“Let me in,” came a voice. A male voice. Julia scowled.

  “He has been banging away for a good half an hour,” whispered Catherine. “He will not go away.”

  “Perhaps we should just see who it is,” Emma suggested.

  “And let them enter and murder us all?” Catherine exclaimed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you not a master of fighting?” Julia asked, wryly. “You can defend us all.”

  Catherine lifted her chin. “I can if I know who my enemy is.”

  “Bloody let me in,” came the voice. “Guy, doggammit.” The words were slurred and mixed.

  Julia shook her head. “I think I know who it is. He sounds drunk.”

  “If only your father were here.” Mama clutched her robe about herself. “He would send him on his way.”

  “Papa would likely sleep through it all,” Julia pointed out. “Let’s open the door and let him in. I think it’s Lord Weston’s brother. He’s only a young man. What harm can he do?”

  Emma paused to listen to the stranger’s complaints. “I think you are right. We had better let him in.”

  Their mother nodded frantically. “Goodness, yes. We cannot leave a duke’s brother outside to die in a drunken stupor. We would never hear the end of it. It would be a worse scandal than Cousin Bess’ hasty marriage.”

  “I do not think Lord Weston would blame us,” Catherine said. “I heard he is trying to get his brother’s behavior back on track.”

  “A fine job he’s doing of it,” muttered Julia.

  “You can hardly blame him.” Catherine jumped as Stephen hammered the door again. “How many times did Amelia try to get us to behave and fail? One cannot govern a grown man or woman no matter how much one would like to.”

  Mama nodded. “I know it well. Now get this door open and be prepared. Who knows what he might do? Catherine, do stand back. You are too small. He will mow you down if you are not careful.”

  “I will knock him out if I must.” Catherine lifted her fists.

  “You will not!” Mama pushed her fists down. “Imagine the scandal.”

  Julia sighed and pushed to the front of the group. Hand to the latch, she glanced at her family. “Ready?”

  They all nodded and huddled closer together. On the next thud of a fist, Julia hauled open the door. Stephen peered at her and swayed forward. “About damn time.”

  He fell heavily into her arms, knocking her backward into Emma. Were it not for Emma and Catherine’s quick reactions of supporting her and snatching Stephen’s arm, she would have crumbled to the floor under his weight. Stephen might be a few years younger than her but he was certainly a grown man in size.

  “Let us get him down somewhere.” Julia tried to twist with him in her arms but his knees gave way and he began sinking to the floor, taking her with him. “Goodness, he’s heavy,” she groaned.

  “I can’t hold him!” Catherine warned.

  “Uh oh,” said Julia.

  Stephen’s legs went out from underneath him and he slid down Julia’s body slowly. She tried to cushion the fall as best as she could, moving down with him until his face ended up in her lap. She looked up at her sisters and mother who stared down at her, their faces lit by the lone candle that her mother held aloft.

  “Goodness,” said her mother.

  “No one mentions this.” Julia thrust a finger at them. “No one.”

  They all shook their heads and crossed their hearts. Her mother muttered something about wishing she could have a normal life as she went off to light the candles and lamps. Julia pushed Stephen’s head off her lap and it made a dull thud against the wooden floor. Thank goodness they had no live-in servants or this whole scene would be gossip for the village tomorrow.

  “Help me up.” Julia held up her hands and Emma and Catherine dragged her to her feet. “We will have to drag him.”

  “I cannot believe he did not wake up after all that.” Emma nudged him with a foot. “He must be truly inebriated.”

  Julia could not help wonder where he had learned such behavior. It had been clear on their few meetings that he was disinterested in country life but to get so drunk that he could not even remember where his house was, was unthinkable. Was he mimicking his brother’s behavior? Or was Catherine right, and Guy was trying to help him? She wished she knew.

  “We shall have to drag him,” Emma concluded.

  Julia nodded. “You grab one arm, I’ll grab the other. Catherine, can you clear a path to the chaise? We will put him there.”

