Why was not being seen so important when Reed had come specifically to see someone? He stepped into the book room and found it wasn’t empty. His brothers-in-law, both of them, sat near the fireplace, watching his entrance.
“Robert,” he said. “Charles.”
“Good afternoon, idiot,” Charles greeted him with a smile. He was married to Lucy’s older sister and was the closer of the two gentleman to Reed’s age.
Mr. Harris had taken his place in a leather armchair near his son-in-law. All three watched Reed with looks of almost comical concern.
“What is this?” Reed asked. “A council of war?”
“We are staging a daring rescue.” Mr. Harris’s tone was utterly serious, though his eyes twinkled with a bit of mischievousness.
“And whom are you rescuing?” Though he asked the question, he suspected he knew the answer.
“Have a seat, son.” Mr. Harris motioned to the empty spot on the sofa. “We are here to save you.”
Reed looked at them each in turn. “Save me?”
“Apparently, brother,” Charles said, “you told your wife that husbands aren’t required to squire their wives around, and that attending social functions is a distasteful chore.”
“But itisa distasteful chore.”
“Oh, we all know that,” Robert, Lucy’s brother, replied. “But we have the sense to not say as much to our wives.”
“I—” Reed had a sudden realization. “How do the three of you know about that conversation?”
“Lucy arrived this morning with a bee in her bonnet,” Mr. Harris said. “She and her mother closed themselves up in the sitting room for a full hour. Then the flood of Harris ladies began.”
Robert took up the tale. “Mother sent notes to Clarissa and Amelia, insisting they were needed ‘immediately’ to sort out a problem of ‘unparalleled urgency.’ Your fateful error was revealed, and here we all are.”
“So Lucywashere.” He hadn’t managed a straight answer from Mrs. Harris.
“Ishere, my friend.” Charles looked ready to burst out laughing. “Lucyishere.”
“Perfect.” Reed stood up. “Nice to see you all again.”
“Sit, you muttonhead.” Charles went so far as to roll his eyes. “You are in far too deep to get out that easily.”
He slowly lowered into his seat. “I think you had better tell me the whole story.”
“First,” Charles said, “you never tell your wife that time spent with her is a ‘chore.’ She’ll think that means you don’t care for her company.”
“But that’s not what I said.”
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Charles insisted. “All that matters is what she hears, and the two are often very different from each other.”
“Furthermore,” Mr. Harris said. “There is nothing a husband is permitted to believe he is no longer required to do once he is married. Though the list of things we’dprefernot to do is long and detailed, we keep that list to ourselves.”
“Are you trying to say that I’m in trouble with Lucy?”
“You have moved far beyondtrouble,” Charles said.
All three men were clearly laughing at him. Either Lucy wasn’t as upset with him as they were letting on, or they were enjoying the thought of his apparent impending doom. “And I am in my wife’s black books because I told her that gentlemen don’t actually enjoy balls?”
“Yes,” Mr. Harris said. “And that spending time with her was unpleasant.”
“I never said that.”
“Again,” Charles jumped in. “What yousaidis of little importance.”
