Lady Eve's Indiscretion

He got up, crossed the room, and paused to kiss Eve’s forehead before he left for his appointment with the duke.

A good man, a wonderful brother, and even a dear friend.

And still, Eve hadn’t told him she’d agreed to another outing with Deene. Hadn’t told her sisters either.

* * *

Deene bit into a pastry only to pull the thing from his mouth and stare at it.

Stale as hardtack, not just inadvertently left sitting out for an hour.

“Something amiss, Cousin?” Anthony lounged at the foot of the table, the Times at his elbow and a steaming plate of eggs, kippers, and toast before him.

“Nothing that a few helpings of omelet won’t set to rights.” Deene dug in, wondering vaguely why the Times wasn’t sitting at his own elbow.

Anthony glanced up from the paper. “You’re off to Surrey today?”

“I am, and in the company of three lovely ladies. Envy me.”

“Three? I’d heard you occasionally entertained two at once, but three is ambitious even for you.” Anthony topped off his teacup from the pot near his other elbow.

“My record is four, if you must know, Denning pride being what it is. And they all four had red hair. Pass the pot, would you?”

What an asinine waste of a night that had been, too. Five people hardly fit in a very large bed, for God’s sake, even when stacked in various gymnastic combinations.

“Why ever would you attempt to please four women at once?” Anthony sounded genuinely intrigued as he slid the pot down the table.

“The idea was for them to please me—which they rather did—and to prove false a certain allegation regarding that dread condition known as whiskey dick in relation to a certain courtesy earl in the Deene succession.”

“I am agog at the lengths you’ve been forced to go to defend the family honor, Lucas.”

Anthony went back to his paper, in case his ironic tone hadn’t underscored the point clearly enough. Just when Deene might have helped himself to more eggs, Anthony looked up again. “Which three ladies will you entertain today?”

“Louisa, Countess of Kesmore, as well as Genevieve and Eve Windham. We’re paying a call on King William, and I am escorting them, not entertaining them.”

“A pretty trio, but two of them are perilously unmarried, need I remind you.”

“As am I, need I remind you. When do you think you can have some figures ready for me, Anthony?”

Anthony peered at the paper and turned the pages over. “Which figures would those be?”

“The ones relating to our cash, our blunt, our coin of the realm.”

Anthony went still in a way that indicated he was not even trying to look like he was reading, but was instead merely staring at the paper while he formulated a polite reply. He sat back and frowned at his empty plate.

“You’re determined on this? You really want to wade through years’ worth of musty ledgers and obscure accountings? I’d commend you for your zeal, but it’s a complicated, lengthy undertaking, and it truly won’t yield you any better sense of things than you have now.”

“I want to know where I stand, Anthony.”

He needed to know, in fact, though he was hardly going to admit that to Anthony, cousin or not.

“Don’t worry.” Anthony’s smile was sardonic. “We’ve the blunt to keep you in red-haired whores for as long as you’re able to enjoy them four at a time.”

Deene dispatched the last of his eggs and rose. “Perhaps we can start on that accounting after breakfast tomorrow.” He’d phrased it as a suggestion between cousins, though Anthony ought to have heard it as something closer to an order from his employer.

Anthony lifted his teacup in a little salute. “Your servant. Enjoy the ladies—but not too much.”

Whatever that meant.

The day was fair, though not quite warm. In a fit of optimism, Deene had the horses put to the landau. The vehicle had been imported just before the old marquis’s death and was the best appointed of the town coaches. Deene elected to drive the thing rather than endure unnecessary miles sitting backward and trying to make small talk with the Windham sisters.

When he got to the Windham townhouse, he found Lady Eve waiting for him in the family parlor, dressed for an outing but sporting a mulish expression.

“You’re here.”

Her inauspicious greeting indicated they were about to spar. He kept his expression politely neutral, despite the temptation to smile. “Was I supposed to be somewhere else?”

“No, you were not.” She crossed the room in a swish of skirts. “My sisters are supposed to be here as well, ready to depart with us, but no, Louisa has begged off, and Jenny just sent Hammet to tell me she is also utterly, immediately, and incurably indisposed for the day.”

Eve was piqued. It was on the tip of Deene’s tongue to say they could simply reschedule—or better still, cancel altogether—but something in her expression stopped him.

“Would you be disappointed to miss this outing, Lady Eve?”

She swished over to the window and stood facing the back gardens. “Disappointed? Merely to miss a few hours in the country, stepping around the odoriferous evidence of livestock? Of course not.”

She was an endearingly bad liar. He came up behind her and put both hands on her shoulders to prevent any more of this swishing about, and spoke very quietly near her ear.

“You would so be disappointed.” He could feel it quivering through her, an indignation that her siblings would desert her like this.

She turned, forcing him to drop his hands. He did not step back.

“The weather bids fair to be a lovely day, my lord. I haven’t seen the countryside since we spent the holidays at Morelands, and I have every confidence Mr. Trottenham intends to speak to Papa this very afternoon.”

She was not about to admit she’d been panting to make the acquaintance of his horse, but Deene was almost certain this was her true motive. By the end of the day, he vowed he would make her admit her objective honestly.

“Come with me anyway, Lady Eve. I brought the landau, the staff at The Downs is expecting our party, and once the Season gets underway, we’ll neither of us have time for an outing.”

She was wavering. He could see her wavering in the way she almost worried a nail between her teeth but recalled at the last moment she was wearing gloves.

“Or don’t come with me.” He slapped his gloves against his thigh. “I’ll get a great deal more accomplished if I’m not forced to play host to somebody reluctant to make even such an innocuous outing with an old family friend.”

Her fists went to her hips. “Forced, Deene? Did I force this invitation from you? Did I force you to boast about the capabilities of a mere colt such as I might see on any of a dozen racecourses? Did I tell you to bring an open carriage when the weather this time of year is anything but certain?”

He stepped closer but kept his voice down in contrast to Eve’s rising tones. “You will never see the like of this colt on any racecourse, unless King William is in the field. Never. This horse has more heart, more bottom, and more sheer, blazing—”

“Excuse me.” Esther, Duchess of Moreland, stood in the doorway, her expression puzzled. “Eve, I thought you would have left by now. One doesn’t get days this promising very often so early in spring. Deene, good morning.”

“Your Grace.” He bowed to the appropriate depth and wondered if Her Grace had heard him exchanging pleasantries with Eve.

“I am not inclined to go without Jenny and Louisa, Mama. They would be disappointed to miss such an excursion.”

Her Grace’s expression shifted to a smile more determined than gracious. “Nonsense. If they want to indulge in some extra rest, that’s no reason to deprive yourself of fresh air, or of the company of such an amiable gentleman as Deene. He’s practically family. Be off with you both, and, Deene, bring her home at a reasonable hour, or you will deal with me.”