He was just doing what his sister had asked of him.
Loyal, obedient brother that he was.
To avoid the inevitable fanfare and speculation that would accompany his return to High Society, Sterling arrived in the wee hours of the morning and stumbled, drunk on gin and exhaustion, into his bed where he slept for the better part of three days.
He would have slept four, had he not been roused by an incessant pounding at the door.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he muttered, and nearly walked naked out his bedchamber before he remembered to grab a robe. He was immediately joined by his valet in the hallway, whose flustered appearance was atypical of the sixty-year-old servant’s generally stoic, unflappable disposition.
“I sincerely apologize, Your Grace. They refused to leave or even give a card. I tried repeatedly to have them sent away, but–”
“It’s all right, Higgins,” Sterling interrupted, waving off the valet’s profuse apology with a careless jerk of his arm. “I’m up now, and I can see what all the damned ruckus is for myself.” So saying, he paused at the open banister overlooking the two-story foyer and studied who was waiting for him down below. A man and a woman, both dressed in the plain, sensible clothes of the working class.
“Do you know them?” Higgins said anxiously. “I can have the constable called–”
“No need for that. The constable is already here.” Leaving his valet at the top of the steps, Sterling descended the staircase in a loose, lanky stride as he tightened the knot around his waist that was holding his robe closed. He’d no sooner reach the bottom than he found himself besieged by Thomas Kincaid and his pretty red-haired wife, Joanna, who he’d not yet met but immediately recognized as she shared enough similar traits with her sister, Evie, who he had metandattempted to seduce. An endeavor that had obviously failed, as she was now engaged to be married to Lord Weston.
“You can go,” he said, squinting blearily at Kincaid through bloodshot eyes. “It’s too early for business. But your wife can stay, as it’s never too early for pleasure.” A lazy grin slid across his mouth as he openly admired the detective’s American bride. She was taller than Evie, with a more willowy build, but the sisters had the same blue eyes and striking, bred-into-the-bone beauty. “You don’t have another sibling, do you?”
“As it so happens I do. Her name is Claire, and I wouldn’t let her within an ocean’s reach of you.” Although Joanna’s words were stern, the twitch of her lips revealed a strong sense of humor lurking behind her austere façade. A good thing, as Kincaid was far too practical by half and could greatly benefit from a touch of frivolity in his life. “You’re every bit as disreputable as my husband warned me you’d be, Your Grace.” Forgoing the more traditional and ladylike curtsy, she stuck out her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
“I’d say the same,” Sterling said with an amused glance at Kincaid after he’d shaken her hand, “if your husband wasn’t currently looking as if he wanted to take out his pistol and shoot me with it.”
“Strangle, not shoot,” Kincaid remarked with the mild calm of a man who was anything but. “It’d take too long to get the blood out of the marble.”
“Now that pleasantries have been exchanged, shall we adjourn to the parlor?” Joanna suggested brightly. “There’s much we need to discuss.” She used her elbow to give her husband a not-very-discreet nudge in the ribs. “With ourpayingclient.”
Kincaid’s eyes, a clear, intelligent amber behind round spectacles, remained pinned on Sterling. “Our paying client should have remained in the country as I advised him to.”
“Too many birds. They kept waking me up at ungodly hours.” He lifted a brow. “Is that a feather sticking out, Kincaid, or are you just pleased to see me?”
Joanna snickered. “Make thattwoocean’s distance.”
Once they were settled in the parlor, a large room with mahogany paneling that had always been a bit too somber for Sterling’s taste, he and Joanna sat across from each other on matching divans in emerald velvet while Kincaid remained standing, his arms behind his back and a frown fixed on his face.
“Go on,” Sterling sighed. “Best get the lecture of the way. I should have stayed at Hawkridge Manor as you told me, blah blah blah. But I’m not a bloody prisoner, am I?”
“You’re in the presence of a lady,” said Kincaid. “Please mind your language.”
“No ladies here,” Joanna put in cheerfully. Cupping a hand to her mouth, she leaned forward out of her seat. “Besides, I’ve said much worse.”
Kincaid grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, and then in a louder voice said, “I knew I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”
“MaybeIshouldn’t have broughtyou,” Joanna said with a haughty toss of her head. “Ever consider that?”
“I like her,” Sterling decided. He nodded at Joanna. “I like you.”
“The feeling, Your Grace, is mutual.”
“Please, call me Sterling.”
“Don’t call him that.” Kincaid jabbed a finger at Sterling. “And you, stop flirting with my damned wife.”
Sterling held up his hands, the very picture of degenerate innocence. “I’d never dream of it.” He lowered his voice. Added just a touch of consternation to it. “Please mind your language. We’re in the presence of a lady.”
Joanna snickered.
Kincaid growled.
