A Gentleman's Honor (Bastion Club 2) - Page 118

“Good idea,” Harry opined. “Then she won’t be here to fuss over us.”

Matthew looked less certain; Maggs lumbered forward and held out a hand. “Here then, I’ll help. We can get you all packed, and meanwhile your sister can go and make Mrs. Althorpe’s acquaintance, and make sure she’s ready to meet you three, heh?”

Nodding, Matthew took Maggs’s hand, but he kept his gaze on Tony’s face. “So we’ll come to your house later?”

Tony hunkered down, lightly squeezed Matthew’s other hand. “I’ll send my coach around for you as soon as I get home. It’s large enough to take all of you at once, and the luggage can follow. That way, you’ll be in Upper Brook Street, in my house, all the sooner.”

“Hooray!” David and Harry turned and raced up the stairs. Grinning, reassured, Matthew dashed after them. Maggs brought up the rear.

Tony watched until they disappeared along the corridor, then he went up the stairs and along to Alicia’s room.

She was bending over a box at the foot of her bed; straightening with a sigh, she shut the lid.

Smiling, he strolled in. “Finished?”

Alicia looked at him, returned his smile, then glanced distractedly around the room. “Yes—I think that’s it for in here.”

“Good.” Halting before her, he reached for her.

Before she realized what he intended, he’d caught her, bent his head, and was kissing her… thoroughly. Her head spun pleasurably… then she remembered and struggled.

He ended the kiss; raising his head, he looked down at her. “What?”

She wriggled from his hands, firm about her waist. “The boys!” She peeked around him at the door, but there was no sign of them.

Tony met her warning look with a quizzical one, then he glanced around. “I came to take you to meet Miranda.” His gaze returned to her. “She’s waiting, so she assured me, on pins.”

“Already? Oh.” She scanned the room, but she had indeed packed everything. “But the boys aren’t yet ready and—”

“The boys assured me they had their packing under control. Maggs has elected to watch over them, and you know Jenkins will as well, and Fitchett and Adriana.” He fixed her with a direct look. “So there’s no reason you can’t come with me now. I’ll send my carriage once we reach Upper Brook Street, so they’ll all be only an hour or so behind.”

She frowned. “But—”

“And don’t forget the engagements we have tonight. You’ll need to settle in, and then we have a meeting at two o’clock in the library—Jack sent word he’s got what we wanted—I’m assuming you still wish to attend?” Innocently, he looked inquiringly at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Of course.”

He inclined his head. “And then we’ve dinner at Lady Martindale’s followed by two balls, so we’ll be out again within a few hours. I think you should look over the rooms before the others arrive, just in case there’s any difficulty, anything you’d like changed.”

Lips setting, she looked into his black eyes; she’d seen that expression of immovable purpose before—knew he wouldn’t change tack, not easily… and perhaps he was right.

She grimaced. “Your cousin—she only has two daughters?”

Tony nodded; taking her elbow, he turned her to the door. “If you’re worried she’ll have the vapors over the boys’ antics, you can rest easy—Miranda was a tomboy to the depths of her soul. We spent much of our childhood together—we were both only children. If anything, she’ll be in her element with your brothers—and, incidentally, so will her daughters. If I’m any judge, they’ll give your three a run for their money.”

That distracted her, enough for him to steer her to the stairs. But—

“I must speak with Fitchett, and Cook, too, before I can leave.”

At least she was going down the stairs. He went with her, resigned yet on guard. Stoically, he stuck to her side, determinedly herding her back to the front hall. Finally there, he picked up the pelisse she’d left lying on a chair and helped her into it.

Taking her hand, he drew her out of the front door, pulled it shut, then led her down the steps to where his curricle stood waiting. One of his grooms was holding his matched bays. He helped her in, waited while she’d settled her skirts, then clim

bed up beside her. Nodding to the groom, he set the horses pacing. Glancing at her, he saw her watching his hands on the reins, watching the horses, still skittish, coquettish.

He realized she was nervous; he kept the horses to a slow trot. “Don’t worry—they won’t bolt.”

She glanced at him. “Oh—I just…have rarely had occasion to be behind such beasts. They’re very powerful, aren’t they?”

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Bastion Club Historical
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