“Tell me the one you wrote about the cow.”
“What if, instead, I ask Bessy to kick you in the?—”
“Very well, then.” Drew held up his hands as if to stop Bessy’s hooves. “No more music for the moment.”
They walked the rest of the way in cheerful silence, and when they reached the pub, Mrs. Dart still was nowhere to be seen. No gentle pink below dark, corkscrew curls. Drew scowled as he sat with his brothers.
Raph, the eldest of them, clapped a hand on his back. “Why so dour, Drew?” His dark hair waved back from his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled. He had a square jaw and a nose bumped with an old break gifted from a flying fist. Drew’s hand clenched, flexed open. He shook the memories out of it.
“You’ve no right to be dour.” Theo, the happy groom, slumped in his chair. “I do, though. They’ve taken my bride. Who knows where.”
Zander slammed mugs of ale on the table and pushed one before each brother. The five of them were similar in height and features, most of them having taken after their father with dark hair and eyes somewhere between blue and gray. Theo’s brown hair lightened in the summer to a dirty blond, a single concession to their mother’s lighter coloring.
“What are we discussing?” Zander asked. “Whose face is most displeasing? Very well then. Though I must admit it’s a difficult choice between young Theodore and the imposing Andrew, I must choose—ow!”
Theo raised a brow as Zander rubbed his upper arm and warily eyed Theo’s fist.
“Shall we take this outside?” Zander asked, all amicability.
Theo flexed his fist, then sipped his ale. “Tomorrow. If Cordelia finds out I’ve been brawling on our wedding day, she’ll become seriously displeased. And I prefer to keep herentirelypleased.” He grinned, took another sip. “Where the hell they’d take her?”
His brothers chatted, and Drew drank his ale slowly, letting it warm him. It had been some time since he’d sat with them like this. Since the night before their father’s funeral over a year and a half ago. That had been a much more somber event, though the ale had flowed freely and had been followed by a bottle of wine. Then one of whisky. Drew had supplied the whisky. He’d been the only one of them with his own consistent income.
So much had changed in a year, and he’d been away from it all, busy in Manchester instead of by Raph’s and Atlas’s sides at Briarcliff or in London with Zander and Theo. He’d met his brothers’ new wives but had not come to know them as sisters.
Better that way. Impossible to control the actions of others. Best to remain as isolated as possible. He didn’t even let Mrs. Dart close. Any closer than he had to, at least, for her to help him run the agency, for her to be its public face.
“Where the hell is Mrs. Dart?” he mumbled, a finger tapping on the tabletop.
“Speaking of Mrs. Dart.” Raph’s voice cut through the banter and laughter, and the brothers took long sips of their ale. “What is she to you?”
“My secretary,” Drew answered. “The face of my agency.” The screen he hid behind so the titled families he sent governesses and tutors to did not realize he actuallyworkedinstead of simply owning. A silly distinction. A game he had to play. But necessary to keep his reputation clean from the whiffof work,labor. His clients required it, and those he helped find positions relied on it.
“She lives in the same house as you.” Raph leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Not amused. Clearly.
“I have two townhouses side by side with entirely separate entrances. One for my male employees to stay in when necessary and the other for the women. I sleep in the townhouse for the men, and Mrs. Dart occupies the one for women. It is entirely incorrect to say she lives with me.”
“You have brought her to three weddings in the last year.” Zander raised his hand to catch a barmaid’s attention. “Another round.”
Drew held Raph’s gaze. “Where I go, my secretary goes.” His business did not go on holiday, so neither did his secretary.
“It’s not quite right,” Raph said. “We all know she’s not really a widow. Others have likely guessed as well. Surely you can find a fellow to do what she does so she may do… something else. There must be talk about you two.”
Everyone looked to Theo.
He shrugged. “I’ve heard nothing of interest. And I would.” Theo’s satirical prints had been published inAckermann’sand other well-read publications, and they always featured gossip of one sort or another. Usually the kind to ruin powerful men’s careers.
Hiring an unmarried woman as his secretary had been a bit of an unconventional move, but it had so far proved a smart one. She did the job better than anyone else could, kept his files and schedule in perfect order, as well as imbuing anyone who met her with a sense of confidence and trust. If Mrs. Dart said she’d find you the perfect governess, you believed it. Was he supposed to give that up because theremightbe rumors?
Drew looked to the rough beams of the ceiling overhead. “I understand your worry, Raph. I do. But she is a woman grown,and she can find another position if she so desires. She does not so desire. Besides, I couldn’t possibly replace her at the moment. I’m expanding.”
“Expanding?” Atlas asked.
The maid returned with five cold mugs and placed them before the brothers.
Drew took a long swallow before answering. “I’m opening a London agency. Manchester is an excellent location for newly wealthy families looking for elite educational resources.” He’d opened his agency there for just that reason. “They need tutors and governesses from the best houses in England, and I can provide that. But it is not London.” London would be more expensive, though not by much these days. And it would be bigger. His clientele would grow as would his reputation.
He looked to his brothers. They leaned back in their chairs, hands wrapped loosely around cups. All looked at him. Then at Raph. Then back at him.