  Catherine scurried off while they grabbed an arm each. With a grunt, they began to move him though it was slow going.

  “Why is he so heavy?” Emma said through gritted teeth.

  “The drink does it.” Julia shook her head. “He’s going to be sore all over in the morning.”

  “Do you think he will be missed? Will Lord Weston be looking for him?”

  “Perhaps.” Julia eyed the sorry mess that was Guy’s brother. “I shall go and tell him.”

  “No,” Emma said when they paused to take a breath. “It is too dark. Mama will have a fit.”

  “Any more than she already is, having a drunken duke’s brother in her house?”

  Their mother could be heard in the parlor, fussing at Catherine. “Get some blankets. Oh dear Lord, what if he is sick? What if he dies? We shall never live it down if he dies in this house. Lord Weston will not forgive us.”

  “Once we have him settled, I’ll ride over. I can get there in half an hour if I hurry.”

  “If you do not hurt yourself or get attacked,” Emma added.

  “I will be fine, and Mama won’t notice I am gone. Not with Stephen to fuss over.”

  “If you die, do not say I did not warn you.” Emma pointed a finger at her.

  “If I die, I won’t be able to.” Julia nodded at Stephen. “Come on, only a few more tugs and we can get him laid down.”

  They dragged him the rest of the way to the chaise and Catherine helped them haul him up onto it while their mother clucked at them that they were doing it all wrong. Stephen did not stir once as the women fussed about them.

  Catherine poked him. “Is he alive?”

  “Oh dear lord,” their mother cried out.

  “He’s alive.” Julia pressed a finger to his neck. “I can see him breathing and I can feel a steady pulse. He’s just extremely inebriated.” She looked at Emma. “Why do you not get Mama back to bed or sat down in the second parlor? She looks a little faint.”

  “I do?” Mama asked and put her hand to her head. “Oh yes, I do feel a little faint actually. I shall go to bed, but if he awakens, you must come and get me.”

  “Of course, Mama.” Julia waited until her mother and Emma had gone before turning to Catherine. “I am going to hurry to Guy’s. He should know that his brother is safe.”

  A smile slid across Catherine’s face. “Oh really? Guy should know, should he? I imagine you do not want him worrying. Perhaps you do not hate him quite as much as you thought.”

  Julia ignored her sister. She did not have time for her teasing. Guy could be out searching for his brother at this very moment. She dashed into the hallway and slipped on her boots before throwing a pelisse over her nightgown.

  “I will be back within an hour or so,” she told Catherine. “With or without Lord Weston. If Stephen awakens, try to get him to drink some coffee.”

  “Be safe, Julia. Amelia will never forgive us if we let something happen to you.”

  “I’ll be fine. You are not the only one who can fight, you know?” Julia winked at her sister.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Guy had made it downstairs and into the hallway, there was a crowd of servants about, all dressed no better than he in their night clothes. It seemed he was not the only one to be awoken by the bell being pulled incessantly. Lord, if it was Stephen pissing about, he was going to tan his hide. He didn’t care that his brother was a supposedly grown man.

  “Oh, Your Grace,” the housekeeper declared upon spotting him. She moved back and the servants followed suit, parting the way so he could get to the door.

  “Has no one answered it yet?”

  The butler shook his head. “We were deciding whether to wake you or not, Your Grace.”

  “What the devil is all the noise?” Morgan drew Guy’s attention for the moment as he entered the hallway, in no better state than the rest of them.

  “We do not know yet. Apparently, everyone has forgotten how to open doors,” Guy said dryly.

  “Get on with it then. I need my bed. Far too many brandies tonight, Guy.”

  Guy nodded. They had enjoyed several brandies together as they mused over the state of the world and talked a little of a certain redhead. His mouth was dry and he needed a good few more hours sleep before being awake. Whoever it was would be sent soundly on their way so they could all get back to sleep.

  He hauled open the door, aware of the servants trying to peer around him.

