Oh, hell.
“Eris,” he said tersely. “I’m talking about Eris.”
He’d made a grave mistake. A very, very, very grave one.
“You’re callingmea child, Argyll?” Eris’s skewered him alive with fiery eyes. “Only one of us doesn’t know Erasmus Darwin and it isn’t me.”
Argyll blinked slowly. The Kearsley girls collectively knocked down a solid pride and confidence he’d been born and blessed with.
Brenna chimed in, “I know!”
Fortunately, the chit kept focus off Argyll. He owed her a bloody fortune.
“Perhaps,Cora, it is because he loves her too much to have taken her virtue,” the young lady concluded.
Argyll slumped all the way down in his chair. By God, in what universe had he landed where young, virtuous ladies: one, spoke freely about their fellow virginal sister being despoiled, and two, took offense at Argyll’s failure to do so?
Christ. Make it stop. Make them stop and I’ll reform. I will.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Cora protested.
None of them did.
“How selfish soever man may be supposed,” Brenna said, “there are evidently some principles in his nature which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Eris looked between her sisters.
“I means that despite men being selfish, they possess some sympathy and care about others,” Cora explained. “Brenna suggests the duke can desire Daria, but his regard for her allowed him to wait for their wedding night.”
His ears burned.
“An Adam Smith-quoting sister to go with Shakespeare.” Argyll drove the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Do we have any others? Any Greek or Roman philosopher quoting ones?Hmm?”
Eris shot a palm up.
Argyll stared blankly at the girl.
Frantic, she shook her fingers at him.
He glanced around at her other sisters, who’d all gone back to attending Lord St. John’s door.
With the arm draped along the bench rail, Argyll pointed a finger Eris’s way. “You.”
The girl drew herself up to her full height, puffed her chest out, and took a deep breath. “You nobles, you sons of my leading men, soft and dandified, trusting in your birth and your wealth, paying no attention to my command and your advancement, you neglected the pursuit of learning and indulged yourselves in the sport of pleasure and idleness.”
The girl looked quite gratified with her performance.
He sighed. “Charlemagne.Of course.” They’d been missing a good ole military general amongst their repertoire.
Cora Kearsley glanced their way. “He knows Smith and Charlemagne.”
That brought all the Kearsleys’ attention back Argyll’s way. A murmur rolled around the quartet.
“He cannot be all bad,” Bluestocking Brenna concluded.
Oh, no. Argyll really was that bad.Worse.
“No, Daria. I have heard you. Now it is your turn to hear me.” Floorboards shifted, indicating the viscount likely moved nearer his sister. “You have always been different than all of us. Darker. More somber.”
