“Yes, ma’am,” the girls replied.
“Wait,” Caillen added before she bent down to give them each a kiss and a hug and the girls ran to the steps giggling.
Caillen turned and asked Ailsa. “Who is Violet’s brother and where is he now?”
“Viscount Pembrock is waiting outside in his carriage. Charlie says he is rather mean-spirited.”
“I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that he is searching the city for his wayward sister,” Astley said with mock sincerity.
Three Blair sisters turned and glared at him.
He cleared his throat. “I will speak to Lord Pembrock and advise him that we will bring Lady Violet home when we locate her.”
“No,” Robbi interrupted. “He can’t know that Violet isn’t here, or he will skin Edeen alive. He doesn’t care for her influence on Violet.”
“Exactly what do you propose I tell him?”
“I’ll go.” Volunteered Ailsa. “I need to be there for Iseabail if Edeen can’t. If that’s alright? I know having four children is new for you?—”
“I have five sisters. Four children in the house doesn’t compare. Besides, I’m not giving birth. Go assist Iseabail. She needs you.”
Simon approached the women. “I will escort Ailsa out and advise Pembrock to take her back to Harding House. All heneed know is that Edeen and Lady Violet have called it an early night. I will offer my assurance to escort Lady Violet home in the morning.”
His eyes met Caillen’s and the moment was like the universe aligning for the first time in his life. The trouble her sisters were digging up, was multiplying exponentially. A sane man would walk away before entangling himself with the gale force of the Blair sisters, but he wanted to do the opposite. He belonged with this woman and her family, and he would be damned if he would allow anyone to cause them harm.
Fifteen
Whispers of the Ton
Dearest Reader,
It is with great glee that I report to thee, the lady depicted with the Earl of A in our last publication has been identified as the widowed Baroness of B! My, but the mice will play when the husband has passed away! Has there ever been a more romantic couple to be caught embracing on the front steps of a Mayfair townhouse? And will the wicked Baroness take our swoon-worthy earl off the marriage mart? Say it isn’t so. The debutantes will be screaming maux!
This author, however, will cheer—well done, my dear. Well done.
—A special edition of The Whispers of the Ton printed after the Earl of Astley was observed kissing the Baroness of Bredlebane on the front steps of his London townhouse. An etching of the couple embracing while two little towheaded girls and a dark-haired boy giggled in a window above was included in the edition.
“She’ll be foine. She’s a crack shot at ten yards.” Robbi’s accent was running its normal course of her own mix of Scottish, Mayfair, and Cockney as she attempted to grab one of the pistols Payne had laid out on the seat next to him.
The agent smacked her hand away without looking up.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“These guns aren’t for the likes of you, miss.” The sarcasm in his voice would have been funny if Simon weren’t worried about Caillen and the children being home with only Charlie and Mandal to protect them.
“Give me the address, and I’ll give you a gun to go back and help your sister.” Simon offered.
Robbi’s gaze turned to him as she rubbed the back of her hand.
“I won’t be responsible if the kid blows her head off,” Payne interjected.
Robbi stuck her tongue out at him. “As if I would.” She turned back to Simon. “I’m going to have to decline your generous offer, Astley. If I know Edeen like I think I do, then she probably needs more help than Caillen.”
Payne’s gaze slowly transferred from the collection of guns he had brought, to Robbi.
At least Simon wasn’t the only one experiencing a sense of an impending disaster. “What is it you didn’t tell us?”
“Crookes and Edeen may be in the same place.”
