England, May 1821

"Miles, you must save me."

Miles Beresford folded down the edges of his newspaper and met the harried gaze of his twin brother, Justin, who was standing in the doorway of Miles's study. No matter that they'd grown up together as children, it still shocked him to come face—to—face with Justin, given how much they looked alike. Though they'd been born only minutes apart and were mirror images of each other, their temperaments couldn't have been more different.

Justin, the elder, was all decency and goodness. A fair man, a pleasant man. Miles, on the other hand… He snickered at the thought of how anyone would describe him.

Unruly, a bounder, a rogue, devilish. He was even known to make matchmaking mamas faint dead away when he walked into a ballroom. None could deny he had a good head for business, and any decent Englishman respected someone who was good at business.

"Save you, brother? What have you gone and done now? Save a house of orphans who now want you to adopt them all? Rescue a nest of kittens from a tree and now they live under your bed, keeping you up with their cries? Carry a pretty young damsel miles in the rain after she twisted her ankle and now she wants to marry you?"

Justin frowned, his dark—brown eyes holding no glint of their usual humor at Miles's teasing. "I'm quite serious, Miles. I need your help."

It was normal for Miles to tease his brother about being such a stand—up gentleman. Justin was the eldest brother, the Duke of Wiltshire. They both bore the name of Beresford, but when their father had passed on five years ago, Justin had become the duke, and therefore everyone but Miles called him Lord Wiltshire or, if they were very close friends, just Wiltshire.

"Is it serious, then?" If his sensible brother truly needed rescuing of some kind, then that was sure to be genuine trouble. He raised a brow and waited for his brother to elaborate. Usually Miles was the one who needed saving, which meant, unfortunately, that he owed his brother a favor. Or, more accurately, several dozen. He'd lost count over the years. Such was the price of being the rogue of the family and not the gentleman.

Justin shifted restlessly on his feet. "I have guests arriving shortly."

"At Wiltshire Manor?" Miles asked.

As a duke, Justin often hosted house parties, but he rarely needing rescuing from them. He was the perfect sort of man to host a delightful dinner, a musical gala, or even a vigorous fox hunt. This made Miles infinitely curious as to what sort of guests would strike fear in the heart of his sociable and likable brother.

The look of consternation upon his face filled Miles with curiosity. He set the paper down on his desk and leaned forward. The study in which they sat was quiet, the only sound being the tick of the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. Miles may have been a rogue, but he kept his estate, Beresford House, orderly and comfortable, even if it was a bachelor residence. More often than not, Justin would ride over from Wiltshire Manor in the morning, and the two of them would share breakfast and catch each other up on news.

"Justin, why do you need saving? Seeing as you are the one who invited them, you ought to be able to deal with them. You know I'm not a good guest. I find myself rather bored with innocent young ladies. Now, if it's a lusty widow you need distracted, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

"Well, it does involve a few ladies coming to the house, and I do need your help with them—but no lusty widows, I'm afraid." Justin raked a hand through his dark hair, mussing it. Miles tended to keep his hair a little longer than was fashionable, if only to turn heads and cause scandal.

"Oh no, the last time you asked me to seduce a woman to keep her out of your way, I almost ended up leg—shackled to Freddy Poncenby's little sister. Do you have any idea what that would have done to a man like me? Married to that little redheaded creature? She was far too quiet for my tastes, and her brother is a notorious dandy. Can't have one of those in the family. Dreadful bore. Last dinner we were at he spent the entire meal discussing the cut of one's waistcoat and the style of folding one's cravat."

"Are you done complaining? I'm more than happy to remind you that you owe me, little brother." There was a hint of humor in his brother's eyes that hadn't been there before. It reminded Miles of when they were lads and Justin had raged about some scheme or another that had gotten them in trouble—a scheme Miles had usually come up with and Justin had been obliging enough to join in. Yet each time they'd been caught, Justin's eyes would twinkle, and he'd find a way to evade both their parents' displeasure and their punishment.

"There are some things I won't do for any man, not even you." Miles attempted to return his attention to his paper, but Justin leaned forward and shoved the paper down.

"Miles, don't make me beg." Anxiety darkened Justin's eyes, stirring a worry in Miles. When had his brother ever had to beg for help? Never. That alone meant it was serious.

He sat up in the wingback chair he'd been lounging in. "Very well, what must I do?"

Justin's face relaxed, and he took the chair opposite Miles. "The manor house is in need of a solid fortune to keep it up. I've fallen behind on paying the debts Father left me with."

Miles's fingers crushed the paper he'd been holding. "How long?" His brother hadn't told him that their childhood home was in dire financial straits? Miles swallowed down the bitter taste in his mouth. They were brothers. He should have shared this with him. Miles had inherited a smaller estate, Beresford House, which had no debts, and he'd made his own comfortable fortune since then. He'd always assumed Justin had been able to do the same. It seemed he hadn't, but what hurt him was that he hadn't come to Miles for help when he should have.

Justin's dark brows drew together. "I know I should have told you about the debts."

A pulse of anger stirred inside Miles. "Yes, by God, you should have. We're brothers, Justin. These are exactly the kinds of things you ask your brother to help you with."

Justin gave an apologetic nod of his head. "I'm sorry, Miles. I didn't have the courage to admit to you that I was failing in my duties." Justin paused. "That is why I've been considering marrying an heiress to secure Wiltshire Manor's future."

Miles rose from his chair and stared at his brother. "You aren't failing. Father left the manor house with debts. Few men would have luck paying them down on their own. But you should have come to me. I could have advised you on investments. Now you intend to throw away your happiness and marry for money? Whatever happened to marrying for love? You always believed in that."