Page 132 of Hot Earl Summer

Elizabeth and Stephen exchanged innocent smiles.

Faircliffe covered his face with his hand and sighed.

Mr. Randall appeared in the doorway. “There’s a strange caller. A cobbler distraught about the escapade Jarvis Wynchester pulled yesterday night. Something to do with disgruntled ferrets.”

“Er… Do you meanJacobWynchester?” Philippa asked.

“Not me,” Jacob protested, cradling Tickletums the hedgehog. “I was at my poetry club last evening.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “Someone pretended to be one of us?”

“Pretended to be Jacob, at least,” said Marjorie.

“Well, I won’t stand for it.” Jacob bristled. “Or the mistreatment of ferrets.”

Elizabeth arched her brows. “You don’t know that they were mistreated.”

“They were disgruntled, weren’t they? Why would a ferret be disgruntled unless something was horribly amiss?”

“A question we ask ourselves daily,” Stephen murmured.

“Quick.” Tommy turned to Jacob, her eyes twinkling. “The ferrets need their hero.”

He leapt to his feet. “If this takes a while, will one of you feed my animals whilst I’m gone?”

“No,” all his siblings said at once.

“I’ll do it,” Stephen offered. “I logged all of the schedules and safety procedures.”

“Of course you did.” Elizabeth grinned at him. “I’ll watch Tickletums.”

“I can put together an automated feeding machine to handle any future absences,” Stephen said.

“That may become our new routine. Now that Jacob is the only unmarried Wynchester,” Elizabeth added slyly, “he may have to handle more of the cases.”

Jacob sent her a flat look. “There are more cases than ever.”

“Then maybe you should think about adding another Wynchester to the team,” Elizabeth teased.

“I don’t have time or interest in courtship,” he said firmly.

“Says the lonely soul who writes endless sonnets about love,” she murmured. “And has enough free time to train or rehabilitate an entire barn full of animals.”

“I don’t write sonnets,” Jacob protested. “You’ve never even read my work.”

“He doesn’t deny his poems are about love,” Elizabeth stage-whispered to Stephen.

Mr. Randall cleared his throat. “What shall I tell the caller in the entryway?”

Jacob handed the hedgehog to Elizabeth and rushed off to interview the visitor.

Elizabeth and Stephen exchanged mischievous grins and snuggled closer together, with Tickletums in their lap. Whatever was happening certainly sounded like an adventure. And wherever Wynchesters found adventure, love was rarely far behind.

“Want to stay here and see what’s happening?” Stephen murmured into Elizabeth’s ear. “Or would you rather go home and watch me launch my biggest trebuchet ever?”

“That better be a metaphor,” she whispered back. “When I take off this chain mail, I’ll be ripe for the plundering.”

He grinned and kissed her. “May all Beth the Berserker’s wishes come true.”