Page 273 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

’Twas on the tip of Luce’s tongue to ask just how Brier’s sister would know of fist-size bruises. But the effusive Eve wasn’t close to finished.

“How did you meet? Where?” The unlined face and open expression showed her to be substantially younger than her brothers. Younger than Luce. “When did you marry?”

“Marry?” Luce gulped. “We aren’t— Have yet to—” At the open curiosity, the lack of censure on the other woman’s face, Luce’s tongue kept flapping. “We did occupy… Ahm, we didn’t bed together. I mean to say, we did. But he didn’tbedme. We didn’t— Did not—”

“Halt. Do not distress yourself. ’Tis not my place to censure another’s actions.”

“You don’t understand. I was in a carriage accident.” Luce thought it best to forbore relaying the whole chased-by-a-beast thing. “I was injured. Everything was closed. With the storm and the ice—”

“But you suffer no other severe injuries?” Luce shook her head, unable to do anything else, sheer wonder rolling over her at the warm reception Eve gave, welcoming her presence in her brother’s life. “Please, say no more.” Eve smoothed her thumbs over the wrappings. “How I have wished for the time when I would see Brier with another female. I care not how you met. Just knowing he encouraged you to remain. That”—her gaze slid upward, toward the bed they had so recently occupied. “Well.”

The other woman fairly beamed, released Luce’s hands and rose up on her knees to give Luce an unexpected hug. When she leaned back, the smile was still in place. “I’m Eve, the youngest. What is your name? Pigs and puddles, I cannot believe I didn’t ask you that before. You shall meet the rest of us soon enough, I am sure. And though you haven’t had timeyet, shall I wish you happy? The two of youare…” Her eyebrows angled toward thebed. “Right?”

And there it was.

He had all but invited her to trape down the stairs and introduce herself to his family, but had he mentioned marriage? Explicitly? She couldn’t recall.

But he had spoken of a lifetime together, of making memories and laughter.

“We only just met.”And yet you spent the night in his arms? In his bed?

“Adzooks, what has that to do with anything?” Eve rhapsodized. “Ourparents met at Papa’s betrothal ball to another and they both stole off untiltheirparents agreed to the match, or mismatch, as it were. A potential marquis—”

“M-marquis?”

“He was fourth in line at the time, had discounted the possibility himself, but came into the title and lands after several unexpected occurrences. That and far sooner than anyone could have anticipated.” Eve waved it off as though the news were naught but lint to be flicked. “And Mama the third daughter of the local magistrate, the family only invited to help make even numbers—and because I gather her eldest sister was friends to Papa’soriginalintended. As to their union? Married forty-two years and still unfashionablyin love.”

“And this, after onlyonemeeting?” Luce could scarce believe it. “Pray, share more.”

Why? Do you need to hear of another’s folly, a successful one? Before committing to one yourself?

“I gather theirs was a raretwo-season scandal,” Eve confided, “thanks to the fray his original betrothed kept on everyone’s lips. Though I think Thorne and Sharpe may have usurped—”

A jumble of strong footsteps sounded beyond their cozy spot.

Three gentlemen jostled around the corner, all stopping at once.

Brier, barefoot in between the two others. Easy to identify even had her gaze not sought him out, over and above the other two who resembled him mightily, even though one of them had lighter hair than the rest of the siblings.

None of the three newly arrived siblings appeared travel worn. His two brothers attired more elegantly than one might expect for an early-morning call after such a blanket of muck and mud covered London and the surrounding roadways, given the lingering ice and storms. Their Hessians, dark pantaloons and embroidered waistcoats, beneath fine-fitting waistcoats indeed, contrasted sharply with Brier’s modest pants and shirt—and naught else.

There was no mistaking the brotherly similarities between the three. The way they stood, held themselves. Their very posture—aye, their impressive presence—that reached out and fairly delivered an unexpected blow to her middle.

Especially when Brier said with obvious pleasure, “You came down.”

His relief warmed her heart and calmed the riotous churning clanging in her chest the interruption—not to mention the sight of him—caused.

“What, ho? Andwhois this?” The slightly younger one, with hair that couldn’t decide whether to be brown or blond, kept glancing between Brier and herself and just grinned.

“I did not get very far,” she admitted, keeping her gaze steady on his.

“So you finally took a mistress? You bawdry old dog!” The other one, with hair dark as sin and sun-hewn features knuckled Brier’s head, hard enough to make him wince. “Certainly took you long enough.”

“Mistress, my arse. He’s not the type. And don’t insult the lady.” The other one reached around Brier to punch the darker one in the arm. Then he addressed Brier. “What have you been keeping from us? Have you gone and got yourself buckled without telling—”

“That is beyond enough.” Beside her, Eve swept to her feet and marched forward, whispering something to Brier as she hooked an arm through each of the others’ and tugged them back the way they’d just come, away from the back rooms and toward the shop. “Out with you both,” she ordered in a booming voice, despite her smaller stature. “Bri does not need either ofyoudistractions distracting him from his mission.”

Amidst their good-natured grumbling, diminishing by the moment as they retreated, Brier approached, his haphazard clothing and mousled hair—plus his lack of footgear—gave evidence for his brother’s assumption. “Were you going to keep walking?” he asked quietly as he reached her, and she tilted her head upward to meet his downturned gaze. “Were you intending to come find me, or did Eve catch and halt you unawares?”

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