“I might ask you the same,” he growled. “I’ll remind you, no ladybirds in my office.”
“It’s our office now, ain’t it?” Rafe’s stubborn side emerged. “If I’m doing your share of the work, then I can decide what else to do in this damned room.”
“No fucking ladybirds in my office,” he repeated firmly, not bothering to cast a second glance toward the woman. “You may go, madam.”
She scurried hastily from the office.
“We weren’t fucking,” Rafe countered, glowering at him when she had gone.
“Yet.” Jasper glared right back at him. “We both know you’ve never stopped at kissing a lady, brother.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rafe moved toward him, shoulders going back. “I ain’t the one of us with twins, am I?”
The barb was unwelcome but not entirely unfair. He had made mistakes. While he loved his daughters and was damned thankful to have them in his life, he did regret his follies in not taking more caution when he should have. He would not trade Elizabeth and Anne for all the right decisions in the world. But he knew he had wronged them, wronged their mother. He ought to have been a father to them from the first, or taken more care when he was in his cups.
“I love the girls,” Rafe said hastily, regret shadowing his voice. “I didn’t mean to say otherwise. What I meant was that you’ve hardly been a vicar yourself.”
Jasper nodded. “I made mistakes. I ain’t perfect.”
Far from it. He was no saint, but rather a sinner. Filled with darkness and pain and broken, jagged shards. But love had changed him. Made him feel whole for the first time in as long as he could remember.
“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, voice low. “I respect you, Jasper. I do.”
“Then show it,” he snapped. “Follow the bloody rules.”
“Aye.”
Jasper sighed. “Now tell me the reason for the note.”
His brother’s brow furrowed. “Note?”
“The summons I received,” he repeated, his frustrations mounting. “Trouble, it said. Come to The Sinner’s Palace.”
Rafe shook his head. “I didn’t send a note.”
“Nor did I,” Hugh offered from somewhere behind their unfolding spectacle.
“What of the others?” he demanded, his gut clenching as new fears descended upon him.
“I was in the public rooms but ten minutes past,” Rafe said. “The lads have everything in order. No troubles at all. And if there would’ve been, we would control it, Jasper. You don’t need to keep us all under your bloody thumbs.”
Later, he would fret over his brother’s words. Wonder what it meant, wonder if everyone truly believed he was a tyrant who kept his siblings beneath an iron rule. For now, the truth had hit him in the chest with the force of a speeding carriage.
“I need to get back to Octavia,” he said. “She and the girls are in danger.”
“Then I’m coming too,” Rafe said.
“No.” Jasper’s first instinct was to return to the townhome unencumbered, as fast as he bloody well could. “The sender of the note could intend to cause trouble at The Sinner’s Palace too.”
Rafe looked to Hugh. “Tell the others to be on alert.” He turned back to Jasper. “I’m coming with you, brother. Try to stop me.”
“Who are you?” Octavia managed to ask, pleased with herself for the lack of hesitation in her voice.
The blade was still tight to her neck, another hand on her shoulder in a tight, punishing grip. Desperation was in the air.
“You don’t know?” the female voice at her back slurred, then cackled, the laughter turning into a deep cough.
“No.” Trying to calm her wildly racing heart, she struggled to make sense of what was happening.