chestnut brow at him. “You say that, but we will need one that big if we’re to cart four children about.”
“What a marvelous idea,” Imogen said, her dark brown eyes lighting with inspiration. “A vehicle for an entire family. One would think those would be readily available.”
“I believe that’s called a caravan, darling,” Imogen’s husband, Sir Kenneth, said with a smile from beside her.
“Well, that’s the definition of such a thing, and it involves multiple vehicles. Perhaps someone should design a family-sized vehicle called a caravan, so the whole family could travel together,” Imogen suggested. She cocked her head to the side. “Whom do we know who could do that?” Glancing about the room as if she’d find such a person within their family, she settled her gaze on Harry. “Well, look who’s here.” Her lips spread in a wide grin.
Every head in the library turned toward Harry. His mother gasped.
“Harry!” She came forward, her arms outstretched so that she took his hands when she reached him. “You came!”
“I said I probably would.”
“You always say that.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were alight with pleasure. Letting go of one of his hands, she kept hold of the other and turned to face everyone. “Everyone is here—save the grandchildren, of course. How lovely.”
Harry’s middle sister, Rachel, narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you here? Is there an investigation afoot? Have Mama and Papa invited a criminal to the soiree?”
“Goodness, I hope not.” Harry’s mother sounded scandalized. She grimaced at Harry. “Is that why you’re here?”
“No, Mother.” He exhaled. “I finally come to a soiree, and everyone thinks I have an ulterior motive.”
Jeremy clapped his shoulder. “Because they know you.” He laughed. “Brandy?”
Harry nodded. A smile crept over his lips in spite of himself.
Their father walked to Harry with an approving look. “It’s good to see you here. I’m glad you came, whatever the reason.”
Harry knew the sentiment was genuine. “Since I asked you to add a pair of guests, I thought it only right I attend.”
“So you do have an ulterior motive,” Rachel said with a touch of triumph. Of his three younger sisters, she’d always teased him the most, and he expected nothing less since he’d been the one to teach her how to do it effectively.
“Not really. Mother and Father were delighted to welcome these guests as they are new to town. Since when is helping someone an ulterior motive?” Harry accepted the glass of brandy from his brother.
“And who are these guests?” Imogen asked.
Mother answered before Harry could. “Lady Gresham and her sister, Miss Beatrix Whitford.”
Jeremy stared at Harry. “They’re women? How on earth did you meet women who are new to town? They weren’t brought in front of the magistrate, were they?”
Several people in the library chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes. “No. I met Lady Gresham the other day. It’s a long story.”
“Please tell it,” Delia said with an eager smile.
“Later,” Mother said. “Guests will be arriving shortly. Come, girls.” She gestured for her daughters to join her. “Let us make one last pass through the main rooms to ensure all is ready.”
Harry’s sisters began to file past him. First was Delia, who paused briefly as she walked by. “I’m going to hear this story if I have to hunt you down later.”
“I’m sure you will.” Harry could only hope he was gone by then. If he told them the truth—that he’d nearly run the woman down while in pursuit of a child thief—they’d say it was a sign that he should marry her immediately. Trying to find wives for him and Jeremy was their chief objective.
After Delia came Imogen. “Shall we arrange for you to be alone with her?”
Rachel joined her. “But which one? Lady Gresham or Miss Whitford?” She scrutinized Harry as if she could divine the answer from his unamused face.
Harry lifted his glass and sipped his brandy without a word.
Imogen looped her arm through Rachel’s. “This soiree has suddenly become very interesting.”
Hell. Harry wished he’d never said anything. Or invited Lady Gresham and her sister.
No, he wouldn’t regret that. He was only trying to help. And Lady Gresham was…intriguing.
After the ladies had gone, Jeremy moved closer. “There isn’t any truth to any of that, is there?”
“Of course not,” Harry said. “I really was just trying to help Lady Gresham. Her sister is having her first Season. You may wish to steer clear of her.”
As heir to an earldom, Jeremy was a sought-after match. But, regardless of what their mother thought