Page 13 of To Ensnare a Duke

"I'm sure you'll do fine. I've never known you to shy away from any challenge." Her shoulders straighten up as pride seems to infuse her body.

"You are correct in your statement. I'll just view this as any other chore to accomplish." But then her shoulders slump. "Do you know what manner of women these are? Greyson would tell me nothing."

This time, I do allow the soft chuckle to slip past my lips. "Ever the recluse. Are you sure you're not a wallflower?"

The pout she gives me stirs something else, something dark and primal. For a brief moment, I want nothing more than to gather her into my arms and give her backside a reason to make her pout. It's not petulant enough to warrant an actual punishment, but certainly enough for me to take notice.

Stepping away, I give myself room to breathe for a second. It won't do any good to see her as anything other than a little sister: adorable at best, and a nuisance at worst.

"I am not an expert on all those in attendance today. For example, I have yet to meet Miss Alessandra Cappelli. Seems as if Redleigh has been keeping her stowed away until time for her coming out. I do know she's Italian and his ward."

"Oh. I've never met anyone from Italy. Perhaps today won't be as dull as I feared."

"Dull? That's what you're worried about?" Unable to keep the laughter at bay, I wipe my eyes and shake my head. "With Whiteport and Norhaven bringing the triplets, you will not need to fear that. Your sanity, perhaps. But never boredom."

Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she leans over. "Are they quite scandalous then?"

I try my best to read her expression, but I cannot seem to decipher it. "They are all quite respectable… Just prone to bits of fun. Best to learn who's who quickly, as they can sometimes use their uncanny looks to play a farce."

Miss Hunt fairly vibrates as she casts one more look about the spread. "Then all is ready. I look forward to meeting them. Thank you so much for your insight."

Nodding, I click my heels together and wait over near the entrance. For some reason, I find that I cannot stand too close. Her scent is overwhelming, nearly drowning me in the warm spices. I long to loosen my cravat and stand there askew as the chilled winds from outside cool me down.

It must be my anxious thoughts finding some other outlet. Growling under my breath, I jam a finger under the fabric and tug. It's not enough to loosen it, but the action brings me a modicum of relief. I stare at the door, willing the guests to make haste.

Though they are not in danger of being late, I wish to quit this room as soon as I can. As if I conjure them, a flurry of movement distracts me, drawing my thoughts away from the Hardon family, namely the sister, and onto the greetings as they fly about.

In true form, the triplets barrel their way in, giving little heed to those around them. They speak in animated tones and gestures as they drag Miss Cynthia Campbell behind. Granted, she doesn't seem worse for the wear. In fact, her eyes nearly glow as she laughs right along with them.

Whiteport, Norhaven, and Redleigh take up the rear, all three looking tired and haggard. A young lady follows beside, her eyes missing nothing as she takes in everyone and everything. Based on the introductions, it is indeed Miss Alessandra Cappelli.

She says nothing but curtsies with a pretty enough smile. Redleigh hovers over, his watchful eyes staring down at Lord Hardon and me. As if I want such an innocent thing. Her eyes are too wide. The tremble of her lips denotes someone of a worried constitution.

I cannot speak for Lord Hardon, seeing as he's remained rather close-lipped about his preferences and vices, but he does not show any sign of arousal or longing. With a sweep of his hand, he offers to allow her to join the others as they pick out their sandwiches. She smiles again and bobs in a gentle curtsy before shoring up the ranks of the womenfolk.

Once their plates are laden, they head over into a nearby drawing room where their aunt remains vigilant over the young ladies. She too has a plate, though not nearly as stuffed as theirs. Grinning over at Norhaven and Whiteport, I jerk my head over to where they went.

"I do not envy you two. I have my hands full enough with two sisters, both of whom are nowhere near ready for the marriage mart. How do you manage with three?"

Whiteport rolls his eyes as he snatches an obliging sandwich. "Have I ever given the impression that I'm 'managing' anything? The only thing I can say with any certainty is next year's Season will most likely be the death of me. Please announce my demise with the gravitas afforded one of my position and affliction."

"They seem well adjusted enough," Lord Hardon interjects, taking a sip of his port. "I hope for them to be a kind influence on Augusta. She hasn't any friends in London."

"If Miss Cynthia Campbell is at the helm," Norhaven chimes in, "she'll have friends plenty enough after today. Where she directs, my sisters follow."

There's an odd note to his voice, but if anyone else notices it, they don't say anything. He glances at the door, his expression almost wistful… I must be imagining things. Norhaven is never the type to be melancholy. And yet, his sense of yearning lately seems to rival even my own.

Brushing that all aside, I look over at Lord Hardon. "You wished to see us? Pray tell it's for something more than a sandwich and a swig of ale. I could have had this and more… delectable bites… elsewhere."

The others join in with ribald laughing. All except Redleigh. As usual, he nurses a drink, brooding off to the side. It's ridiculous, really. With all the years we've been friends, he should know we accept him for who and what he is. It seems to change nothing, however, as he continues to force himself to be on the outside.

With a heavy sigh, Lord Hardon motions toward the door. "Such discussions are far better suited for my study."

Interest piqued once more, I trail after him, joined by the others. A somber air passes over us as we take the chairs surrounding a modest desk. As we wait for Lord Hardon to speak, I study each duke in turn, doing my best to gauge their thoughts and reactions.

"I have asked you all here because I have a matter in which I need help. I've already spoken to Portswell about keeping an eye on my sister as I leave, but something far more sinister has reared its ugly head." He rummages around his desk for a few moments before tossing a letter down on the surface.

As I bend over to get a better look, my gut cramps as I take in the handwriting. The scrawl, though strange, is still familiar. Before anyone else can get a closer glance, I sweep it up and skim the missive. My lips curl up into a snarl as I slam it back down and reach into my side pocket.