Argyll stiffened.
Oh, hell. His bold bride hit her first misstep.
The big brother not only parried, he thrust. “Do you intend to reform Argyll?”
There it was. St. John knew the answer to the question he’d asked. A debauched chap like Argyll couldn’t be…
He cringed. Hell, he couldn’t even say the wordreformed.
Argyll’s nape tingled with the sea of stares all the Kearsleys put his way.
He knew better than to look.
“Did he seduce you?” St. John asked bluntly.
Big brother finally asked the correct question.
Argyll hadn’t, but he damned well should have. It was an unforgiveable oversight he’d correct tonight. And one he greatly looked forward to.
His skin prickled and he looked to the source. Four lethal pairs of eyes were locked on him.
“No!” he mouthed, emphatically.
“No,” Daria’s answering echo leant Argyll much-needed support.
“See,” he said soundlessly.
One of the two sisters-in-law, whose names he didn’t know, speared him clean through with a look to kill. “Why?”
Only these bizarre Kearsleys would be enraged rather than relieved by that assurance.
One of the young women, still a stranger to him, spoke with warning and suspicion. “If you are besotted enough to marryDaria without any of her family knowing her intentions, then why were you not overcome with passion?”
His neck went hot. “I…”Have no words. Not a single one.
Argyll leaned towards the girl who’d quit the keyhole. “Uh…whom do I have the pleasure in meeting?” he asked, searching for time. A diversion. Anything.
“Yoursister-in-law, Cora Kearsley.” Her slightly bent nose, from what appeared to be a fracture, wrinkled. “Who, by your query, you know nothing of. And that is Brenna.” She pointed at another Kearsley, who lifted a little wave. “And—”
Little Eris and Little Great Bard spoke at the same time.
“We’ve met,” Eris said.
“I do desire we may be better strangers.”
Yes, me too, Miss Kearsley. Me too.
Cora the Ceaseless didn’t let up. “According to Erasmus Darwin, sexual desire is a natural part of human nature.”
A cough tore from him. “Who?”
Shades of disgust, disappointment, and disdain crossed all their familiar features.
“Darwin?” Miss Cora Kearsley let out a long, disapproving sigh. “The scientist. He tells us reproductive nature is driven by primal instincts. Not shame. Nor moral constraints. As such, if youdesireDaria so deeply, you would not be able to contain yourself.”
“Ladies!” he snapped erect. “Might I remind you there is a child present.”
Their queer quartet looked about.
