“Didn’t,” Bourne said.

“Michael!” Penelope scolded. “That’s not very kind.”

“It’s true.”

“How would you like them to tell the truth about our courtship?” Penelope asked.

Remembering, no doubt, that the Marquess and Marchioness of Bourne were married after a late-night abduction in the country, Bourne had the grace to stop talking.

Duncan looked to Georgiana, a smile on his handsome face. “It sounds like you lost a bet, my lady.”

As it had for a year, the honorific sent a flood of heat through her. “It does not feel much like losing.”

He grinned. “It doesn’t, does it?”

“Well, since we are talking about Chase’s potential husbands, now is as good a time as any to discuss Langley, who has asked us to join him in making an investment,” Temple added.

The table groaned.

“This man. Chase, you must stop giving him our money,” Bourne said.

“He’s a terrible record with investments, and we keep helping him,” Cross pointed out.

“I am sorry – I did not know the two of you were so close to the workhouse,” Georgiana said.

“He is a good man,” Duncan interjected. “He practically delivered me my beautiful wife.”

“Only because he did not want her himself,” Temple teased, and all the scoundrels laughed.

“I refuse to be insulted,” she said. “And Duncan likes the sound of this one.”

He nodded. “Something called a photographic negative.”

“It sounds like something from a novel,” Bourne said. “Like flying machines and horseless carriages.”

“I don’t think those things sound so implausible,” Pippa said.

Bourne looked to her. “That’s because you think implausibility is a challenge.”

She looked to Cross with a smile. “I suppose I do.”

The earl leaned in and kissed his wife soundly. “It is a large part of your charm.”

“Shall we play?” Georgiana asked, leaning forward and reaching for the cards.

What had once been a game only for the owners had become a standing weekly faro game for the eight of them.

Temple sat with a sigh. “I don’t know why I play. I never win anymore. It all went to hell when we let the wives in.” He looked to Duncan. “Apologies, mate.”

Duncan smiled. “I am happy to be a wife if you don’t mind my fleecing you each week.”

Mara put her hand to her husband’s cheek. “Poor Temple,” she said. “Would you like to play something else?”

He met her gaze, all seriousness. “Yes, but you won’t want to play it in front of everyone else.”

Another round of groans went up as the duchess leaned in to kiss her duke.

Georgiana sat back. “Perhaps we should not play.”

Bourne looked up from where he was pouring scotch. “Because Temple wants to take his wife to bed?”

She smiled. “No…” She looked to her husband. “Because I believe we are about to discover if it is twins after all.”

Far below, through the famed stained glass window, the roulette wheel spun and the dice rolled and the cards flew, and that night became legendary – the night fortune smiled on the members of The Fallen Angel.

Just as it smiled on its founder, and her love.