She had never in her life heard Jasper use that particular tone of voice. He excused himself from the group and, a minute or two later, she silently followed. No one appeared to notice her departure.
In the hall, Jasper caught her elbow and began to drag her rapidly away from the drawing room’s open door. She squeaked and dug her nails into his arm, but he made no sound, only pressed his mouth into a grim line and piloted her all the way to the fabric-covered threshold that marked the servants’ staircase. He yanked open the handle and put a hand on her lower back, meaning to thrust her up the stairs.
She widened her stance and put a hand on the doorjamb to brace herself. “Jasper,” she hissed, “what in heaven’s name is going on?”
“Why aren’t you in Sussex?”
“Why aren’tyouin Venice?” She squeezed his forearm so hard she thought she might draw blood, but—infuriatingly—he did not appear moved, only nudged her harder through the door.
“I’m not going anywhere until you—eep!”
Jasper was gone. He was one moment beside her, his forearm being slowly mangled by her fingernails, and the next moment altogether vanished.
“In the future,” said a familiar deep voice, “I trust you’ll listen to my wife.”
Good heavens, Lydia thought dreamily.
And then, a moment later,Oh hell.
Arthur swept her into his arms and held her against his broad chest for a long, luxurious moment. She caught his familiar scent of burnt honey. And then he pushed her back and began gently examining her for injury.
At least, she supposed that’s what he was doing. It was rather hard to think clearly with his hands methodically exploring her person.
Jasper, meanwhile, had got himself up from the floor. His hair was standing on end, which gave her normally dapper brother the appearance of an extremely large and disorderly rooster. “Your wife? Get your damned hands off her—that’s not your wife!”
“Lydia,” Arthur said in a low murmur, “is this fool someone you know, or should you prefer that I throw him out on his arse?”
“Ah,” Lydia said, “both?”
“Aye, all right, then,” Arthur said, and began stripping off his jacket.
“Try it,” snapped Jasper, “just try it, you Scottish oaf, and we’ll see how far height gets you when you’ve not the brains to back it up.”
“’Tis not the height,” said Arthur, and he reached out and caught Jasper’s cravat, pushing him into the wall and holding him there by the throat. Jasper’s toes just barely touched the ground. “’Tis the reach that matters.”
Lydia stared, agape, at the sight of Arthur holding her brother against the wall like a rather forlorn quilt. She had been witness to a great deal—a very great deal—of male tussling in a house with four older brothers, but it had been a long time since she’d seen anyone get the best of Jasper. It had been years since she’d even seen anyonetry.
Jasper’s fair skin had begun to fade into a whitish-purple before it dawned on her that some action was required on her part.
She leapt forward and grabbed Arthur’s arm. DearLord, the man had biceps muscles that could break—she did not know what. Things that were difficult to break. Stones. Bricks. Mid-sized country mansions.
“Best let him go,” she said to Arthur, tugging at the immovable fixture that had once been living flesh. “That’s my brother Jasper, and I’d hate to have to explain his demise to our mother.”
Arthur dropped Jasper, who slid slowly down to sit upon the floor.
“Your brother?” Arthur was looking in bafflement from her to Jasper and back again. “Did I not hear Lord de Younge introduce him as Mr. Eagermont?”
Lydia nodded, then reconsidered and shook her head. “I cannot explain it.”
“DidInot hear,” Jasper rasped from the floor, “Lord de Younge introduceyouas Lady Strathrannoch?”
Lydia looked at Arthur. He gazed back impassively, and then raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to say,By all means, explain that one.
And then Lydia made a very rash decision in a series of very rash decisions, the sum of which had landed her in Scotland, investigating a missing weapons thief with her fake husband.
She lied.
“Yes,” she said, “I am Lady Strathrannoch. I left from Selina’s country house in Sussex and came to Scotland in order to elope with the Earl of Strathrannoch.”
