder if you would care to hear my suggestion, sir.’

      ‘If it’s about borrowing from some cent-per-cent you know, forget it. I never borrow anything.’

      ‘It’s not that.’ Sir Chase stood on the opposite side of the table with his arms spread like buttresses, drawing the older man’s attention to him by the force of his considerable presence. ‘You want your daughter married, and you believe her chances are dwindling. Well, I may be able to help you there.’

      ‘You know somebody, do you?’ said Stephen Chester, despondently.

      Sir Chase thought his host was the dourest of men, though his excuse was certainly a valid one. Not for one moment did he himself think that Miss Caterina Chester’s case was as serious as her father appeared to believe. At the age of twenty-three, many débutantes were already married, that much was true, but this one was obviously looking for something not on her father’s list and was prepared to wait for it. Nor did he believe that she was on the shelf. Not even approaching it. She was, in fact, the most prime article he’d ever clapped eyes on, but even a Johnny-Raw could see that her father and stepmother between them were handling her more like a child than a grown woman with a mind of her own. That being so, Chester might jump at his offer, and he himself would have to take a different route to achieve his aim. ‘Yes,’

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