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    Chills
    Book 1 of the Distinguished Rogues series
     
    Chapter One
     
    London
    Spring, 1813
     
    Constance Grange tucked a stray, dark curl behind her ear and stared at the numbers on the page until they blurred into meaningless shapes. “This simply must be some sort of terrible mistake?”
    She liked the indistinct blobs far better than the appalling amount of debt accumulated since her father’s death. No matter which way she looked at the single sheet, her small family was in a precarious position.
     “As far as I can tell, this is the bulk of your extravagances,” Mr. Medley assured her.
    Constance gripped the page until it bent to fit the contours of her fingers. Medley, her family’s man-of-business, had followed her to the Marquess of Ettington’s London residence to demand payments she did not have. She had come to visit Virginia , not to deal with another parental mess. She wished he had waited to deliver his bad tidings on her return home. Could he not have waited a mere six days?
    He placed a leather-strapped box onto Constance ’s lap without her pardon, smiling in a way that hardly reassured. It sat awkwardly on her knees, but she opened the lid to examine the untidy stack of papers contained within.
    To Mrs. Peabody of Sutton Place , one thousand pounds, Faro. The bill dated February, 20.
    She prayed the stiff paper would turn to dust once exposed to light. When it didn’t, she set the bill aside and read the next.
    Mrs. Brampton of Currant Place five hundred and five pounds, Whist. This one dated January, 16.
    Constance laid the promissory note atop the first and delved into the stack of papers. Aside from debts to her mama’s so-called friends, there were outstanding bills to almost every tradesman in Sunderland . The tally was a huge blow. Constance could not afford the luxury of visiting with Virginia now. At the rate her mama was going, they would need to sell their home to repay even half the debt. Thank heavens it was not entailed.
    When she reached the bottom, Constance stared at the fine, timber grain before methodically returning each sheet of parchment. She closed the lid tight.
    The embarrassment was overwhelming. She couldn’t meet Virginia ’s gaze. “You said there might be more?”
    “It would be useful if your mother had kept a record. I've often requested prompt notice of her spending, but she has never obliged me in that regard.”
    Since the beginning of this interview, there had been an undercurrent of hostility in Mr. Medley’s tone. She studied his pallid countenance. The smirk twisting his lips confirmed he enjoyed his errand.
    Her stomach churned. “I thank you for bringing this matter to my direct attention. You can be sure we will provide the funds as soon as possible.”
    Constance attempted to return the box to his hands. As the family’s man-of-business he would normally see to any payments, but he shook his shiny head.
    “There is only one more bill for your attention.” Mr. Medley pulled a folded sheet from his inner pocket and placed it on top of the lidded box. “That one I would appreciate payment on as a matter of some urgency.”
    He pulled a second paper from his other pocket and placed it on top without a word.
    “What is that last bill?”
    “It is not a bill for payment, Miss Grange, it is my notice. In all my years in business, I never entertained the notion that I would have two such frivolous women in need of my services. You are both horrifically excessive in your tastes and should be heartily ashamed of yourselves for squandering a fortune such as you had. And so quickly, too. Debtors prison will teach you to curb your—”
    “That will be enough.” A chilling voice cracked across the room, halting Mr. Medley’s tirade.
    Constance dropped her gaze to her lap. Of all the mortifying events that could occur today, this