Oliver frowned. “They are dangerous, not intriguing.”
“Yes, yes, and where do we find these rascals who approached my brother?”
Oliver glanced at Helgate, who answered, “If the description of the scars you described in your missive is accurate, you are looking for Maxen Fury and Dagger Fury. But there are seven of them altogether—byblows who took their own name and built an empire on it. They are not easy men to deal with.”
“DaggerFury?”
Oliver sighed, then gave a low chuckle. The fascination in her tone had returned tenfold. “A nickname, I gather?” he directed at Helgate, who nodded.
“Many of the Furys go by a nickname rather than their real names.”
“Well,” Lady Louisa said. “Unfortunately for this Maxen and Dagger,” she smiled again, “we are not easy to deal with either.”
“Do you have a plan?” Helgate asked, glancing between the two of them. “I hope you have a plan.”
Oliver nodded. “Request nicely.”
“A marvelous plan,” Helgate said flatly. “When do you plan to ask nicely?”
“I vote for sooner rather than later,” Louisa said, setting her sherry aside. “And after you’ve asked nicely, I would like to give them a piece of my mind for approaching a young child to do their dirty deeds.”
Oliver’s gaze locked with hers, and he inwardly sighed. He had expected this. Lady Louisa wouldn’t tag along merely for the sake of tagging along. A wolf had approached her cub, and she now wanted to meet that wolf eye to eye. He would rather she not, but he also wasn’t that worried. He’d be there every step of the way. He supposed that was worrisome in its own right—him indulging her to such an extent—but not so much that he wanted to dwell on the matter.
“I would not dare stop you,” Oliver reassured when sudden challenge lit her gaze, as though she expected him to put up a fight. With anyone else, he would have.
“What about me?” Leo piped up.
“You, I dare stop,” Oliver said without hesitation. One Talbot was enough.
The boy pouted, looking at his sister for help.
Louisa’s lips twitched as she shrugged. “The man wants what the man wants.”
“How about I take you fishing?” Helgate offered, tipping his head toward the shore. “We can have Miles cook the fish you catch.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Truly?”
Helgate pressed his hand over his heart, solemn as a judge. “Truly.”
“No matter what the fish?”
Helgate paused, and so did Oliver. “We can cook any fish you catch, but I make no promise that I shall eat it.”
Leo lifted his head a bit. “Very well. I shall stay and put food on the table since I am the provider in my father’s stead.”
“Right you are,” Louisa agreed before she returned her gaze to the shore with a chuckle. “I cannot get enough of this view.”
Oliver agreed. She was.
Helgate sent him a probing look, his voice dipping low, but not enough for it not to be overheard. “Do you know what you are doing?”
What a question. He wanted to say yes. He normally did. But he couldn’t claim such a thing this time. It would be a lie. “I am addressing each circumstance as it presents itself.”
Helgate arched a brow. “Since when do you deal with circumstances individually without thoroughly planning for them? Damn near drove me crazy with it in the past.”
“Since recently.” Oliver couldn’t pretend he hadn’t had much of a choice, because he had. He had made his choices, one after the other. He could have done things differently from the very start. “Be that as it may, what’s done is done.”
“Well, Godspeed, then.”
