But all of his good humor fled when he reached the drawing room to see Lucy sitting next to Lady Norcourt. Not that Lucy sitting and laughing with her had ruined his good humor; it had been her mention of a debt that made bile burn the back of his throat. Every muscle in his body tensed as he demanded to know what trap his mother had ensnared Lucy into. “Miss Whitaker has agreed to help me at the library,” Lady Norcourt explained. Giles searched Lucy’s face but didn’t know what he was looking for. “Do you want to?” She nodded once. “Yes. Unless you don’t want me there.” He shrugged. Why would he not want her there? It was his mother he didn’t trust, not her. “In the hall, please?” Lucy and his mother exchanged a look. “I’m assuming you’d like to talk to me privately?” Lady Norcourt asked, standing.
