as well. “He agreed to let me furnish the house and to invite whomever I please to visit.”
A look of understanding suddenly dawned on Lucretia’s face, and she said quite kindly, “Is it the bedchamber? Has he won you over with…erm…his talented bedsport?”
Talented bedsport? Messalina’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Well, he is quite good-looking.” Her sister shrugged and said thoughtfully, “I mean, those hands and his shoulders and that mouth. I’ve overheard matrons discussing gentlemen using their mouths to—”
“Lucretia!” Messalina felt heat suffuse her face as she imagined just what Gideon could do to her with his tongue and lips. She took a deep breath. “As it happens, Gideon agreed to postpone our wedding night.”
Lucretia blinked. “You mean…?”
“I mean that although we share a room and a bed we haven’t—”
The door to the dining room opened and the gentlemen strode in, none of them looking very happy.
Messalina had leaned close to Lucretia during their conversation, and she straightened almost guiltily.
Gideon raised a brow, looking amused.
Julian, as always, merely seemed bored, while Quintus leaned against the doorjamb. Sometime in the last fifteen minutes he had gone pale.
Julian spoke first. “It is growing late, and Quinn and I must find rooms at an inn for the night. Come, Lucretia. We’ll take you to Windemere House.”
“No,” Messalina blurted.
Both of her brothers looked at her.
Lucretia lifted her chin. “I’m staying with Messalina.”
Quintus groaned near the door. He was rubbing his temple as if it ached. “Not you, too.”
Messalina bristled. “Not her too what?”
Quintus waved his hand at Gideon. “She’s willing to sleep under the same roof with that.”
Messalina opened her mouth, but Lucretia beat her to the reply: “I’m staying with my sister because I love her.”
Quintus flushed blotchily, looking away.
Julian sighed. “I understand not wishing to stay with our uncle, but I must point out that this house hardly seems livable.”
“There’s a bedroom suitably fitted for her,” Gideon replied. “Thank you for your concern.”
Julian ignored him. “Lucretia?”
“I’m staying,” Lucretia said firmly.
Messalina let out her breath in relief and took her hand.
For a long moment Julian was still, and Messalina wondered if he would argue the point. He mustn’t. She had to tell him and Quintus—alone—that their uncle had threatened Lucretia.
She glanced at Lucretia’s happy face from under her eyelashes. She didn’t want to wipe that expression away.
Julian nodded. “Very well. I’ll say goodbye to you both.”
With that he pivoted and walked from the room.
Quintus looked exasperated, then glared at Gideon. “We plan to stay in town. If you do anything to harm either of my sisters, we’ll know about it—and you’ll pay.”
“I tremble in my boots.” Gideon’s lips curved mockingly, belying his words. “However, I have no intention of hurting either Messalina or Lucretia. They’re under my protection.”
Quintus scoffed at that, but he strode to where Messalina and Lucretia sat and pulled them up one after the other and swept them into a bear hug.
Messalina closed her eyes. Even with the sour scent of old liquor about his person, Quintus’s broad shoulders had always been comforting.
“Tomorrow morn I’ll send the direction of the inn we’ll stay in,” he murmured before drawing back so he could pin them with his glare. “If anything—anything at all—makes you uncomfortable here, I want you to come to us at once. Barring that, send a letter. Do you understand?”
Messalina nodded. She was certain now that she’d have no need of such help, but she might as well put Quintus’s mind at ease.
“Yes,” Lucretia answered him solemnly.
“Good.” With one last piercing glance he strode after Julian.
“Well,” Messalina said, and then she had nothing to add.
“I don’t suppose you’ve anything to sup on,” Lucretia asked gloomily.
“Actually, we do,” Gideon answered her.
“We do?” Messalina asked in surprise.
“Hicks has been practicing.” He shot her a devilish grin before going to the door and calling, “Reggie!”
After a second the big man appeared. “Aye, guv?”
“Tell Pea to bring in the supper.”
“Right you are.”
Five minutes later Pea and Reggie brought in a bowl of apples, some cheese, bread and butter, and a roast chicken—only slightly burned.
Messalina clapped her hands. “Oh, he is improved.”
Lucretia glanced from her to the blackened bird. “This is improved?”
Gideon ignored her incredulity. “Good lad,” he muttered to Pea as the youth filled a glass of wine and handed it to Gideon. “Make sure to compliment our cook.”
A wide grin broke across Pea’s face before he hastily brought his expression back under control.
Messalina tilted her head. Odd. She hadn’t noticed before how Gideon’s men seemed to almost worship him.
“The apples look nice at least,”