Page 29 of Mr. Notorious and the Nefarious November

“Please.” Munro followed his brothers into the library and took a snifter from Arthur, who raised it.

“I can’t think of another trite phrase or hearty toast,” he said.

“To family,” Munro said.

“To family,” his brothers echoed and drank.

“Speaking of family.” Dudley took a seat on one of Arthur’s chairs, leaning forward to run his hand over the upholstery of the nearby footstool. “What are your plans, Munro?”

“I’ll be returning to the Continent. I have tickets on a packet to France tomorrow. From there, I travel back to Italy.”

“Why Italy?” Dudley asked.

“It’s beautiful, and it has the best food.”

“I imagine he also has a woman waiting for him there,” Arthur said, taking a seat across from Dudley while Munro stood near the fireplace. “Or are all those stories about brothels true?”

“I don’t have a woman waiting, and the only reason I ever go into a brothel is because they have the best wine. I have no wish to die of the pox.”

“If there’s no woman and Italian whores aren’t a temptation, why not stay in England?”

Munro shook his head.

“Your family is here, and I told you before that I could use your assistance with some of the assets tied to the title. I don’t know how Papa kept up with all his investments.”

“I’m here and could help,” Dudley said.

Arthur took another drink and looked at Munro. “As I said, I could use your help.”

“I wish I could stay, Arthur.”

“If this is about what Judith said the other day, I can speak with her.”

“It’s about Beatrice,” Munro said.

“Mrs. Barnet?” Dudley asked.

“Yes,” Munro said. “She’s refused my proposal, and I’d rather not have to stay here and watch as she accepts that of another man.”

Arthur shook his head. “You could go to the country. You wouldn’t have to see her.”

“She’s as much a part of this family as I am. I would have to see her, and I don’t want to make things awkward. I can start over in Italy. I can make a life for myself there.”

“I could come and visit,” Dudley said. “I have seen several remarkable footstools on auction that originated in Italy.”

“I could come and visit as well. In a few years the boys will be old enough for a Grand Tour.” He looked at Dudley. “That’s a tour of the sights and landmarks, not the footstools.”

“I know what a Grand Tour is,” Dudley said.

Munro and Arthur exchanged dubious glances. For a moment, Munro felt like he was home. How many hours had he and his brothers spent with their father in this library, talking and teasing and boasting about their futures? He would miss it.

“Thank you for ordering me back for Lavinia’s wedding,” he told Arthur. “I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad I ordered. I hope you don’t wait until Lydia marries to return. You’re always welcome.”

“Thank you.” Munro set his glass down. “I’ll say my farewells now. I’ll be gone by the time you wake in the morning.”

He embraced Arthur then Dudley. “Give my regards to Susan and Mary,” he said, recalling he hadn’t formally taken his leave of his sisters. “I’ll write to them.”

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