“Perfectly well.” She placed her hands in her lap. “But please leave. This isn’t a convenient time for a visit.”
Leo was so shocked by her dismissal that he was momentarily speechless. Looking around the parlor, he noticed how unusually dim it was. Only two candles burned in the room. The fire was banked low and barely provided any warmth against the evening chill.
“Where are your servants?” he asked.
There had only been the single maid who had answered his knock at the servants’ entrance—a maid who had seemed startled not by his unexpected appearance but because anyone had called at all.
“That shouldn’t concern you, Your Grace.” Marina’s voice sharpened, a brief flash of her usual spirit.
Leo moved closer, his gaze catching other details he’d missed in his initial anger. The tea service on the side table held only one cup. The curtains, which he recalled as being an elegant blue silk, had been replaced with simpler muslin. And Marina herself wore a gown he’d seen before though it had been nearly a fortnight since their encounter in the Ellinsworths’ library.
“Something has happened,” he said, not a question but a statement. “Tell me.”
“Please, Your Grace, I have much to attend to this evening.”
Leo sat in the chair across from her, his expression filled with determination. “I am not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. Why is your house practically dark?”
“I like the atmosphere.”
“Nonsense. Where are your staff?”
“I have given them a day off. They deserve it.”
She was lying. He knew it.
“Why do you look as though you have barely slept?”
Marina’s composure finally cracked. “Because I haven’t!” she snapped, rising abruptly. “I have spent the past three nightstrying to determine how to avoid complete ruin—not that it’s any of your business!”
“Make it my business,” he insisted, rising as well.
She turned away, her shoulders tight with tension. For a moment, he thought she would order him out again. Then she exhaled, a sound of pure defeat.
“What does it matter? You will find out soon enough when word gets out.” She faced him with resignation. “My late husband left substantial debts. One of his creditors has decided that now is the perfect time to collect, given my recent… literary success.”
Leo’s brow furrowed. “How substantial?”
“Six thousand originally. With interest, over nine thousand pounds.”
He let out a low whistle. “That is a significant sum, but surely arrangements could be made for payment over time?”
“He’s demanding five hundred pounds immediately with quarterly payments thereafter.” Marina gave a bitter laugh. “I barely have enough to feed myself and Betty for the month. I had to let the rest of my staff go today.”
Understanding dawned. “That explains the state of the house.”
“Yes.” Her voice grew small. “Betty insisted on staying though I can’t pay her properly.”
“And this creditor—who is he?”
“Robert Giles.” Marina’s expression twisted with distaste. “He learned of my writing from Mr. Lupton. They have apparently formed quite the convenient alliance. If I do not pay, they will expose me as the author of the stories.”
Leo’s mind rapidly processed this new information. “So that’s their leverage. Social ruin if you don’t pay.”
“Precisely.” She sank back into her chair. “Now will you leave? I would prefer to face my humiliation without an audience.”
Instead of leaving, Leo knelt before her chair, taking one of her cold hands in his. “Let me pay the debt.”
Marina jerked back as though burned. “Absolutely not!”