  “About time!”

  A vision in white glared at him. He blinked and mentally counted how many brandies he’d drunk. Four was it not? Maybe five. Not enough to make him see things, surely?

  Well, this was not a thing anyway. This was a person. One with wild red hair that looked as though it had been blown about in a tempest. Her glasses were sliding down her nose and that lock of hair swung in front of them. Julia folded her arms underneath her breasts, drawing his attention downward.

  A nightgown. An open pelisse. Not a lot else. What in God’s name was Julia Chadwick doing on his doorstep at nearly midnight in her nightwear. He peered behind him at the gawping servants.

  “To bed,” he ordered. “Everyone to bed.”

  There was no chance he was having the young footmen staring at her in next-to-nothing. Lord only knew what he was going to say to them to ensure no gossip followed. He’d have to threaten a few jobs if this got out, he reckoned.

  A few grumbled when they turned away and headed to bed, either annoyed at missing whatever drama was to follow or in the young men’s eyes, probably upset they did not get a good look at the pretty woman in her nightclothes.

  Morgan hung back. “Do you need me?” He glanced around the door. “Probably not. I’m going to sleep off this devil of a headache. A pleasure to see you again, Miss Chadwick. A pleasure indeed.” He winked at Guy and headed back upstairs.

  Once the hallway was cleared, he eased open the door and motioned her in. “Come in before you catch a chill.”

  “Actually, I am quite warm.” She blew a breath upwards as if to demonstrate just how hot she was and it sent that naughty curl bouncing on her forehead. “I had to rush over. I came on horseback.” He looked around her to see a horse munching nonchalantly on the front lawns.

  “Without a saddle?” He frowned. “What’s going on, Julia? Is one of your sisters hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I guess you did not realize he was missing then.”

  “Missing?” He groaned as realization hit. “Stephen. What the bloody hell has he done now?”

  If his coarse language surprised or bothered her, she did not show it.

  “I believe he mistook our house for yours. Not sure how. It’s a minor miracle he did not fall in the moat in the state he is in. He is currently passed out in our parlor.”

  “Christ.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me a moment. I’ll return home with you.” He had already slipped on breeches and was wearing a nightshirt, so all he needed to do was snatch up a jacket and put on boots. He dressed in about the quickest time he ever had done and joined Julia outside. He found her already upon her horse, both legs on either side of the animal. Her black boots covered her ankles but in the light of the half moon, he was given a fine view of slender calves.

  “There was no time for saddles or propriety,” she said, tossing her head up.

  “I see.” He could not help but grin. What a woman she was. “I’ll be but a moment. Please do not go racing off without me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  Guy followed her suit and ignored a saddle. There was no chance he was waking a stable hand so he could gawp at Julia and he could ride well enough without one.

  “Does your mother know you left? Could you not have sent a servant?”

  “Our servants do not live in. And no, my mother does not know. So we had better hurry had we not?”

  She gave him a grin that sent a bolt of desire straight through him. Julia set the pace to blistering, moving across the land in a way that only someone who knew it intimately would. Were it not for the fact he had to go apologize to Mrs. Chadwick and her daughters and figure out what on earth he should do with Stephen, he’d enjoy watching her hair billowing out behind her and the confident way she handled the horse.

  When they arrived at the house, his shirt had begun to stick to his back. The evenings were clinging to the heat from the day and such a vigorous ride had him dragging in deep breaths.

  “Let us quickly stable and water the horses. They’ve earned it,” she suggested. “I am sure your brother is likely still passed out.”

  He followed her around to the stables and helped get the horses comfortable and watered. “You act as though it is every day that a young man turns up drunk on your doorstep and you are forced to ride out every night?” he commented as she gave the gelding a pat and put down the empty water bucket.

  “You know full well I am often out at night. It gives me an opportunity to see those animals that do not come out in the day.”

  “That is a little different to galloping across the countryside.”

  “Do you want to see your brother or do you wish to scold me?”

