“Yes, when?” Roxburghe asked as he emerged from the ballroom with Miss Webb on his arm.
Levi flicked his gaze to his friends as they spilled into the foyer. “There’s an important matter that needs to be discussed after we transport Miss Braddock, Miss Webb, and Miss Fernsby-Webb to my home.”
“Why your residence?” Roxburghe’s eyes narrowed.
“It would be improper for Miss Braddock to reside there alone,” Levi said, his arms unwilling to release Miss Braddock. “And since Mr. Drummond is aware of the location of her current living situation, none of the ladies should remain there until we’re certain the threat has passed.”
“We’ll transport their belongings immediately,” Roxburghe replied, then grinned. “However, since my fiancée will be changing locations, my presence at your lodgings will become permanent until we are married.”
Levi’s mouth twitched. “Is that your argument against allowing me your wedding date?”
“I’m not giving you my date,” Roxburghe snapped.
One week later, five dukes, less Grisham, gathered in Levi’s study to officially witness to his downfall.
Raising his glass, Levi stood before them and acknowledged each man in turn. “My friends, I’ve requested your presence this evening to formally admit my loss and ask for a favor.”
“The answer is still no,” Roxburghe replied, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk.
Levi scowled at him. “Mr. Braddock is constantly underfoot.”
“And now, you are suffering through my predicament.” Draining his cup, Roxburghe set the glass on a small table beside him. “Miss Fernsby-Webb is quite tenacious herself when it comes to protecting her sister.”
“You need a distraction,” Beaufort said, gesturing between them with his glass. “Someone who will entertain both Miss Fernsby-Webb and Mr. Braddock.”
“Are you volunteering your services?” Levi asked, exchanging a glance with Roxburghe.
Beaufort shrugged. “Warwick has been here nearly a fortnight, and Mr. Philbert hasn’t once tried to possess him. I suppose I could stay here as well.”
“Perhaps he’s waiting for your body,” Warwick grumbled, slashing his cane in Beaufort’s direction.
Suddenly, the study door opened, and a gaunt man with hollowed cheeks and dark hair strolled into the room. The glass slipped from Levi’s fingers and hit the rug, shattering and soaking the bottom of his trousers with sherry. Disbelief flowed through him.
“Richard?” Levi took a step toward his brother. “I thought you were in the country.”
“I arrived a month ago.” His brother swiped his shaggy hair from his eyes. “Your friends saw me in the corridor a few days ago. How could you not know I was here?”
“Only Roxburghe knows what you look like!” Levi flung his hands in the air. “We thought the house was haunted.”
Richard burst out laughing and doubled over, placing his hands on his knees. The riotous sound drew Miss Braddock and Miss Webb from the parlor, and they appeared in the study doorway, their faces sharing various shades of confusion.
“Eveline,” Levi glided to her side and drew her into the study, “I’d like to introduce Mr. Philbert’s spirit… my brother, Mr. Richard Overton.”
She laughed, then curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Glancing at Levi, Richard—his face devoid of emotion—asked, “Is this my future sister-in-law?”
Levi nodded once. “She is.”
“Thank the Lord!” Leaping forward, Richard enveloped Miss Braddock in a gruff hug. “I feared if he waited any longer, I’d have to carry out the duties of the firstborn.”
“That’s enough,” Levi said, only partially teasing as he pulled Miss Braddock from his brother’s arms. “If you want a wife, there’s only one available woman in this house.”
“Actually,” Miss Webb said, strolling toward Roxburghe, “my sister may already be spoken for.”
“By whom?” Beaufort demanded and slammed his glass down beside Roxburghe’s.
A ghost of a smile flitted across Miss Webb’s face. “I don’t recall the gentleman’s name.”
