“Put me down now!”
He did, fighting back the moan as she slid down his body. The woman tempted him, there was no getting around that fact.
“You will sleep here, Dimity. I will have water for washing and food brought. I would ask you to stay here until morning, then we will talk.”
“I do not want to stay here.” Her eyes went to the bed.
“One night is all I ask of you. If not for you, then think of Walter. He is likely tired and hungry. Arguing is prolonging his wait for a meal.”
The dog sat and tilted his head slightly, studying them.
“Promise me you will be here in the morning, Dimity.”
Her eyes returned to his.
“I know that if you give me your word, you will keep it,” Gabe added.
“How do you know that?”
“My sister told me you were one of the most honorable people she knows.”
“Oh.” She pressed a fist to her mouth to stop more tears. “Very well, I give you my word.”
“Good girl.” Gabe patted Walter’s head.
“Can I please have my gun back. It is precious to me as I do not have many things that belonged to my father.”
“Because your brother has them?”
She nodded
“If you promise not to use it I will give it back.”
“I can shoot it, he taught me.” Her chin raised daring him to deny her.
“Very well.” He took it out of his pocket and handed it to her. He then left before he hauled her into his arms and held her until she was strong again. His butler caught up with him in the hallway.
“Fairfax, have food and washing water brought to my sister’s room. Miss Brown is to stay there tonight. She has a large hound with her also that will need nourishment.”
His butler never blinked.
“At once, my lord.”
Making his way along the halls, he looked in rooms but saw no sign of his brothers. Finally he tracked one down in the library. Of the four Deville sons, this was the gentlest. They could all be fiery upon occasion, irrational, and irresponsible, but it was Michael who could be calm in the midst of a storm. The peacemaker of the family.
“Who won?” Gabe wandered in and poured himself a brandy from the decanter on the side table.
“Me, actually. Nathan became irrationally angry when I first beat him, which meant I only had to annoy him some more for him to lose the ability to concentrate.”
Gabe laughed; he could imagine that. Nathanial was the fiercest of them all.
“Where have you been? All you said was you had an errand to run before you left,” Michael asked him. “And why is there a bruise on your cheek? Surely you of all people should know how to win in a fight?”
“Abby sent me a letter,” Gabe said after a mouthful of brandy. He enjoyed the warmth as it traveled down his body. “She is worried about Miss Brown, and it was her I went to find.”
“Ah, the fiery piano teacher who always got under your skin,” Michael said. “That still does not explain the bruise.”
Each of the brothers had the same look made up in different ways. Michael was his equal in height and build, but with blue eyes and brown hair.
