Having a sister wassoirritating … but lovely, too, Clio supposed.
“Anyway,” Phoebe said when she let her triumph hang in the air for a moment, “tell me more. I need the details! Paint me a picture; make it like I was truly there.”
Even when Phoebe was driving Clio to distraction, she still adored her sister by marriage. Besides, she liked a dramatic story as much as the next person; she might as well enjoy herself while she was in this safe environment, as Phoebe would never share gossip that would harm Clio’s reputation.
“Well,” she said, leaning forward, getting into the spirit of the thing. “He lifts me out of the carriage, and the whole thing moves again, and then he lowers medownagain to the street.”
“Without even breaking a sweat?” Phoebe asked, and Clio knew that Phoebe would use this information to tease her later, but she couldn’t lie.
“Not for a moment,” she said. “And it all wasn’t a moment too soon, either, because no sooner had he put me down on the cobblestones than the whole conveyance tips over with an almighty crash.”
Phoebe’s gasp was extremely gratifying.
“And that might have been the end,” Clio went, really getting into the swing of things, “but then who appears but this awful fellow I met on the ship voyage over, Lord Gwanton. Andhestarts making all kinds of … comments.”
Phoebe’s expression went dark. “Comments,” she echoed crossly.
“Comments,” Clio agreed. There really wasn’t anything else to say; she wasn’t about torepeatany of the vile things that Gwanton had said. “And then—” She paused; this was the best part. “And then the dukepunchedhim.”
Phoebe let out a little squeak that was honestly even better than the gasp had been.
“It was incredible,” Clio admitted. “And I know it’s very satisfying, since I had also punched Gwanton earlier that day.”
Phoebe, who had been reaching for a biscuit, did an elaborate double-take. Really, she was simply chock full of wonderful reactions today.
“Youwhat?”
Clio waved a hand. “He’s the kind of man who goes around making comments that make him very, very punchable.”
One of the wonderful things about Phoebe was that she was the kind of person who accepted this logic without any further questions.
“You have to admit,” Phoebe said slyly, “that itissort of romantic that the two of you punched the same man on the same day. Think about all the stories you can tell your grandchildren about how you met.”
“Ourgrand—” Clio cut herself off with an irritated squawk. “I don’t know where you get such ideas,” she amended with all the dignity she could muster.
“Oh, certainly not,” Phoebe said. “Whyever would I think that you encountering a man to whom you are clearly attracted?—”
“I amnotattracted to him,” Clio sputtered.
Phoebe ignored her.
“—and to whom you find yourself embroiled in an intriguing scandal?—”
“There isnota scandal! He just rescued me!”
“—should end in a romance between you?”
This wasobviouslyridiculous, but Phoebe had not proved reactive to Clio’s words, so Clio resorted to the mature and adult choice of throwing a biscuit at her.
“You are an unreasonable woman,” Clio informed her sister, getting to her feet with a huff.
Phoebe was laughing so hard she could scarcely speak. “Fighting shows passion,” she informed Clio’s retreating back through her guffaws. “The same kind of passion that can lead to grandchildren eventually!”
Clio left the room, her sister by marriage’s laughter echoing behind her.
Let Phoebe have her quips and her jokes. Clio wasnotattracted to that stubborn arse of a duke. She wasn’t.
She couldn’t be. Not without letting all the plans for her life fall apart.
