This argument had gone on long enough.
“I understand your concerns,” he said as he rose to his feet. “I know you love your children and wish the best for them. I presume the girls are in Camellia’s sitting room?”
“Where else?” his mother replied with a disgruntled sigh.
He hesitated. “While I’m here… Is Father in?”
“Oh, darling…” His mother’s eyes filled with something painfully close to pity. “I’m afraid the baron is too busy with important matters to grant any of us an audience today.”
Heath shrugged his tight shoulders. He’d asked about Father because he always asked about Father, not because he’d expected the answer to be any different. Heath’s feelings weren’t wounded. The baron’s absence didn’t even hurt anymore.
There was certainly no reason for the pleading apology in his mother’s eyes. It wasn’t as if Father had time for her, either.
Perhaps that was why she obsessed about raising perfect children.
“Stay here and relax,” he told her gently. “I’ll go speak with the girls.”
Mother lifted one of the hands from her hips. “Focus your efforts on Dahlia. I beg you to talk sense into her.”
Rather than make any promises, Heath bowed and strode from the room.
A single flight of stairs separated the family parlor from Camellia’s sitting room. Heath took the steps in twos, his heart lightening with each leap up the stairs.
The door to the sitting room was open, spilling daylight and warmth from a crackling fire into the corridor. Bryony and Camellia’s voices could be heard bickering. Dahlia’s voice was missing. Either she was being uncharacteristically silent… or she had heard him coming.
Heath grinned to himself as his muscles tensed in anticipation.
Years earlier, when he had taught Dahlia self-defense, they had quickly developed the habit of ambushing one another to keep their skills sharp.
Although they were no longer adolescents, they had kept up the game. Heath was proud of his fearless sister, and glad he could help keep her safe even when he was not present to watch over her.
No doubt she would wish to prove herself as nimble and capable as ever.
Rather than edge closer and expose himself to a potential attack, he lowered his head and rushed into the room at full speed.
Dahlia was ready. Instead of lying in wait, she somersaulted in front of him the moment he crossed the threshold, catching him at the knees and quickly rolling out of the way as he tumbled forward off-balance.
Rather than land on his face, Heath turned his rapid fall into a somersault and sprang fluidly to his feet before she could attack again.
Dahlia was already standing upright with her fists in the air.
“A tie!” Bryony exclaimed in delight. “How long has it been since you’ve had a tie?”
“It’s not a tie,” Dahlia protested. “Heath wasn’t ready. He went down!”
“Down into a somersault, which he quickly leapt out of. He didn’tstaydown.” Bryony pointed out, to her sister’s exasperation.
Camellia’s eyes twinkled. “If we’re being picky, you were the first to go down. You were flying boots over bonnet before Heath even entered the room.”
“My somersault wastactical,” Dahlia said with high offense. “His was reactionary!”
“Do I have a voice in this discussion?” Heath asked drolly.
“No,” all three sisters chorused at once.
Laughing, he threw himself onto one of the chaise longues. “Mother would like to know why you three unmarriageable wretches are still spinsters.”
“Mother would never say such a thing,” Bryony replied primly. “She knows precisely why we’re all unmarriageable spinsters.”
