“I assume that’s your rule?”
“It should be everyone’s rule.”
“The others all fight with swords, too?”
“All right, no. You make a solid point. Until Kuni, I was the only blade-wielding Wynchester. She prefers knives.”
“As one does,” he murmured. “Much more ladylike.”
“She would kill you if she heard you say so. She’s a warrioress from a long line of Balcovian soldiers. If you want ladylike, that would be Philippa. At any given moment, she’s swathed in enough lace to make a tablecloth the size of a cricket pitch.”
“That sounds… frightening.”
Elizabeth nodded. “There’s more than one way to construct a shield.”
He seemed to consider this. “Who else in your family uses a shield?”
She answered without hesitation. “Tommy.”
“Tommy is…?”
“Everything. Everyone. A boatman, an old woman, a barrister, a lady’s maid. Whatever she needs to be to achieve the mission. We despaired of Philippa ever falling in love with the real her, if Tommy insisted on always pretending to be someone else.”
“Philippa fell in love with… her,” he repeated, blinking twice.
“It was inevitable,” Elizabeth said with a romantic sigh. “As soon as Tommy peeled off those side-whiskers, Philippa didn’t stand a chance. It was love at three hundred and seventy-fifth sight.”
“And now Philippa is a Wynchester?”
“Yes. Well, not legally, marriage laws being as shortsighted as they are. But who cares about legalities? I personally inducted her into the family in our official Wynchester knighting ceremony.”
He looked wistful. “There’s an official ceremony to become part of your family?”
“I’m still working on it,” she hedged. “Philippa was the first to get a ceremony. I’ve added a little more flair with each new Wynchester, but I still think the proceedings lack a certainje ne sais quoi. Which Jacob thinks means ‘wild badgers.’”
“Your brother thinks ‘Je ne sais quoi’means… ‘wild badgers’?”
“Oh, he speaks French better than I do. Jacob just thinksanysituation could be improved with badgers. Especially if they have been trained to execute maximum destruction.”
“Utterly reasonable,” Stephen murmured. “I should have thought of it myself.”
“I can ask him to send you some,” Elizabeth offered. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to put together a gift basket.”
“Perhaps when I return home,” Stephen said quickly. “It’s bad form to set feral badgers free in someone else’s home.”
“Is it? We do it all the time.” She raised her sandwich, then paused. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. A messenger crow arrived an hour ago with good news. My brother tracked down your cousin!”
“Hedid?” Stephen’s tone was filled with wonder, disbelief, and… something else Elizabeth couldn’t quite identify. “Where was the scoundrel? Is he on his way back?”
“Not exactly. Densmore took a boat to France.”
“Of course he did,” Stephen muttered. “I’m here getting the hat shot off my head, and he’s off drinking champagne in Paris with Beau Brummell. Probably gambling themselves into entirely new scrapes we cannot even fathom.”
“We aren’t privy to the earl’s precise plans, but his boat departed a fortnight ago, days before I met Miss Oak. Densmorecouldbe gallivanting around Paris with pinks of the ton. With luck, however, he’s still in a port town and can return quickly. Most of Graham’s spies are in London, and all of them are in England, so as you can imagine, it’s been a bit of a challenge.”
“Oh, I don’t have to imagine,” Stephen said dryly. “Densmore has always been a challenge.”
“The best of us are.” Elizabeth finished the last bite of her sandwich. “Thank you for nuncheon.”
