True enough. Cal would have to marry and beget an heir too, one day.
But not yet. Not for a long time yet. When he was at least thirty-five or more.
He let himself into Aunt Dottie’s house with the front door key and found a small candle lantern burning softly, waiting for him to light his way upstairs. As he passed the girls’ bedchamber he heard a whine and a scratch at the door. The dog, wanting to relieve itself, no doubt.
Cal opened the door, holding it wide to let the dog pass. He glanced inside and stiffened. The bed nearest the door was unoccupied. He leaned inside the room and held the lantern higher.
Every bed empty, damn them.
He took the dog outside for the call of nature, returned him to the bedchamber, then settled down in the kitchen to wait.
He was angry and disappointed—with himself as much as anyone. He’d imagined he’d been making progress with the girls, but clearly they were determined to go their own way, no matter what. So they were disappointed with his refusal to escort them to the night fair. Life was full of disappointments.
An hour later, he heard the sound of soft laughter and the key turning in the kitchen door. The door opened and two young men swaggered in, complete to a shade: coat, hat, breeches, boots and each carrying a cane. They were followed by Lily, wrapped warmly in a cloak.
Cal rose from his seat at the table. “Make sure you bolt the blasted door, or I’ll have a reason to sack that butler my aunt is so fond of.”
The two “young men” jumped, then turned to face him with expressions of varying defiance. Georgiana looked wary, Rose was trying to appear unconcerned but looked a little shamefaced and Lily looked frankly upset. “It’s not Logan’s fault—” she began, but Cal cut her off with a sharp gesture.
“I know damned well whose fault it is.” He turned the lantern up, the better to see their faces. “Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?” He waited. “Word of a Rutherford, you said when you promised me not to go out unescorted at night.”
“Promises made under duress don’t count,” Rose said. “Besides,youpromised to take us somewhere exciting when you returned, and you didn’t. In any case, we did have an escort. George escorted us—and we both dressed like men, so nobody could tell—”
He smashed his fist on the table, making them all jump. “George is notanykind of escort and you know it, and if you think you look like a man you’re very much mistaken.” He glanced at George. “I should have burned those damned breeches.”
“You can’t, they belong to me!” she flashed.
“I’m the head of your family and your legal guardian. I can do whatever the hell I want!”
“There’s no need to swear at us,” Rose muttered. “I don’tknow why you’re making such a fuss. There were no consequences. Nobody noticed us and nothing happened, so don’t say such things. You’re frightening Lily.” Rose put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and squeezed, but Cal was wise to her tricks this time.
“Don’t you dare try those crocodile tears on me again,” he snapped.
Lily stopped on a hiccup, her big gray eyes still swimming with unshed tears. He looked away. Even though he knew she could produce them at will, her tears still had the power to stir him up inside.
“I’m sorry, Cal,” she said, sounding truly penitent. She added in a hesitant tone, “I brought you something from the fair.” From her reticule she pulled a toffee apple on a stick and held it out to him.
Cal made no move to take it. Lily put it on the table in front of him.
There was a long silence. “I ought to beat you all!” he said eventually.
“You wouldn’t dare.” George braced herself, pale but defiant.
“I’ve had men in the army flogged insensible,” he informed her coldly. “A good beating might wake you little hellions up to the consequences of your actions.”
“You just try it and I—I’ll run away,” George said. “You know I can.”
“Don’t worry, George,” Lily said softly. “Of course Cal won’t beat us.”
“How do you know I won’t?” Cal growled. Did she think a toffee apple could change his mind?
Lily gave him a tremulous smile. “Because you gave me piggyback rides when I was seven.”
“What?”The logic of that escaped him completely.
“Yes, and because the first time he caught us coming in at night, he was absolutely furious, but the minute Lily started crying, he fell completely apart, didn’t he, Lil?” Rose said. “He went from being all cold and mean and nasty to being all worried and gruff. It was really rather sweet.”
Cal stared at her, dumbfounded.Sweet?Rathersweet?Ye gods! “Oh, just go.” He shoved the lantern—still burning, but not for much longer—across the table toward them. “Get up to bed—and don’t wake your aunt. I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Not another word, Rose,” he said as she opened her mouth to argue. “One word out ofanyof you and you’llallbe on bread and water for a week. Stale bread and no butter! Now go!”
