“Im,” the other man said in a loud whisper, “that didn’t sound quite right.”
She didn’t seem to care. “And take my sister’s lips from your mouth as well. The both of you.” Her glare burned harder on Rowan.
“You’re Isabella’s… twin?” Rowan said.
“Ooooh.” Poppins laughed. “That makes sense now.”
“What is your name?” Rowan asked, stepping to the side and offering her a chair.
The woman’s mouth thinned. She would not speak. And she would not sit in the offered seat.
“You have a twin, don’t you?” Rowan crossed his arms over his chest. “Her name is Isabella.”
The line of her mouth tightened further. Then it exploded. “Did you tell your man to abduct me off the street because you thought to manhandle my sister? What kind of nefarious villain are you?”
“Not nefarious. I am her employer.” Best way to explain it to this woman at this moment. “I merely sought to return her gloves.”
Poppins yanked the gloves out of his pocket and threw them on the table near the door.
“You may retire for the evening, Poppins,” Rowan said.
“Her employer?” The unnamed man blinked at Rowan. “Issy doesn’t have anemployer. Don’t trust this man, Im. He’s clearly a bounder who has no idea Issy’s a—”
“Thurston, darling,” the twin said between gritted teeth, “button the lips, please.”
“You button them for me?” A lascivious grin.
“I’ll unbutton themlater.”
“You were buttoning them right good in the alley when I caught you.” Poppins chuckled.
“Retire. Now.” Rowan pointed at the door.
All three made for the exit.
“Not you two. Miss Crewe and Miss Crewe’s… paramour. Stay.” Now was the time to gather more information about his fake wife than he’d ever gotten out of her so far. Particularly with Mr. Unbuttoned Lips. That fellow would spill secrets more quickly than a cup of water on an uneven surface.
“I don’t see why we should,” the twin said as Poppins grumbled his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him. “You have no hold over me.”
“I ask as a favor. Stay. You are not held prisoner.”
“That’s good. I was worried,” the other man said. “Resemble a pirate with that scar, you do.”
“Why do you wish us to stay?” the twin asked.
“To speak of your sister. I’ve come to know her well in the last weeks, and I would like to know her family, too. Shall we start with sitting? And exchanging names?”
“I think we should start with you putting some clothes on,” the nameless man said.
Rowan nodded and retrieved his waistcoat, slipped it on, and buttoned it up. “Better?”
The other man grunted. The twin sat.
“I’m Rowan Trent. The owner of Hestia.”
“I’m… Imogen.”
“Only Imogen?” Rowan asked.
