“It has a pleasant ring to it, does it not?”
Warrick sighed, pouring himself more coffee. At this rate, one pot would not be enough. He glanced at the women, his mind spinning on how to prevent the explosion that was about to follow this bout of bickering. “What is the parade you are joining about?”
“No one is joining any parade,” Saville bit out.
Lady Selena extended a long, shapely, unwelcomely tempting leg. “Why, showcasing these Turkish trousers.”
The trousers? Surely there must be a deeper plot here. “Is that all there is to this parade?” Warrick asked.
“Is that not enough?”
More than enough. They alone were a shock to any man’s heart. A statement? A war cry? At this point, he couldn’t tell anymore. The women had all misplaced their wits. The men not far behind. But one thing was clear beyond the shadow of a doubt—the challenge in both women’s gazes.
But why had they boldly declared their intention?Were the two women testing or teasing them?
“You might as well just come along,” Lady Theodosia said, her smile matching Lady Selena’s. “You are going to follow us anyway.”
Christ, both, then.
Saville’s hands slammed on the table. “You are not leaving the house dressed like that in those... in those...”
“Turkish trousers,” Theodosia supplied before she narrowed her eyes. “And why are you looking daggers at me? I’m a guest. I can leave whenever I want.”
“Guest or not, neither of you are leaving this house dressed in those godawful things.”
A chill slithered down Warrick’s spine as Selena’s gaze turned to him. “Why, brother? Can’t the watchdog you’ve put on my tail just follow us? He’s been doing such a smashing job of it so far.”
The chill turned to frost.
They knew.
Warrick caught Saville’s glare. “What?” he defended. “I’ve been careful.”
“Not careful enough.”
“In all fairness...” Lady Selena’s tone dripped syrup. “A behemoth with no sense of awareness makes for a terrible spy.”
Warrick drew his brows together. “What do you mean no sense of awareness? I am very aware.” Ofeverysituation that includes you.
“Really? Then have you noticed the way people whisper and stare at you when skulking behind lampposts in Bond Street?”
He hadn’t.
His attention had always been firmly on her. Which was the entire bloody point, wasn’t it? This was all Saville’s fault. And if Selena knew he’d been following her, then looking back, he had a suspicion he’d been led around by the nose on more than one occasion.
Very well. He supposed she had a point. His awareness of his environment had become dismal.
“Not to even mention when Harriet was kidnapped in broad daylight a fortnight ago. You missed that entirely.”
“I was concentrating on you,” Warrick said, once again defending himself. Another theme of his life lately.
“Then I should applaud your focus. That at least, is truly remarkable.”
“Do not change the subject,” Saville spoke up. “Join this parade if you must, but you are not leaving this house unless you change to proper attire. That is my final say on the matter.”
“You are the worst.” Selena grabbed hold of Lady Theodosia’s arm. “Come, let’s leave before I strangle my brother.”
The women sauntered from the room without so much as a backward glance.
