Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,205

in a week.

Just look at the last one.

“Shall we return to the dining room?” Anthony queried. “I imagine you’re hungry, and if we tarry much longer, Colin is sure to have eaten our host out of house and home.”

Eloise nodded. “Either that, or they’ve all killed him by now.”

Anthony paused to consider that. “It would save me the expense of a wedding.”

“Anthony!”

“It’s a joke, Eloise,” he said, giving his head a weary shake. “Come along, now. Let’s make sure your Sir Phillip still resides among the ranks of the living.”

“And then,” Benedict was saying as Anthony and Eloise reentered the dining room, “the tavern wench arrived and she had the biggest—”

“Benedict!” Eloise exclaimed.

Benedict looked over at his sister with a supremely guilty expression, yanked back his hands, which were demonstrating the size of what was clearly an impossibly endowed female, and muttered, “Sorry.”

“You’re married,” Eloise scolded.

“But not blind,” Colin said with a grin.

“You’re married, too!” she accused.

“But not blind,” he said again.

“Eloise,” Gregory said with what was quite possibly the most annoying use of condescension she’d ever had cause to hear, “there are some things that are impossible not to see. Especially,” he added, “when you’re a man.”

“It’s true,” admitted Anthony. “I saw it myself.”

Eloise gasped as she looked from brother to brother, looking for some sane spot in this cesspool of madness. Her eyes fell on Phillip, who, by the looks of him, not to mention his slightly inebriated state, had formed a lifelong bond with her brothers during the short time she’d been closeted away with Anthony.

“Sir Phillip?” she asked, waiting for him to say something acceptable.

But he just offered her a loopy grin. “I know who they’re talking about,” he said. “Been to that inn any number of times. Lucy’s quite famous in these parts.”

“Even I’ve heard of her,” Benedict said, with a knowing nod. “I’m only an hour away on horseback. Less, if you push hard.”

Gregory leaned toward Phillip, his blue eyes gleaming with interest as he asked, “So, did you? Ever?”

“Gregory!” Eloise practically yelled. This was really too much. Her brothers should never have been talking about such things in front of her, but even more, the last thing she wanted to know was whether Sir Phillip had tupped a tavern wench with bosoms the size of soup tureens.

But Phillip just shook his head. “She’s married,” he said. “As was I.”

Anthony turned to Eloise and whispered in her ear, “He’ll do.”

“I’m glad you have such high standards for your beloved sister,” she muttered.

“I told you,” Anthony remarked, “I’ve seen Lucy. This is a man with restraint.”

She planted her hands on her hips and looked her older brother squarely in the eye. “Were you tempted?”

“Of course not! Kate would slit my throat.”

“I’m not talking about what Kate would do to you if you strayed, although I’m of the opinion that she would not start at your throat—”

Anthony winced. He knew it was true.

“—I want to know if you were tempted.”

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But don’t tell anyone. I used to be considered something of a rake, after all. Wouldn’t want people to think I was completely tamed.”

“You’re appalling.”

He grinned. “And yet, my wife still loves me to distraction, which is all that really matters, isn’t it?”

Eloise supposed he was right. She sighed. “What are we going to do about them?” She motioned to the quartet of men sitting around the dining room table, which was littered with empty dishes. Phillip, Benedict, and Gregory were sitting back and relaxing, looking quite sated. Colin was still eating.

Anthony shrugged. “I don’t know what you want to do, but I’m going to join them.”

Eloise just stood in the doorway, watching as he sat down and poured himself a glass of wine. The conversation had thankfully moved on from Lucy and her tremendous bosoms, and now they were talking about boxing. Or at least that’s what she assumed they were talking about. Phillip was demonstrating some sort of hand maneuver to Gregory.

Then he punched him in the face.

“So sorry,” Phillip said, patting Gregory on the back. But Eloise noticed that the right corner of his mouth was curving ever so slightly into a smile. “Won’t hurt for long, I’m sure. My chin’s feeling better already.”

Gregory grunted something that was clearly meant to mean that it didn’t hurt, but he rubbed his chin nonetheless.

“Sir Phillip?” Eloise said loudly. “Might I have a word?”

“Of course,” he said, standing up immediately, although in all truth, all of the men should have been