Merry gave a smug nod. “Of course. It even looks as though the seal is still intact.”
“How did you manage that?” Serendipity asked, then ducked her head and turned away. “Never mind. I do not wish to know.”
“Who else might he have invited?” Joy asked. “You know Chance. He misses the brotherhood of the club whenever we are in the country.”
“And heaven forbid he should pause in his matchmaking until we return to London.” Grace rubbed at the hairs rising on the back of her neck, a sure sign that tonight could be disastrous.
Serendipity rose and went to the door. “I shall find out and report back.” She arched a brow at Felicity and Merry. “Sandwiches? Tea? Brandy? We shall need fortification to survive whatever our silly brother has in mind—especially since the Duke of Wolfebourne could be a problem for our Gracie.”
“They are on the way,” Felicity replied curtly. “We heard Chance headed for the library and had to make our escape. Mrs. Flackney knows to send them up.”
Grace busied herself with re-wrapping the gifts for Aurora and Quill. If she didn’t do something, she would surely shatter into a thousand nervous little bits, and she simply refused to do that. “Gastric!” She needed her sweet dog. He would calm her.
A thud from the depths of the adjoining bedroom told her he had been lounging on one of the beds again, taking advantage of the household being busy with other things. She didn’t mind if he slept on hers, and he always cuddled with her at night, but her sisters didn’t share that same opinion and complained about dog hair on their bedclothes.
With a softwoof, he ambled into the parlor, his swaying, short-legged gait making Grace smile. He went straight to her and leaned against her leg, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. No one would ever love her as unconditionally as Gastric.
“There is my good lad.” She rubbed his head and scratched behind his ears, immediately feeling calmer.
“You like him.” Joy meandered closer, a dangerous look in her eyes.
“I do not like him.” Grace settled on the rug and pulled the dog into her lap. “I love him. Gastric makes everything bearable.”
“Not Gastric,” Joy said, “the duke. You like the duke.”
Grace snorted. “I believe that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say.”
“You do like him,” Merry said. “Your cheeks have gone all pink, and you never blush.”
“My color rises when I think of the man because I find him infuriating.” Grace tried to think of anything but the darkly handsome duke and the exciting way his unkempt hair had whipped across his angry eyes when he and she had argued in the meadow.
“What would be wrong with your liking him?” Felicity asked as she settled into a nearby chair. “We promise not to tell Chance or Seri.”
“Seri did say he belonged to another,” Merry said.
“Another that he does not want,” Joy added.
Grace hugged Gastric closer, burying her face in the softness of his floppy brown ears. She was not accustomed to being the center of attention, and she did not like it one tiny bit. Her dogs, horses, and the great outdoors mattered most in her world—not some infernal man who needed to learn how to better treat his siblings and find the gumption to break off an engagement if he found it unpalatable.
“My only unresolved issue with the Duke of Wolfebourne is that he has seen me in my adventuring clothes, as have his brother and sister. I know I can trust them to keep my secret, but I am none too sure about him. Hopefully, I convinced himnot to tattle to Chance by informing him that to do so would be cowardly.” She found herself smiling without exactly knowing why. “That made his face go all ruddy that day.”
“The same as it did in the shop?” Joy asked before giving a knowing nod to the other sisters. “That man is already darkly handsome. When his color rises, it enhances his looks quite nicely.”
“Perhaps we should steer him in your direction?” Grace snapped, surprised by a sudden sense of possessiveness over her duke.
Herduke?Ridiculous! She had merely met him first. That was all. This was most certainly not a case of whoever saw him first got him. She scratched Gastric under the chin, smiling as the dog’s eyes closed in sheer bliss and his back leg started thumping. “What say you, Gastric? Should Joy be the next on the chopping block? That would buy me more time.”
“Absolutely not,” Joy said. “You should have seen him,” she told Merry and Felicity. “His eyes never left her the entire time we were in the shop.”
Serendipity breezed back into the room, then held the parlor door open for the pair of footmen bearing trays of tea, brandy, sandwiches, and biscuits. “Thank you, George and Peter. I know Mrs. Flackney instructed you to pour, but I enjoy doing that myself. That will be all.”
The young men nodded and hurried out.
Serendipity closed the door and leaned back against it. “We indeed have an onslaught of guests for dinner this evening.” Counting off on her fingers, she continued, “The Duke of Wolfebourne, Lady Margaret, Lady Longmorten, the Marquess of Strathyre and his wife, Viscount Blytheston, and Sir Andrew Gransington.”
“An odd number,” Grace said, “Mrs. Flackney must be beside herself.”
“Yes,” Serendipity said. “She came to me with the seating issue. I told her to set an extra place, and we shall say someone we expected cried off on short notice.”
