The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)(43)

Sesily gave a little squeal of glee. “The American is coming!”

Sera slid a look to Haven, only to discover he was glaring at her, without even an attempt at subtlety.

“I’m afraid not for long, sweetheart.” Caleb swept the hat from his head and bowed low with a grand flourish. “What a beautiful group of ladies. I’m not sure I could pick the prettiest among you.” He looked up at Sera, eyes twinkling even as one of them was shining black and nearly swollen shut, and said, “Well, besides Duchess, of course.”

She raised a brow.

This was not going to make things easier.





Chapter 13



Sparrow Flies the Coop!



“If you’ll excuse us for just a moment?” Sera said too brightly before opening the nearest door and pushing Caleb into one of Highley’s numerous receiving rooms.

Murmurs of “This is all highly irregular,” and “Who is that man?” mingled with her sisters’ attempts to herd the entire group to their respective chambers.

Sophie’s voice came above the rest. “Surely you all would like a moment to freshen up after your early travels.”

“I don’t wish to freshen up!” one of the mothers replied with affront. “Your Grace! I will not have my daughter so poorly influenced by your . . . wife!”

“Ugh,” said Sesily from closer range than Sera would have expected. “Can we eliminate the Mayhew chit from competition as soon as possible? Her mother does grate.”

Sera spun to face her sister. “Sesily!”

“What?” Sesily feigned innocence. “I thought you might need a chaperone.” Applying her prettiest flirt, she switched her attention to Caleb. “One never knows with Americans.”

Caleb sent her an appreciative look. “If one is lucky.”

Sera huffed her displeasure. “Both of you are insufferable.” She whirled on her friend. “What in hell are you doing here? And what in hell has happened to your face?”

“You should see the other men.” Caleb smirked, then winced as the expression tugged at his lip. “Ow.”

“That serves you right for thinking you could charm your way out of this,” she replied, the words without sting. “What happened?” she repeated, lifting her hand to her friend’s strong, swollen cheek, delicately feeling about his eye.

He inhaled sharply at the touch. “You can’t come back. Not right now.”

Sesily gasped. “You planned to sneak off to London? How exciting!”

Sera looked to the ceiling and asked her maker for patience. She’d planned for a clandestine night or two, just to check in on the Sparrow. “It’s not exciting, Sesily. It’s business.”

“You say that like it doesn’t sound exciting as well,” Sesily replied. “Which it does. It’s not every day a woman has a—”

“Stop.” Both Caleb and Sera cut Sesily off before she could say tavern, Sera looking to the door to be certain no one was close enough to hear. Malcolm was in the foyer beyond, and he met her gaze, but the fury in his eyes likely had more to do with the clamoring gaggle of mothers objecting to the entire morning, and no doubt a great deal more. Like Sera, in general.

He hadn’t heard, which was all that mattered. If he knew what she had, he would have altogether too much power over her.

As though he did not have enough of it as her husband.

“The point is,” Caleb went on, “you must stay here.”

She blinked. “Why?”

Sesily knew when she was not required. “I shall go fetch something for the American’s eye.”

“I’ve a name, you know.”

Sesily winked. “But ‘the American’ sounds so much more ominous, don’t you think?”

“Go,” Sera said.

Sesily did and Caleb said, “That one is trouble.”

“I shall be far more trouble if you don’t tell me what is going on.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“If only men understood the rampant fear that particular quartet of words instilled in women’s hearts.” She whacked him in the arm. “Tell me.”

“Oof!” he groaned, clutching his shoulder and going pale.

“Now she’s hit him!” came a pearl-clutching gasp from the hallway beyond. “You must send her away, Your Grace. This is no place for a proper young lady!”

Sera ignored the words, overcome with concern for her friend. “Caleb. What’s happened to you?”

“It’s fine. It was a touch dislocated, but I found a decent butcher who put it back in. It’s just a bit tweaky right now.”

Her brows shot up. “Who dislocated you?”

“The Bastards.”

The Bareknuckle Bastards, the pair of brothers who ran the Covent Garden underground. Until now, they’d left Caleb and Sera alone, but it hadn’t been long since the Sparrow was up and running, and Caleb and Sera had expected their success would soon be noticed—and the Bastards wouldn’t like it. “Did something happen to the Sparrow?”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed in a day or two.” She did not like the sound of that. “They wanted a trade. Money for protection. I told them I didn’t need protection from a bunch of redcoats.”