Lord Portman's Troublesome Wife. Mary Nichols

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      As they crossed the pavement towards the carriage, they found themselves face to face with Lord Portman, who was on his way to a meeting of the Gentleman’s Club. Today he was in blue and white, elegant as ever. He swept off his sugar-loaf hat and executed a graceful leg. ‘Good morning, Miss Chalmers. A fine day, is it not?’

      Rosamund curtsied. ‘Yes, indeed, very fine.’ She turned to her aunt. ‘Aunt, may I present Lord Portman. My lord, my aunt, Mrs Jessica Bullivant.’

      He bowed. ‘Ma’am, your obedient.’

      She inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘Lord Portman.’

      He hurried to open the carriage door for her and handed her in and then turned to do the same courtesy for Rosamund. He closed the door and ordered the coachman to proceed, then watched as the carriage drew away. Then he went on his way, mincing a little and twirling his cane, looking thoughtful.

      ‘When did you meet that gentleman?’ Jessica demanded, jerking her head backwards towards Harry.

      ‘Yesterday in the park. Max introduced us and we walked together for a little.’

      ‘I had no idea Maximilian knew his lordship,’ her aunt said, evidently aware of Lord Portman’s consequence.

      ‘I think they met at White’s.’

      ‘I am surprised that Max can afford to game with someone as prodigious rich as he is.’

      ‘How do you know he is rich?’ Rosamund asked. ‘Just because he evidently spends a fortune on his clothes does not mean he is wealthy. He could be in debt to his tailor.’

      ‘Oh, undoubtedly he is. What gentleman of his rank is not? But I have heard he inherited forty thousand a year besides Bishop’s Court in Middlesex and a hunting box in Leicestershire. Every unmarried girl for miles around would like to catch his eye.’

      ‘He told me had been married, but his wife died six years ago and he had found no one since to suit him.’

      ‘Did he now? That is a very personal disclosure for so new an acquaintance.’

      ‘Yes, but I asked him.’

      ‘Rosamund! How could you be so forward?’

      ‘It was done in self-defence; he was asking me about my marriage prospects and it annoyed me.’

      ‘What did you tell him?’

      ‘Nothing that he did not know already,’ Rosamund said gloomily. ‘His lordship was not the only one revealing personal details. Max was particularly forthcoming. He told him about Papa not providing for me and the fact that I was contemplating being a lady’s companion. He even said I would like to marry to avoid that. I was exceedingly cross with him.’

      ‘Whatever was Max thinking of?’

      ‘I think he and his lordship’s friend, Sir Ashley Saunders, were trying to throw us together. Lord Portman certainly thought so…’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He treated it as a jest.’

      ‘Yes, I can see he would—why would he consider you when he could have the pick of London’s débutantes?’

      This scathing comment did nothing to bolster Rosamund’s self-esteem and she fell silent. But she was not so much humiliated as furious. It was a mood that stayed with her the rest of the day and stopped her thinking about her future with Lady Bonhaven. She went back to her father’s papers, determined to go through them with a fine-tooth comb to see if there was any way the lawyer could have been mistaken and there was some small bequest for her.

      ‘There is a clever coiner passing guineas in London,’ Harry told the rest of the group. ‘I have picked up two myself.’ He took the two fake guineas from his pocket and laid them on the table. ‘I’d be obliged if you would look out for guineas like these.’

      Jonathan pulled out his purse and tipped the contents on to the table. ‘I do not think there are any bad ones here,’ he said, picking his coins up one at a time and returning them to his purse.

      The others followed suit and Ash was found to have one in his money. ‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ he said. ‘Where did that come from?’

      ‘It would help if you could remember,’ Harry said, taking possession of the coin.

      ‘I’ve bought nothing that needed change in guineas,’ Ash said.

      ‘A debt repaid?’ Harry prompted. ‘Or a win at cards? I ask because one of these…’ he indicated the two he had brought with him, then put all three in his pocket ‘…was in the pot when we played at White’s the day before yesterday.’

      ‘You think I put it in?’

      ‘Anyone could have done so. You, Stafford or Chalmers. Inadvertently, of course.’

      ‘Even you,’ Ash said, with a grin.

      ‘No, for I have handled too many of them to be taken in. Examine all your winnings in future, will you?’

      ‘Certainly I will.’

      ‘Have you any idea who the counterfeiters might be?’ James asked.

      ‘No, but I am looking and listening. If I can find out who they are, then I must also find out where it is being done in order to produce evidence. Possession of a single guinea is not evidence; anyone could have innocently accepted and tried to pass on a fake coin. But I wish you all to be on your guard.’

      ‘We will all do that,’ James said, and with that the meeting broke up.

      ‘It was Benedict put most in the pot,’ Ash reminded Harry as they left. ‘And he did leave somewhat hurriedly.’

      ‘Yes, but that was because he hoped I had forgotten to ask for his voucher. If he had guineas to spare, he would not cry hard up, would he?’

      ‘Chalmers, by his own admission, has pockets to let.’

      ‘That is the tale he tells to unload his sister on to an unsuspecting bridegroom,’ Harry said. ‘I do not believe it.’

      ‘Poor woman.’

      ‘Yes, I know you feel sorry for her, Ash. I suggest you marry her yourself.’

      ‘I do not need a bride. On the other hand, you do. For someone who owns a vast estate like Bishop’s Court and no direct heir, it is a necessity.’

      ‘I am more concerned with tracking down whoever is passing false guineas and hoping he will lead me to the coiners.’

      ‘Yes, I should like to see them in chains myself. I do not like having my pockets raided…’

      ‘Raided, Ash?’

      ‘Well, you have deprived me of a guinea and put it in your own pocket.’

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