Page 98 of If the Slipper Fits
One corner of Zeke’s mouth hitched upward. “You asked me whether or not Kitty recognized yourfiancé.” He stressed the word, almost as if poking fun at Caden. “Hard to say.”
“Supposing Kitty did. What are the odds she’ll question Anna directly?”
Zeke grinned. “Is that a rhetorical question?”
“Hell and damnation,” Caden groused again, then sighed. “Thankfully Anna is, by no means, a shrinking violet. Too, the facts were all meant to come out eventually.”
“I’m relieved to hear you meant to fill us in before bringing scandal down upon our family.”
Caden arched a brow, amused in spite of himself. “Is scandal something you’re worried over, these days?” He refrained from iterating the obvious—to his mind, at any rate—that they’d all braved scandal quite recently—for Kitty’s sake.
“Worried is too strong a word. I’ll admit I would prefer to avoid one if possible.”
Caden examined his nails. “And if it isn’t?”
He looked up in surprise when Zeke reached over to squeeze his shoulder.
“In that case, forewarned is forearmed. I’m with you, brother, no matter what, always. Now, kindly bring me up to speed on where things stand before we present your situation to the earl.”
The door to the family parlor swung open. The earl, looking hale and fit and every bit the patriarch of the family, burst into the room. “So it’s true. My youngest grandson has returned to the fray—with a fiancé, no less.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Grandfather.” Caden rose, crossing to the old man to wrap him in an embrace. “It’s good to see you looking so well, my lord.”
“And why wouldn’t I? Have you met my young tiger?”
He referred to Kitty, his one-time servant-slash-companion.
Caden and Zeke exchanged amused glances.
“For some odd reason, I received word at the Fenton’s party that you’d taken seriously ill.”
The earl’s bushy gray brows furrowed.
Caden shrugged. “I’ll take it up with Harrison when next I see him—right after I thank him. As it happened, my fiancé and I needed to make ourselves scarce.”
Claybourne looked from Caden to Zeke, then fixed his gaze on the empty brandy snifters. “Do I need a drink to hear the rest of this tale?”
Slapping his hands on his knees, Zeke unfolded himself from his armchair. “Sit. I’ll pour, while Caden fills both of us in.”
The earl grinned. “And here I feared things might get boring around here.”
“Boring?” Zeke groused, half way to the credenza.
The earl waved his hand in a vague gesture as he settled onto the sofa. “No more damsels in distress—”
“—disguised as boy servants. I see your point,” Zeke agreed.
He splashed brandy into a snifter for the earl, then refilled his and Caden’s empty glasses.
Caden dropped into his vacated armchair and steepled his fingers. “Do you remember the doctor and his wife who leased the old cottage near the river on the other side of the bridge? Years ago, when Zeke and I were boys.”
His grandfather accepted his brandy with a nod of thanks for Zeke. “The ones who had the pretty little girl to whom you were devoted every summer?’
Caden slid Zeke an accusatory look.
Zeke barked out a laugh.
