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will be the death of her!”
    Miss Burnley’s eyes blazed with a desperate determination as she pleaded with the general. The old man looked stunned, shifting uncomfortably in his leather chair.
    Silverton had always prided himself on his understanding, but he couldn’t imagine what could lead an obviously well-bred young lady to make such an impassioned statement. He was used to his mother’s domestic dramas and occasional histrionics, but Miss Burnley did not strike him as a woman given to hysterics. Quite the contrary, he was willing to bet she would be as levelheaded a woman as one could meet.
    The situation was rapidly spinning out of control. His uncle was struck dumb, and Miss Burnley seemed unwilling to provide any more clarity to a story positively gothic in nature. Obviously, he had to try and get to the bottom of this before it got any murkier.
    â€œMiss Burnley.” Silverton forced his voice to remain gentle. “If you could reveal the exact nature of this threat, it would help us to better understand your sister’s predicament.”
    Her shoulders slumped in weary resignation against the back of the club chair. “My uncle wishes to confine her in a private lunatic asylum.”
    Silverton felt his temples begin to throb as he realized what would happen next. He bit back a curse as he looked at his uncle, who was doing a passable imitation of one of Congreve’s rockets about to explode. Any amusement he had felt toward the day’s proceedings had just gone up in a puff of smoke.
    â€œA madhouse?” The general practically levitated out of his chair. “Do you mean to tell me the girl is insane?” His face mottled with fury as he pointed a shaking finger at Miss Burnley. “This is what comes from marrying inferior blood! I won’t have it, I tell you. I won’t have a madwoman in my family. Your family obviously carries the taint, and your uncle must deal with it as he sees fit. You will leave the Stantons out of it.”
    Silverton, dimly aware of Robert gulping like a stranded fish in the corner, felt paralyzed both by Miss Burnley’s words and by his uncle’s furious outburst. If she didn’t swoon now, it would be a miracle.
    She did appear stunned, but her shock was rapidly displaced by a growing wrath. Her hands clenched into fists, and her face turned ghostly pale but for two patches of red flying high on her cheekbones. Silverton watched, reluctantly fascinated as she flexed her hands and wrestled her anger under control. She stood, drawing herself up to her full and imposing height. In spite of the awfulness of the situation, he couldn’t help but think that Miss Burnley looked absolutely magnificent, with her generous bosom heaving and her silver eyes luminescent with fury.
    â€œGeneral Stanton,” she said in an icy but surprisingly well-modulated voice, “you will note the only person in this room lacking control is you. Your behavior is, I think, quite mad! I must conclude that if there is a taint of insanity, it resides in your branch of the family, not mine. As you can see, I am perfectly rational and in control.”
    As if to prove her point, she folded her hands in a ladylike clasp and sat primly back down in her seat.
    â€œPerfectly rational, perfectly rational!” roared the general. “By God, I’ll have you thrown out into the street before you insult this family again.”
    Silverton managed to recover the movement of his limbs, stepping hastily forward to stand between Miss Burnley and his uncle’s desk.
    â€œYou’ll excuse me, sir, but I hardly think this discussion will benefit either you or Miss Burnley. I urge you to sit down. You do not look well.”
    The general opened his mouth as if to argue the point, but he looked truly overcome by the events. He bobbed his head once and sank back into his chair.
    â€œMiss Burnley,” Silverton said, swiveling his head to capture