“Shit,” Danny said, rubbing at his jaw.
A scarlet blush climbed into the young woman’s cheeks. “I—we—that is to say—” Her shoulders slumped, and she jammed the point of her elbow into Danny’s side. “You said the balcony was deserted!” she hissed.
“It damn well ought to have been!” he volleyed back. He reached down to seize her hand, and began dragging her back toward the doors. “Come on, Hannah,” he said. “Too damned crowded out here for my taste. And as for the two of you,” he added, leveling a hard stare at both Henry and Grace. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Fair enough,” Grace said. “But dothoroughly vet your assignation spot next time, hm?”
“I did,” Danny said, sullenly. “You weren’t here when I checked ten minutes ago.” And with that they were gone, though the sulky grumbling persisted for a long moment after the two had vanished from sight.
“He’s got some nerve,” Henry said. “Our silence for his. Does your family frequently stoop to such underhanded methods?”
“We cheat at cards for fun,” she reminded him dryly. “Quid pro quois child’s play. Besides,” she added, “he’s going to marry her, eventually. Everyone knows it. I won’t begrudge them a few moments of privacy. Will you?”
Curiously, a laugh rattled somewhere deep in his chest. These people—her family—the lot of them were incomprehensible. Chaotic and half-feral and interspersed with disreputable characters and not remotely the sort of people with whom he was meant to associate. And yet...he felt he could almost grow accustomed to it. To the sort of family that was loud and brash and demonstrative. To their particular brand of anarchy. “No,” he said. “I suppose I won’t.”
Most especially not if it bought them another few private moments of their own.
Chapter Fifteen
Ithought you hated that cat.”
Henry startled at the sound of Mother’s voice from somewhere behind him, his fingers freezing atop Tansy’s soft grey fur. She had been in the garden when he’d returned home for the evening, rolling about in a patch of catmint with wild abandon. He’d meant only to enjoy a glass of brandy in the garden, but Tansy had had other ideas. The moment she’d caught sight of him, she had come bounding over to leap onto his lap.
For half an hour now he’d been trapped by the solid weight of the cat across his thighs. His brandy gone. Trousers now covered in fine grey cat hairs that would no doubt give his valet fits.
But there had been something soothing about that great rumble of a purr, and the repetitive action of pulling tiny purple flowers from her fur as she’d lounged upon his lap.
“She’s growing on me,” he admitted as Tansy shoved her face into the cup of his hand, scratching her cheek upon his fingernails. “I’ve been debating whether or not I should take her back to her home.” Hoping, instead, that Grace might come to retrieve her.
Mother crept closer, inching toward the empty chair across the table. “Eliza said she had found a way into the house?”
“Yes. She does, on occasion.” He had never been entirely certain how, but somehow it did not surprise that the cat was every bit as much a housebreaker as her mistress. “But Eliza fed her some bacon, and Tansy let me pick her up and bring her back home again.” He scratched his fingers between Tansy’s ears.
Mother laid her hand upon the back of the empty chair, smoothing at her black skirts with the other. “You had an engagement this evening?” she inquired.
“I did. Grace asked Mrs. Moore invite me to dine. It was mostly an opportunity to prevail upon Mr. Moore for a favor of sorts.”
Mother’s eyes widened, and she sank into the empty chair, her hands falling into her lap. “Mr. Moore was willing to extend you a favor?”
Henry chuckled. “No,” he said. “He’s not fond of me, as it happens. But heisfond of Grace. He agreed for her sake. So really, we owe her—and him—a great debt.”
“May I assume that this—this favor has got something to do with our…predicament?” Mother asked delicately.
“It does.” Henry hesitated. “It’s…difficult to say at this juncture what will happen.” He knew what he wanted to believe.Whohe wanted to believe. But he didn’t know how to make Mother believe it. “Suffice it to say that Grace is confident that our efforts will meet with success.” And she was also more competentthan he, in several ways.
“And you?”
“I believe Grace,” he said simply. “Her nose didn’t twitch.”
Mother’s brows lifted. “What does that mean?”
“It means she wasn’t lying.”
Mother blinked, her face arranged in perfect passivity. “Does she lie often?”
“When she feels she must, I suppose. But she’s got a tell. A twitchy nose.” An oddly endearing trait. “You would like her, I think.” At least, he hoped she would. “She invited Aunt Alicia to tea recently. I think she’d invite you, too, if I asked her.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—”
