“There is no way in bloody hell I’ll be teaching anyone about how society works,” the man cut in. “And yes, Mother, ‘bloody hell’ is definitely unacceptable language for society.”
“Or for anywhere,” Lady Gwyn chided her brother. “EvenIknow that.”
Thornstock shrugged. “All the more reason for Grey to take charge of this nonsense.”
Aunt Lydia sighed. “I shall leave it to you boys to sort things out as to who does what. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.” She looked at Beatrice. “That reminds me, my dear—youhavespoken to Joshua about approving our scheme, have you not?”
Caught off guard, Beatrice said, “Of course.”
Liar.She needed to do so, although she dreaded it, not knowing how he might react. Still, she would give him the rough side of her tongue if he refused to allow it. She might struggle not to speak her mind around other people, but she never fought her impulses around Joshua. If ever a man required frank speech, it was her brother.
Aunt Lydia smiled. “Because I wouldn’t wish to do anything without his say-so. We’re still mostly strangers to him, and I don’t want him thinking we’ve overstepped our bounds.”
“I understand,” Beatrice said.
Oh, yes, she understood only too well. Women never got to make these decisions for themselves. They were at the mercy of their brothers, fathers, and husbands.
It wasn’tfair. She and Lady Gwyn were certainly in agreement onthat.
Her aunt rose. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must return to the drawing room.”
The men stood, too, and Sheridan rounded the table to his mother’s side. “I’ll go with you.”
But before they could leave, Greycourt spoke to his mother. “Promise me you’ll get a good night’s sleep. Even if you’re not attending the funeral, tomorrow will be taxing, and you need your rest.”
“If you wish it, Grey.” Aunt Lydia gave him a melting smile. “Thank you for coming, my son.”
Some unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes. “Of course. Where else would I be?”
That broadened her smile.
“I’ll join you in a moment,” he added. “As soon as I finish dessert.”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” she said.
The moment Aunt Lydia and Sheridan left, Greycourt sat down to fix his gaze on Beatrice. “I have a favor to ask of you. I know your brother didn’t attend your other uncle’s funeral. So please make sure he attends my stepfather’s tomorrow.”
The urgency in his voice startled her. As did his use of the word “please.” “O-of course he will attend.”
“Good. Because it’s important that he do so.”
There was something he wasn’t saying. She desperately wished she knew what it was. But the twins were exchanging bewildered glances, and his enigmatic expression gave no indication of what it might be.
“I will do my best to make sure that Joshua shows up here promptly for the funeral procession,” Beatrice said.
“Excellent.” Grey finished his wine. “Thank you.”
Somehow that roused her suspicions even more. “May I askwhyit’s so important?”
He rubbed his finger along the rim of his glass. “Mother will be hurt if he doesn’t attend. And I don’t wish to add more sorrow to her present situation.”
Her heart twisted in her chest. “Of course not,” she said hastily. “Neither do I.”
Lord, she hoped that was Grey’s only motivation. The last thing she and Joshua needed was a duke breathing down their necks to learn all their secrets, a duke who clearly was very good at sifting out truth from lies.
She could only hope she was reading too much into his reactions. Otherwise, she and her brother were, at best, about to end up cast into the street, with no one around to help them.
And she’d do anything to prevent that.