  He gave a grudging smile. Part of him wanted to scold her horribly. Put her across his damned knee if he had to. If her mother would not look after her, then someone had to, surely? Yet the confidence with which she had ridden told him he would be wasting his time. She was less likely to fall and hurt herself than he was.

  And, of course, she was right. He should be worrying about his brother, not her, but he knew what he would be confronted with. He had seen Stephen in this state too many times. He should have checked where he was before retreating to bed but he’d thought his brother was already in bed.

  “You had better take me to him then. Once I’ve dealt with him, I shall grovel to your mother.”

  Julia shook her head. “You had better not. She will have a fit that a duke has seen us all in our nightwear.”

  “Very well, I shall grovel tomorrow.”

  “If you can wake him up, I shall be impressed. We had to drag him into the parlor.” She opened the front door of the house and led the way through.

  “Now that would have been a sight to see.”

  “It did not seem that funny at the time but it does now.” She motioned through the doorway. “He is in here.”

  Guy grabbed her arm before she could step into the room. Her eyes were wide as she glanced from his hand to him.

  “I must thank you for the risk you took. And for looking after my brother. I know we have been at odds, so it must not have been easy for you.”

  “Have we been at odds?”

  He lifted a brow. “You have certainly been at odds with me.”

  “And you? What have you been? Because I have a sneaking suspicion you simply like to toy with me.”

  He shrugged. “I have little idea why you would think that.” He winked and stepped through into the parlor room. Stephen was laid out on a chaise, his cravat loose and his hair wild. Emma was dabbing his forehead while Catherine stood over him.

  “Oh good, you made it.” Catherine grinned at her sister. “He has not stirred though he said your name once or twice, Your Grace.”

  “I think in the circumstances you must call me Guy,” he said. He moved to his brother’s side and knelt. Lifting one lid, then the other, he shook his head. “I would love to say this is the first time I have seen him in such a state but it is not.” He looked to Julia. “Do you have a kitchen?”

  “Of course.”

  He cursed himself for foolish words. “What I mean, is do you know your way around it?”

  She frowned. “Mostly, yes.”

  “Good.” He stood. “If you would not mind showing me.”

  “Oh yes, you show him, Julia,” Catherine said. “We shall wait here and watch over Stephen.” Guy did not miss the sly grin that Catherine gave her sister.

  What had been said about him, he wondered. Apart from the usual vitriol about his arrogance and scandalous ways. It seemed to him that Catherine was rather in favor of him spending time alone with Julia and he could not disagree.

  Guy followed Julia down to the kitchen after she peeled off her pelisse and swapped it for a robe. She tied it in a little knot that he knew he could pull apart with just one tug. The mere thought niggled at his mind, so much so that he nearly forgot the reason he wanted the kitchen.

  Julia lit a few candles and propped her hands on her hips. “Here we are. What do you need?”

  “Coffee. Lots of coffee. Can you boil some water? Where are the herbs and spices?”

  She motioned to one of the cupboards and filled a kettle with water then set to work lighting a small fire in the grate. “Cook shall be annoyed when she finds everything out of place.”

  “I shall grovel at her feet too then.”

  Julia shook her head and laughed. “A duke groveling. Are you sure you know how to?”

  “Believe me, after all the trouble Stephen has caused, I am quite practiced at it.” He set to work heaping spices and herbs into a jug. He added a sprinkling of salt.

  “He does this a lot?”

  Guy nodded. “Unfortunately so.”

  “Wherever did he learn such behavior?” she asked, not-so-innocently.

  “Well, I am his only male role model.” He paused stirring the concoction together and motioned down himself. “Where do you think he learned it?”

  She peered at him for a moment, as though he were a new and intriguing creature she had never come across. Then she came to his side to look at the mixture. “That looks awful. what is it?”

  “My mother swears by it. My father was a bear after a heavy night of drinking and this always helped.” He turned his head in her direction. “It’s—”

 

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