The Duke Heist (The Wild Wynchesters #1) - Erica Ridley Page 0,107

and reproducing uncanny imitations of other siblings’ voices, both male and female. Occasionally a rousing chorus would come not from Elizabeth’s mouth but rather from one of Jacob’s ferrets or a clump of Marjorie’s grapes.

Tommy perched on the edge of a striped armchair, decked out in something she referred to as Early Yorkshire Governess. Every now and then she would say a phrase and Elizabeth would correct the accent until Tommy tired of repeating, “And now on to lesson two, if you please, children,” and would dash off only to return in another costume entirely. So far tonight, she had also been a sailor, a dockworker, and a fishwife—“fish spinster,” according to Chloe.

Lawrence supposed the Wynchesters must have a thousand such private jests. He couldn’t wait to learn them all.

Jacob had offered to loan him a wooden hoop and a spare ferret, but Lawrence had courteously declined. He had no idea what to do with a circus-trained weasel, but he did know what he wanted to do with Chloe: hold her close for the rest of their lives.

It was likely the only thing they would ever be able to do. Lawrence did not have the funds to shower her with the expensive jewels and exotic holidays that he wished he could give her.

He kissed the top of her head.

She tilted her face up toward him with a smile. “How am I so lucky to win the handsome prince?”

“I’m the fortunate one,” he reminded her. “You’re the one saddled with an extraordinarily dashing prince with appallingly light pockets. I might not be able to offer the life you deserve, but I can promise one thing: we might be poor, but we’ll be happy.”

Graham glanced up from his newspapers.

Tommy cleared her throat.

Elizabeth stopped playing the pianoforte.

One of Jacob’s ferrets escaped its rolled-cotton fence.

“Er…” Chloe set down her book and sat upright to face Lawrence. “How is it possible that you have not fully comprehended just how wealthy Bean was?”

Lawrence frowned. “The baron was wealthy. That doesn’t mean you are. He didn’t even provide you a dowry. You said so yourself.”

“Can I tell him?” Tommy begged.

Graham shrugged. “He’s a Wynchester now. Why not?”

Lawrence’s chest thudded at the words. “I’m…an honorary Wynchester?”

“Not honorary,” Jacob corrected. “You’re a full-blood Wynchester.”

Elizabeth tapped Lawrence’s foot with her cane. “As long as we accept you, the sole requirement to be a Wynchester is to want to be with all your heart.”

“I want that almost more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he admitted, pulse racing. Did they really…? Was he really…? “Is there some sort of ceremony?”

Chloe’s eyes laughed up at him. “We already decided to include you. Just accept.”

“I accept!” His spirits soared. He’d wished to belong to her for so long, it didn’t yet seem real. “But your face earlier…is there something else you’re not telling me?”

“Well…” She bit her lip.

“Chloe has twelve thousand pounds,” Tommy blurted in a passable Yorkshire accent.

Lawrence could not parse the syllables. “She has what?”

“Well, it’s more than that by now.” Chloe plucked at a hem. “My bequest was twelve thousand, but Bean had given me a substantial sum when I first became a Wynchester. What I haven’t spent on fashion, I invested in the five percents. It keeps growing.”

“Why did you spend any of it on fripperies?” Elizabeth scolded her. “You know Bean wanted you to save your coin and use the family money for—”

“You have thousands of pounds and family money lying about?” Lawrence gaped at Chloe.

“We all do,” Tommy put in with a shrug.

“Not the house,” Elizabeth explained. “The gossips are right about the property belonging to the new baron.”

Graham rustled his broadsheets. “We must console ourselves with our ‘pittance,’ as the papers say.”

“‘Pittance’?” The word wheezed out of Lawrence’s throat.

With twelve thousand pounds, they could pay debts, make conservative investments—like with Lord Southerby—and save most of the rest. He and Chloe might not be able to build palaces to rival Carlton House, but they and the entailed estate would be fine.

It was more than he had dreamed.

Tommy bounced on her chair, governess persona forgotten. “Can we give him our wedding gift?”

“We’re not married yet,” Chloe pointed out. “The three weeks of banns haven’t been read.”

“It sounds as though we can afford a license to skip that step,” Lawrence said weakly.

“Come.” Elizabeth tapped the floor with her sword stick. “Follow me.”

The siblings fell into step behind her like a well-practiced parade.

When they headed for the stairs, Lawrence narrowed his eyes at the next landing. “Is it art supplies? Has