Page 30 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

Desmond, who was approximately the color of Thisbe’s sheets, stood just behind their butler. Thisbe shot to her feet before Smeggars got out Desmond’s full name, and she crossed the room to him, face glowing. “Desmond. You came.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I had my orders.”

She took his arm and propelled him across the room to introduce him to her mother and Kyria, then seated him in the chair closest to her mother. She sat down on the other side, neatly buffering him from the other young men, who were eying Desmond as if trying to place him.

Kyria stood up. “I am so tired of sitting. I believe I’ll take a stroll down the hall. Mr. Jennings? Mr. Ashworth? Have I shown you the gallery?” Thisbe silently blessed her sister as the men jumped to offer their arms to Kyria. Kyria threw her a smile over her shoulder as they left the room.

Desmond looked scarcely any more comfortable at their absence. Thisbe spoke across him to the duchess. “Mr. Harrison works in an optical instruments shop.”

Desmond’s eyes widened in panic at this introduction, but Emmeline sat forward, looking far more interested. “Do you? Excellent. Tell me, Mr. Harrison, what sort of hours do you work? Are the conditions there adequate?”

Desmond blinked. “Why, yes, they’re, ah... It’s a nice place. The owner is a good man.”

“What a refreshing thing to hear.” The duchess continued to interrogate him about the shop, his work and his opinion on child labor laws. Desmond gradually relaxed, and by the time Kyria and her swains strolled back into the room, the two of them were deep in a discussion of sanitation, or rather the lack of it, in the slums of London.

Kyria glanced at them, then cast a conspiratorial grin at Thisbe. As bits and pieces of their talk drifted over, Kyria’s gentlemen callers looked appalled. Thisbe had to admit that dead animals lying in the streets was not a particularly pleasant conversational topic.

“Mama!” The twins trotted into the room—it was rare to see them move any slower. They ran to the duchess, who bent to kiss them and pulled them up into the chair with her.

“What have you been doing?” she asked, and there followed a long and complicated rendition of their activities. The suitors—Thisbe had come to think of them as a single entity—seemed even more dismayed than they had been at the duchess’s earlier conversation.

Con, eying Desmond curiously, slipped down from the chair and went to him. “You’re tall.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Not as tall as Theo,” Con told him loyally.

“No, probably not,” Desmond agreed amicably, smiling at the boy.

Alex broke off his tale and went to stand by his brother. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Desmond Harrison.”

“Desmond is a friend of mine,” Thisbe added.

“Oh.” Alex continued to study Desmond in his thoughtful, unswerving way, a practice some people found uncomfortable.

“He’s tall,” Con informed his brother. “But not as tall as Theo.”

“Not as tall as Reed,” Alex added.

Desmond grinned. “I seem to be growing shorter by the moment.”

“I’m Con.”

“I’m Alex.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you. Con. Alex.” Desmond shook each boy’s hand as he greeted them, which obviously delighted the twins, and they shook his hand with gusto.

“Boys...” the duchess said, frowning a bit. “Where is your nanny?”

“Yes.” Thisbe looked toward the hall. “Usually when you slip your leash, Nanny follows you.”

“She left,” Con said casually.

“Left? What do you mean, left?”

“Granna yelled at her,” Alex said by way of explanation. “And bam! Bam!” He imitated banging a cane on the floor.