Oscar took her outstretched hand at last, shaking it gently. “There is no repayment necessary. It was my pleasure.”
His gaze moved to Imogen, and now she blushed. He had gone too far, revealed too much before this audience and embarrassed her. He had no idea why he’d done it. Why he’d felt a need to reconnect with her when he didn’t even know her intentions.
Lady Lovell squeezed Imogen’s elbow gently, and he saw Imogen straighten a little, as if she had been buoyed up by her friend’s support. That made him like the viscountess even more.
Lady Lovell cleared her throat and said, “But I swear to you that Imogen had no idea I was bringing this small army with me.” Oscar met Imogen’s eyes and she nodded slightly. Lady Lovell continued, “I thought you might not see us if I told you I was bringing help. But that is what this group is. Everyone here wishes to assist with this investigation. Help Imogen.”
Oscar jolted. Could that be true? Was none of this sudden arrival of his family about him after all, but…her? And if so, how could he refuse that assistance if it might save her life?
“I suppose I understand that,” he said reluctantly. He faced the gathered crowd. “I think most of us need no introduction.”
“Yes, you wrote us off long ago, didn’t you?” Selina said as she glared at him and folded her arms. She looked so much like their late father in that moment that he nearly flinched. “So why waste time on pleasantries now?”
“Selina,” the man beside her said softly, his hand coming to the small of her back. Then he nodded toward Oscar. “I am Derrick Huntington, Mr. Fitzhugh. Selina’s husband.”
“Selina is my sister, Imogen,” he said.
Imogen caught her breath and stepped forward, her hand fluttering out like she wanted to touch him, comfort him, but not quite doing it. He found himself wishing she had in this dizzying moment. “What?”
Oscar ignored the question and gave a slight nod for Huntington.
“This is my partner and fellow investigator, Mr. Edward Barber,” Huntington continued, motioning to the Black man who was coming forward, hand extended.
“A pleasure,” Oscar said, and meant it, for while he might have issues with Selina and Nicholas, he had none with her companions. “I’ve heard good things about your investigative prowess, gentlemen.”
Lady Lovell moved to the door and took Oscar’s brother’s hand. Nicholas didn’t take his eyes off Oscar, but allowed her to draw him to Imogen. “This is Nicholas Gillingham. Nicholas, this is my best and truest friend, Imogen Huxley.”
“He’s also my brother,” Oscar interjected, and for a moment he thought Imogen might fall over from the shock of it all.
“Nicholas who you…” Imogen whispered, and Lady Lovell nodded to fill in a gap Oscar didn’t understand. “I-I didn’t know he was related to Oscar…Mr. Fitzhugh.”
“Neither did I until Mr. Fitzhugh’s name came up in your letter,” Lady Lovell said, and glanced at Oscar.
Nicholas came forward, slow with his cane. Oscar found himself glancing at his leg. Everyone knew Gillingham had nearly died in the war. Now he found himself wondering more about him. He’d always all but ignored his existence, going so far as to ban him from his club.
“We’ve never met,” Gillingham said as he extended a hand. “Nicholas Gillingham.”
It was a firm handshake when Oscar took it. His brother didn’t posture or pull. And when he let him go, his gaze wasn’t cold or cruel, rather kind but also curious.
Oscar cleared his throat and turned away. He didn’t want kind. He didn’t want curious. Not from the siblings he’d made a purposeful effort to avoid.
“And I recognize our other companions,” he said in the most breezy tone he could manage. “The Duke and Duchess of Willowby, if I’m not mistaken. Friends of our only legitimate sibling, the great Duke of Roseford. I assume you’re here onhisbehest?”
He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone, and he noted how Willowby’s eyes narrowed in protective annoyance. “I am a friend of Robert’s,” he admitted. “But I’m not here because of that connection. My wife and I are in the War Department, Mr. Fitzhugh. I’m here on behalf of king and country.”
Imogen gasped, and again her hand fluttered like she wanted to touch him in this moment. “Youare the agents?”
The Duchess of Willowby arched a brow at her husband. “You act as though you’ve heard of us.”
“Only rumors of your existence,” Imogen breathed. “And that you were titled. He reallyisa duke, Oscar.”
“I am that,” Willowby said with a shrug. “Amongst a great many other things. My title might be the least interesting thing about me.”
Oscar glared at him. He supposed that was this man’s attempt to offer some kind of comfort when it came to this situation. That somehow he was better than the others who might hold his title. Well, he would believe that when he saw it. Which meant they should get down to business.
“And now that we’ve participated in Mrs. Huntington’s requiredpleasantries,” Oscar said with a quick glance for Selina, who glared at him in return, “perhaps we can get down to what we’re all here for.”
“Imogen, where have you been? What happened?” Aurora said, grasping her friend’s hands and drawing her to a settee in the middle of the room. The rest took places around them.
