This is from Elizabeth," it said. "She has sold Havenhurst." A pang of guilt and...

This is from Elizabeth," it said. "She has sold Havenhurst." A pang of guilt and shock sent Ian to his feet as he read the rest of the note: "I am to tell you that this is payment in full, plus appropriate interest, for the emeralds she sold, which, she feels, rightfully belonged to you."
Swallowing audibly, Ian picked up the bank draft and the small scrap of paper with it. On it Elizabeth herself had shown her calculation of the interest due him for the exact number of days since she'd sold the gems, until the date of her bank draft a week ago.
His eyes ached with unshed tears while his shoulders began to rock with silent laughter-Elizabeth had paid him half a percent less than the usual interest rate.
Thirty minutes later Ian presented himself to Jordan's butler and asked to see Alexandra. She walked into the room with accusation and ire shooting from her blue eyes as she said scornfully, "I wondered if that note would bring you here. Do you have any notion how much Havenhurst means-meant-to her?"
"I'll get it back for her," he promised with a somber smile. "Where is she?"
Alexandra's mouth fell open at the tenderness in his eyes and voice.
"Where is she?" he repeated with calm determination.
"I cannot tell you," Alex said with a twinge of regret.
"You know I cannot. I gave my word."
"Would it have the slightest effect," Ian countered smoothly, "if I were to ask Jordan to exert his husbandly influence to persuade you to tell me anyway?"
"I'm afraid not," Alexandra assured him. She expected him to challenge that; instead a reluctant smile drifted across his handsome face. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "You're very like Elizabeth. You remind me of her."
Still slightly mistrustful of his apparent change of heart, Alex said primly, "I deem that a great compliment, my lord."
To her utter disbelief, Ian Thornton reached out and chucked her under the chin. "I meant it as one," he informed her with a grin.
Turning, Ian started for the door, then stopped at the sight of Jordan, who was lounging in the doorway, an amused, knowing smile on his face. "If you'd keep track of your own wife, Ian, you would not have to search for similarities in mine." When their unexpected guest had left, Jordan asked Alex, "Are you going to send Elizabeth a message to let her know he's coming for her?"
Alex started to nod, then she hesitated. "I-I don't think so. I'll tell her that he where she is, which is all he really did."
"He'll go to her as soon as he figures it out."
"Perhaps."
"You still don't trust him, do you?" Jordan said with a surprised smile.
"I do after this last visit-to a certain extent-but with Elizabeth's heart. He's hurt her terribly, and I won't give her false hopes and, in doing so, help him hurt her again."
Reaching out, Jordan chucked her under the chin as his cousin had done, then he pulled her into his arms. "She's hurt him, too, you know."
"Perhaps," Alex admitted reluctantly.
Jordan smiled against her hair. "You were more forgiving when I trampled your heart, my love," he teased.
"That's because I loved ," she replied as she laid her cheek against his chest, her arms stealing around his waist.
"And will you love my cousin just a little if he makes amends to Elizabeth?"
"I might find it in my heart," she admitted, "if he gets Havenhurst back for her."
"It'll cost him a fortune if he tries," Jordan chuckled. "Do you know who bought it?"
"No, do you?"
He nodded. "Philip Demarcus."
She giggled against his chest. "Isn't he that dreadful man who told the prince he'd have to pay to ride in his new yacht up the Thames?"
"The very same."
"Do you suppose Mr. Demarcus cheated Elizabeth?"
"Not our Elizabeth," Jordan laughed. "But I wouldn't like to be in Ian's place if Demarcus realizes the place has sentimental value to Ian. The price will soar.