“I found another book you might enjoy, old boy,” Warren said as he bent to kiss first his aunt, then Clarissa. “It’s about automatons.”
She rolled her eyes as Warren handed it to Edwin. Of course, keen interest leapt in Edwin’s face the moment he scanned the cover. The earl did love his automatons, to the point where he even made his own, though Clarissa had never been deemed worthy enough to actually see one.
“Looks intriguing, thanks. I’ll get it back to you as soon as I’m done.”
“No hurry.” Warren shot her a veiled glance. “As you well know, I won’t need it anytime soon.”
Whatever was that about?
Before she could ponder it, Warren offered Mama his arm. “Come, Aunt, let’s get you off your feet while we have our wine before dinner. Don’t want to tax your hip overmuch.”
“Thank you, my lad,” she cooed, and let him lead her to the breakfast room. “That is ever so thoughtful of you! But then, you always were a dear. Why, I remember when . . .”
As Mama prattled on, Edwin was left to come behind with Clarissa. “So,” he murmured, “exactly what were you refusing to save for me?”
It took her a moment to remember that he’d overheard her earlier. “The biggest slice of cake.”
“I don’t like cake.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not wasting it on you. You won’t appreciate it, and you’d probably eat it just to be polite.”
He slanted a serious glance at her. “Perhaps I’d give it to you, instead.”
“I doubt that, but we’ll never know, shall we?” she said lightly. “I’m saving it for myself, regardless.”
“So I heard.”
“Because you were eavesdropping.” Mischief seized her. “How rude of you.”
As they passed into the breakfast room, he shrugged. “If you don’t want people hearing your pronouncements, you shouldn’t talk at the volume of a dockworker.”
Mama paused while settling onto the settee. “A dockworker! For shame, Edwin—what a thing to say to a lady! Have you no pretty compliments to offer?”
When he stood blatantly unrepentant, Clarissa said, “If Edwin knew how to compliment ladies, Mama, he would be too popular in society to settle for having dinner with the mere likes of us.”
“There’s no settling involved, I assure you,” he said irritably.
She was congratulating herself on getting beneath his cool reserve again when Warren stepped in. “Play nice now, cousin. We need him.”
“For what?” Clarissa asked.
Instead of answering, Warren gestured to the settee. “You’d better sit down. I’ve got something to tell you and your mother.”
Two
A short while later, Edwin watched as Clarissa demanded answers of her cousin. “And this letter from Niall requesting your help was just sitting here waiting for you? How long?”
“Only a few days,” Warren said.
“They should have sent it on!”
“We would have missed it, then. We were already on our way here.”
“And why did he send it to you, not us?”
“Because he wanted to keep you and your mother out of it if he could.”
Lady Margrave gave a bone-chilling cry. “Heaven help us all! My poor boy is in danger—I just know it! Or he’s gambled away all his funds!”
“I’m sure it’s nothing like that,” Warren said through gritted teeth.
“And Niall would never be so foolish as to lose everything at the tables,” Clarissa said grimly.
“He could have taken up with a bad crowd over in Portugal!” Lady Margrave protested. “I mean, if he was daft enough to get into a duel over some soiled dove all those years ago—”
“Mama!” Clarissa said, with a furtive glance at Edwin. “That’s enough.”
“It’s not as if the whole world doesn’t know how your brother ended up in exile,” Edwin said. “Blasted young bucks and their dueling. It’s been the bane of half the families in England.”
A flush of embarrassment stained Clarissa’s cheeks. At least, he assumed it was embarrassment. What else could it be?
Stiffening, she turned to Warren. “When are we leaving?”
“We are not leaving,” Warren said with a scowl. “You and your mother are staying here while I go to Portugal.”
“Mama can stay, but why can’t I go with you? I can help.”
Warren eyed her askance. “Do what? I don’t even know what I’ll be facing. Niall’s message was cryptic, and his circumstances unclear. All I know is that he needs me to help him out of a spot. I’m not dragging you with me when I’m unsure what to expect.”
“You cannot go, my dear,” Lady Margrave cried. “You might be captured by pirates! They roam those seas, you know.”
“Now, Mama, the likelihood of my being cap—”
“Oh, dear, dear, no. You mustn’t go. Only think what might happen to you!” Clutching her chest, Lady Margrave fumbled in a jeweled box on a table next to the settee. “I need my salts. Where are my salts?”