Page 21 of The Best Marquess

Chapter 5

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the soiree?”

At Xavier’s words, Pippa’s head jerked up from where she had been engrossed in a scene from A Wicked Comte: the evil king handing over his plump, plain sister as a sacrificial gift to the handsome raiding conqueror, and the sister protesting in a manner that could only be described as token.

“Er…some might say,” she replied, silently blessing Finn once again for the false cover as she wriggled on the well-cushioned window seat to free the trapped hem of her quilted dressing gown. Truthfully, with a tea tray on the table, good romance novel, and an existence free of stays, life felt rather excellent.

Her twin studied the cover, his lips twitching. “Modern Principles of Chemistry, eh? Never knew that could be so enthralling. You know, I’ve been wanting to learn more about the subject. Perhaps I could borrow your book.”

“Perhaps you could go bathe in the Thames. After you explain why you are in my room.”

“Ruby let me in. I did knock, several times. That poor woman has the patience of a saint, looking after you.”

Pippa set her book down and glared at him. “That is long-established fact, Xav. But it does not explain why you are here.”

“For moral support. Also, lavish praise for not committing dowagercide. Or whatever the Latin might be for hurling one’s grandmother into prickly shrubbery,” said Xavier, sprawling onto the window seat beside her in his rare, at-home attire of linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gold waistcoat, and buckskins. He was so lazily elegant, damn him. If she attempted such a movement, she would end up in a heap on the floor. Although no doubt every act in the world was easier in buckskins.

“I shall have to look that up,” she replied, her tone softening. “What did Grandmother do this time?”

“Selected my ensemble for this evening which is irritating enough, but she also went through my armoire and drawers when I was out and tossed away some treasured items that are unbecoming of a viscount soon to reach his majority. I tell you what, the old duck is much worse than she used to be. The games she plays…ugh. Truly Machiavellian. We all need to get out of this damned house before we go quite mad.”

“You are preaching to the choir, favorite twin.”

“Ah, that’s what I like to hear. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Pippa rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret it. You leave me and Gigi alone with Grandmother far too often for our liking.”

He hesitated, looking surprisingly apologetic. “I do serve a higher purpose, you know. Speaking of getting out of this house…serious question, Pip. Is it wrong that I want to find out who Gigi’s mystery man is? I mean, I know you would tell me if I was being an overbearing arse and to mind my own bloody business…but damn it, each time she talks about him in that strange, vague way, my big brother hackles rise.”

Good lord. If Xavier knew what Georgiana had confessed in the carriage, he would spit nails. “In nearly all circumstances, I would say interference in Gigi’s romantic life was being an overbearing arse and to mind your own bloody business. But…”

His gaze narrowed. “That but holds the weight of a mountain range, so I’ll make some discreet enquiries. Don’t worry, I won’t commit any crimes. I’ll even tell you first if I learn anything.”

“Discreet enquiries? At your club, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

Pippa hugged her book to her chest against a frisson of disquiet. Just occasionally, Xavier displayed a flash of ice-cold purpose that was so different from his roguish and careless charm, it made her wonder exactly what he did when he wasn’t home. She had always assumed his many absences were to drink or wager or bed some beautiful woman. Perhaps that was what he wanted her to believe…

Argh. No. She couldn’t take on any further Nash family secrets.

“I shall be very interested to hear any information you might discover,” said Pippa. “Father has an inkling who the gentleman is, but instead of saying no to Gigi, he merely delays and says I must wed first.”

“That is Grandmother-level diabolical. That you haven’t committed dowagercide, or patricide for that matter, speaks to your mettle, Pip. But now we have this wretched soiree. Do you want me to put something in Devonshire’s brandy? Just belly gripes, I swear.”

Damnation. There Xavier went again, being all tolerable.

“Thank you, but no. I have the situation in hand.”

Xavier nodded as he leaned over to steal a handful of candied fruit from her tea tray. “When you say that, I believe it. By the by…for a book, a false cover alone is risky. As is using the postal service. Far better to have a trusted messenger who for a small fee, will put items directly into your hand then forget anything was delivered. Just a thought, if you are going to be a regular importer of explicit romance novels into the house.”

Pippa hit him with a velvet cushion. Twice. Her twin burst out laughing, so she continued hitting him until he held up his hands in surrender and got to his feet.

Perfect timing, as Ruby suddenly stomped her heel twice on the floor from the other side of the room where she was folding fresh laundry. Gah. Grandmother was on her way.

Xavier left for his own bedchamber at the other end of the hallway and Pippa planted herself in front of the dressing table mirror, as though examining a spot on her chin.

“Pippa. There you are,” said the dowager as she marched into the room without knocking, just as she always did. “Have you selected a gown for the soiree? The only truly appropriate choice is that white velvet with lace overlay I ordered for you. It will be perfect for such a special occasion.”