leaving the house without two footmen, a maid, and a tyrant—oh, forgive me, I meant my companion.”
“Mrs. Secomb is not a tyrant. She is an intelligent, sensible woman,” Gabe said. “We wanted your time in London to run smoothly and felt support from an older woman would help you achieve that.”
“She is a bloody tyrant!” Abby felt the grip she’d had on her temper slip. She was, after all, a Deville, and there was some of her brothers in her.
“Don’t use words like that, sister,” Nathan said.
“You all use words like that constantly; why can I not do the same?” She sent a glare to all four of them.
“We are men, it is—”
Abby raised a hand. “It would be better for you if you do not complete that sentence, Nathan.”
“Father tasked us with caring for you, Abigail—”
“And this is your idea of ‘caring,’ is it?” She cut him off. “Keeping me in a cage? I am twenty-three years old, positively ancient for a debutante, and yet I still have a bloody companion, and not just any companion. Mrs. Secomb, also known as Mrs. Sour Puss!”
“Don’t swear,” Gabe said, his brows now in a line. “And Mrs. Secomb came highly recommended to us.”
“By who? Newgate Prison?”
“Several whos, actually. Their names escape me at this present time. And don’t be flippant.”
“If only you would let me have Dimity as my companion—”
“She is your piano teacher, and even in that I am unsure she is a wise choice,” Gabe muttered. “The woman has perfected insolence with just a look. Zach is right, she is trouble, and not a good influence on you.”
“She is my only friend and understands me,” Abby said slowly.
“We are your friends,” Michael said. “And want only the best for you as we love you.”
“As I love you,” Abby ground out. But, you are my brothers. I cannot talk about hair ribbons and the latest fashion with any of you. You have your lives and I have mine… which is spent inside these walls or being escorted about the place with an army of servants watching my every move. I sometimes feel like I can’t breathe.”
“Oh, yes, your life is horrible after all,” Zach drawled. “Pretty clothes, a lovely home with plenty of food, and let’s not forget all the society events you frequent. And on the matter of hair ribbons, I told you the pink hair band was nicer than the blue just last week.”
She wanted to reach over the table and smack that smug look from his face with the spoon she held. Instead, she opened her hand and lowered it slowly to the table.
“The best day will be when she marries,” Zach muttered.
That hurt. She’d never given them any trouble. Yes, they argued, and yes, she did not take all their dictates with a docile smile, but for the most she did as they asked of her, and they had a great deal of fun together. But lately even that had lessened.
“Her husband can put up with her tantrums.”
Abby bit the inside of her cheek to stop from shrieking. That would get her nowhere with these four. They were immovable in their belief that they needed to watch over her… extremely closely. Yelling would only have them declaring she was a hysterical woman.
“And how, Zachriel, is that supposed to happen when every man I dance or speak with, you intimidate?”
Their mother had thought the surname Deville hard for any child to handle, so had named her sons after angels. Hilarious really, as they were the least angelic men in existence.
“We do not intimidate—”
“You told Mr. Capon that if he so much as looked my way again, you’d ensure he’d walk with a limp!”
“Abby, we know what men are like, so you have to trust us to look after you. Capon is a blithering idiot,” Michael added. “As many of the men in society are.”
“I wouldn’t know, I never get to speak to them.”
“Oh now, that’s an over exaggeration,” Zach said with his mouth full of food.
“For God’s sake, swallow before you speak!” Gabe bellowed. “You have the manners of a barnyard animal.”
Abby smiled at her youngest brother in that way a younger sibling did when they were enjoying seeing another in trouble.
“And what of Sir Christopher? He actually whimpered when you surrounded him to discuss his intentions toward me. I danced with him twice!”
“He is a blithering idiot,” Nathan muttered. “I will have no future niece or nephew of mine hampered with such an imbecile for a