Page 86 of The Trouble with Tweed

“We will still marry, blessing or no. St Paul’s or the anvil at Gretna Green—it matters little to me⁠—”

Claire made an indignant tsking noise and swatted at his elbow. Michael just laughed. Just then, the Duke of Devonshire passed their open doorway.

Claire pushed Michael—who was still laughing—out into the hallway. “Here’s your chance! Hurry before William leaves for the docks or one of his warehouses.”

Several minutes later, Claire’s nervous pacing was interrupted by the appearance of Lily, who blinked in surprise when she saw that Claire already occupied the room.

“What are you doing here?” Claire asked.

Lily jerked to a stop just inside the doorway, her eyes wide. Claire could have sworn her sister looked almost guilty.

“I can go somewhere else,” Lily said.

Claire’s eyes narrowed as Lily’s gaze slid down the hallway in the direction of William’s study.

“Did you need to speak to William?” Claire asked.

Lily pressed her lips together, her eyes wide, and shook her head too rapidly to ease Claire’s curiosity.

“What—” she began, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Margaret, who jerked to a stop and began to blush furiously.

“I’ll just go,” Margaret said, turning for the door.

“You’ll do no such thing. Why are both of you here, and why do you look so guilty?” Claire’s eyes narrowed.

“I hardly think that I need to explain myself to you,” Margaret said. “Why are you here? Do you have some business with William that you don’t want to tell us about?”

“I don’t care to share that with you at the moment,” Claire said pertly.

“Then why should we share our business with you?” Margaret asked, arching her eyebrow.

“A fair point,” Lily said, though she could barely hide the trembling of her fingers.

Claire rounded on her. She had always been the weakest of the lot, and if either of them were going to break, it would be Lily.

But just as she worked at formulating a question to aim at her sister, Beatrice burst in the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Where’s William?” she gasped. “I must speak to him immediately.”

“Whatever is the matter?” Lily cried.

“Onion juice, and it’s going to wear off at any moment. Where’s our brother?”

Wordlessly, Claire pointed at the closed door to William’s study. Beatrice made a run for it. Her sisters watched her wrench the doorknob and fling herself in, slamming the door behind her.

Margaret grimaced. “Perhaps we should have mentioned he was already occupied?”

CHAPTER 28- MICHAEL

Despite the calm facade he’d presented to Claire, Michael’s stomach had twisted itself in knots by the time he rapped his knuckles against the polished door of Cavendish’s study. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he had wealth, a title, an excellent family—all things a brother would want, in terms of pedigree.

“Come in.”

The study was as luxurious as the rest of the house, with wood-panelled walls and marble flooring. Still, there was a starkness to the furnishing that harkened back to William’s days in the navy.

William sat behind a massive mahogany desk, frowning. It appeared that his meeting with Devonshire hadn’t gone well, and for a moment, Michael thought of begging off until the morrow.

Then he remembered that Claire was waiting for him, and there was a ring in his breast pocket. “Cavendish, I’ve come on a rather personal errand.”