"If a marriage is valued at ten thousand, surely I might have a waltz for three hundred." Her fingers clenched into very determined-looking fists. "So you know about the debt." He nodded. "If I'd known the prize, I might have wagered a larger sum against your brother." "I am not for sale." Clearly he could argue with that, but from the abrupt horror in her grass green eyes, she'd realized that at the same moment she'd spoken. 'Horror.' He'd been forced into things he didn't relish by the lure of funds- or of having them cut off- but the blunt had been the reward for compliance. What was her reward? Marriage to Cosgrove?"