Libby arrived, and Rosie gently transferred her sleepy sister to the nursemaid. She went over to Andrew, who was standing by the pianoforte. He smiled at her, his tawny hair gleaming, his eyes warm. He was so virile and handsome in his stark evening attire that her heart hiccupped. Later on tonight, after she told him she loved him, she looked forward to removing his garments, piece by well-tailored piece. Her nipples budded beneath her black velvet bodice, her pussy dampening.
Flustered, she hid her response behind a bright smile. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Evidently not as much as I’m going to later,” he murmured, “when I take you home.”
As usual, he saw straight through her.
Her cheeks warmed; the crinkles around his eyes deepened.
Before she could come up with some rejoinder, Edward and Frederick, the Tremonts’ eldest, ambled over. How quickly the two of them were growing out of their boyhood. Their lean, gangly frames were starting to fill out, and both adolescents bore the stamp of their handsome fathers. And, goodness, was that a shadow of a mustache on Freddy’s upper lip?
“I have a question for Corbett,” Edward said without preamble.
Oh, Lord. Precocious as a child, Edward had blossomed into a full-blown genius who could converse freely on any number of intellectual topics. Despite his undeniable intelligence, he could be oblivious to basic social niceties. To Rosie’s exasperation, he was often too direct and intellectual in polite company… and he could never manage to keep his cravat straight. She itched to straighten his crooked Four-in-Hand at the same time that she braced for his question, which could be about anything from the history of the cosmos to mathematical theorems to crop rotation.
“I’m at your disposal,” Andrew said gravely.
Edward looked him in the eye. “Are you courting my sister?”
Rosie’s jaw slackened.
“I want to know as well.” Freddy drew himself up, his light hair gleaming and grey eyes serious. “No one will tell Edward and me anything.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “That is a matter between your sister and me.”
“Since my sister has shown questionable judgement of late,” Edward said stiffly, “I must insist that you answer the question, sir.”
Rosie’s surprise at her brother’s newfound protectiveness evaporated in an instant.
She crossed her arms over her bosom. “Myquestionablejudgement?”
Edward turned an acute green gaze upon her. “You eloped with a fellow who was murdered on your wedding night. You’ve been shot at.”
“And you need to have guards accompanying you for protection,” Freddy added.
Botheration.They had a point.
Loftily, she said, “This is an adult matter.”
“I am not a child, Rosie.” Edward’s hands balled at his sides. “When I ask Mama and Papa, they tell me to mind my own business. But you are my sister, and therefore itismy business to protect you if need be.”
Two facts astonished her: the first was that her parents were defending her right to privacy and the second that her little brother was worried about her and wanted to defend her honor. She and Edward loved each other unconditionally, of course, but their interactions had historically consisted of bickering and annoying one another, mostly on purpose. This was a side of Edward she hadn’t encountered before, and his care for her warmed her insides like mulled cider.
“Thank you, Edward,” she said softly. “And you too, Freddy. But you don’t need to protect me from Mr. Corbett. He’s been my champion. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Edward gave Andrew another once-over. Andrew, to his credit, kept his expression neutral while being sized up by the adolescent.
“Do you playvingt-et-un?” Edward said abruptly.
Nowthiswas the brother she knew. All his life, Edward had been prone to non sequiturs. Mama said it was because his brain worked too quickly for most to follow.
Andrew’s brows raised slightly. “Yes.”
“Fancy a game? Freddy will deal.”
Rosie didn’t trust the smug look exchanged between the adolescent pair.
“Why not?” Andrew said.
