“Excellent. Sesquipedalian,” she spelled the word. “It means having many long syllables and has been in use for quite some time. I believe even the Roman poet Horace referenced it?”
“Well done, my lady.”
“Stop harassing our butler with silly conversations, sister,” Gabe said.
“They are not silly. I am broadening my mind. I would have thought that would make you happy.”
“I had no idea your mind was so narrow,” he teased her.
Abby poked out her tongue.
“I don’t remember you locking your door before.”
“I was tired and went to be early. I had no wish to have midnight conversations with any of you wandering in drunk and rambling about your latest love.” Abby smiled at Gabe. “So I locked my door.” Her heart was thudding hard inside her chest. If they found out what she’d done she’d be locked in her room for a year.
“We would never come into your room in that state!”
These words were from the youngest of her four brothers, Zachriel, or Zach as they called him. Closest to Abby in age, he had black hair and blue eyes like her. As children, they’d been inseparable.
The Deville brothers sent shudders of both delight and horror through society. Women were often awed by the sight of her four brothers, and usually simpering followed, which made Abby nauseous.
“I’m hoping the only reason was exactly that, Abby,” Gabriel said in that slow drawl he’d perfected. “If for any reason you had left the house, I would have been extremely displeased.”
Stay calm, they did not know.
In dealing with the youngest member of their family, her, the brothers took a four-pronged approach. Gabe laid down the rules, Michael was the peace keeper, Nathanial the charmer, and Zach felt it his duty to annoy her, which Abby didn’t mind as she reciprocated.
Black hair that was shot through with silver, black eyes, and a face that looked like it had been carved from granite. Abby had heard women comment on Gabe’s handsomeness and how they wished to swoon just looking at him. She thought they were idiots. No man was worth that, and especially not one of her brothers.
Or maybe one man could be worth it.
She loved her brothers, and they had been through much together. But there were a great many challenges of being the only woman in this household, especially as their parents were deceased. Yes, they had aunts and cousins, but for the most she was stuck with these four as company.
“Where would I go and with whom?” Abby wandered to the sideboard and started lifting lids.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t leave the house without a companion, would you, darling?”
Next came Nathanial: dark hair and eyes, and a slighter build than Gabe, but still big. He was the Deville who could sweet talk any woman, and had the fieriest temperament.
“Surely, she would not take such risks?”
While they discussed the possibility of Abby leaving the house, she continued filling her plate with food calmly, as if she hadn’t just experienced the most wonderful night of her life.
“We’ve had our doubts before,” Zach was saying. “It’s that piano teacher who is the bad influence.”
Stay calm, she reminded herself. Arguing got her nowhere. They loved her, and this was their way of showing that. The only problem was she felt smothered as they watched her every move.
She’d challenged her brothers constantly about the injustice of the restraints they put on her, to no avail, so lately she’d decided to deal with them her own way. What they didn’t know, didn’t hurt them. Dimity had been a great help in this.
“Answer the question please, Abby.”
Michael was the brown-haired-and-eyed brother who most resembled Gabe in stature but was usually the voice of reason in the family. He rarely raised his voice or his fists unless it was absolutely necessary. If Abby had a problem, it was to him she went.
“What was the question, Michael?”
Taking her seat at the table, which was at the end facing Gabe, Abby poured herself some tea.
They were all dressed like the gentlemen they were. Dressed in whatever she’d ordered for them. None of them gave a fig for fashion, so it was Abby who organized fittings and whatever else they needed. To be fair, they wore clothes well, so it was a pleasure to see her efforts come to fruition, even if they were scoundrels.
“You wouldn’t leave your room without one of us to accompany you, would you, Abby?”
“Have I ever done something like that?”
“No,” Gabe said. “But lately we’ve noticed you’ve stopped asking us for things—”
“Like leaving the house without two footmen, a maid, and a tyrant—oh, forgive me, I meant my companion.”
“Mrs. Secomb is not a tyrant. She is an intelligent, sensible woman,” Gabe said. “We wanted your time in London to run smoothly and felt support from an older woman would help you achieve that.”
“She is a bloody tyrant!” Abby felt the grip she’d had on her temper slip. She was, after all, a Deville, and there was some of her brothers in her.
“Don’t use words like that, sister,” Nathan said.
“You all use words like that constantly; why can I not do the same?” She sent a glare to all four of them.
“We are men, it is—”
Abby raised a hand. “It would be better for you if you do not complete that sentence, Nathan.”
“Father tasked us with caring for you, Abigail—”
“And this is your idea of ‘caring,’ is it?” She cut him off. “Keeping me in a cage? I am twenty-three years old, positively ancient for a debutante, and yet I still have a bloody companion, and not just any companion. Mrs. Secomb, also known as Mrs. Sour Puss!”
“Don’t swear,” Gabe said, his brows now
