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“From the Frenchwoman?”
“Yes.” Edgar clipped the word. He didn’t want to talk about it.
About the scandal that had dogged his days ever since he’d met Sophie. The reason he walked with this damned limp.
“Heard they’re troublesome. Chasing away governesses, what?” asked West.
“Word travels quickly.”
“Governesses.” West shuddered. “Dreary, humorless race. Was petrified of mine as a boy.”
“I’ve a new one. She’s quite promising.”
“Stern and commanding, is she? More hair on her upper lip than you’ve got?”
“Not at all. Wavy auburn hair. Slender waist. Clever gaze. Saucy mouth.”
“I’ll have to meet this governess of yours,” said West with a wolfish grin.
“Absolutely not.”
“Protective of her, are we?”
“You’re not to pursue my governess, West.”
If anyone would pursue her, it would be Edgar.
No, no. That was all wrong.
“If you say so.” West swallowed the rest of his ale. “Now, about my sisters—”
“I’m not going to marry one of your sisters.”
“Told you, don’t want you to marry ’em.” He waved his hand at a barmaid.
“Haven’t you had enough?” asked Edgar.
“Not even close.” West reached for more ale and downed half of it in a few hearty swallows. “Now, see here. This is what you’ll do.”
He drew on the sticky table with a wobbly finger. “Take Blanche riding in an open carriage. Act besotted. Parade her down the Ladies Mile. Stop here at an agreed-upon time.” He jabbed his finger against the table. “Greenlea’s Flower Shop. Leap out of the carriage, impulsive action, et cetera, and purchase her a big bunch of flowers.”
Edgar snorted. “Sounds like courtship to me.”
“’Snot,” slurred West. “She’s trying to bring Laxton up to scratch. You’ll drive him mad with jealousy.”
“How do I know he’ll be watching?”
“Because I’ll bring him near Greenlea’s at the hour we agree on. It can’t fail.”
In Edgar’s experience, plans made by inebriated lords usually failed.
“D’you want your railway through Westbury Abbey or not?” asked West.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“I havefivesisters. Laxton will offer for Blanche then and there if he thinks he’s competing with a duke.” He wiped his palms together. “Problem solved. Sister number one off the shelf. Apparently she must marry before the other ones can tie the knot. Bloody rules of matrimony. Don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”
“This’d better not be a trap.”
