pounds.”
His words were deliberate. By telling Freddy bluntly that he knew where things stood between him and Reese—not to mention between him and Lenore—he was laying all of his cards on the table and identifying himself as an ally.
Freddy knew it too. He arched one eyebrow slightly, then took a breath and went on as though the exchange had never happened. “You’ve come to ask Lenore to marry you. At least, that’s what I wagered would be your reason for darkening our doorstep this morning.”
Odd prickles raced down Phin’s back. “You’re correct,” he said with a nod of concession.
Freddy’s grin widened. “Reese and I decided to wait up for Lenore last night so that we could play the role of disapproving fathers and tease her into oblivion for returning so late.” His eyes danced with mischief as he recounted the story. Phin liked him more than ever. “We were handsomely rewarded for our efforts too. She came back looking thoroughly debauched and stammered her way through half a dozen pitiful lies by way of explanation before wriggling away from us and going to bed. Well done, sir.”
It was absolutely ludicrous, but Phin found himself grinning proudly and bowing, one man acknowledging the praise of another for seducing his fiancée. “I have never had any complaints,” he said as he rose.
“No, and nor do I think Lenore will have once she accepts your suit,” Freddy laughed. “I haven’t seen her look that pleased with herself since meeting her, and that’s saying something.”
Phin found the compliment strangely encouraging, even though the conversation he was having ranked among the most bizarre he had ever had or likely ever would have. One simply didn’t inform a woman’s fiancé he intended to marry her. “If that’s the case,” he said, wincing slightly, “and assuming Lenore agrees, how would you like to proceed?”
Freddy shrugged. “Carefully. More reputations than just ours are at stake in this game, of course.”
Phin nodded, understanding. With the entire picture clear in his mind now, it was obvious that Freddy and Lenore’s engagement was purposefully intended to deflect suspicion away from Freddy’s relationship with Reese. Which meant that in order for that suspicion to continue to be deflected, an ironclad story would need to be concocted about why Lenore threw Freddy, an earl, over for the son of a mere baronet.
“Perhaps I should sort things out with Lenore first,” Phin said. “She’s enough of a minx to come up with the perfect explanation for the mad business.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Freddy said, just as the baby decided, for no apparent reason at all, to cry. “Rose, darling, I swear to you, your good name will not be sullied as the silly adults play their silly games,” he told her.
Phin couldn’t help but smile as baby Rose fussed even more. “I’ll leave you to your company, if you don’t mind,” he said stepping sideways and heading toward the hall. “I’m off to Trafalgar Square to ask an engaged woman to throw over her fiancé for me.”
Freddy laughed, but he wasn’t capable of much more of a goodbye, as Rose needed his full attention. Phin saluted him one last time, then hurried out to the hall. As soon as the butler showed him to the door, he turned his steps toward Trafalgar Square, feeling strangely uplifted by the odd conversation he’d just had. Life was as twisted as a maze, and anyone who didn’t explore it thoroughly was missing out on some of the finer things it had to offer. He pitied the proper men and women he passed in the street on his way to Trafalgar Square. Their lives might have been the sort of thing that earned them praise on a Sunday or that fell in line with what all of the moralizing pamphleteers wrote about, but he doubted they were anywhere near as fun.
Trafalgar Square was a mash of people from all walks of life, as it usually was, as Phin joined the throng. Street performers mingled with ladies and gentlemen in the latest fashions from the continent. Men and women with every color of skin and dressed in the style of every imaginable nation blended in with working-class folk selling everything from souvenir post cards to roasted nuts. A Salvation Army band made an ungodly racket near the steps of St. Martin in the Fields while at least three other speakers commanded the attention of miniature crowds spread out in front of the National Gallery. And there, in the midst