Winter's Whispers (The Wicked Winters #10) - Scarlett Scott Page 0,51

his ears, and thrust the window dressings closed.

“Well,” he muttered to himself. “That was one hell of a way to begin the day.”

Realizing he was in love, then inadvertently putting his cock on display.

Curse it all.

His insufferable siblings were going to bloody well have to help him with this hopeless muddle. But first, he needed to get dressed.

Several hours later, Blade waited for the raucous peals of laughter to quiet.

“And there he was, standing in the window,” Demon was regaling the rest of their siblings in the yellow salon.

Blade stared at the pastoral landscapes dotting the walls and the winter’s sunshine filtering into the chamber’s westward-facing windows, fists clenched at his sides, doing his utmost to avoid planting his brother a facer. Following breakfast—where Felicity had been conspicuously absent—he had asked his entire family, Winters born on both sides of the blanket, to join him in the yellow salon. But before he had been able to request the aid of his siblings, the trio who had witnessed his window incident earlier had decided to entertain everyone with the tale.

“Naked as the day he was born,” Gen added, laughing her traitorous head off.

He would get even with her for this, he vowed. He’d sprinkle pepper on her hair whilst she was sleeping. Or let a mouse loose in her chamber.

Gavin wiped a tear of hilarity from his cheek and joined in the familial banter. “Fortunately, he has such a small—”

“What an amusing story,” Lady Emilia interrupted brightly before Gavin could complete his sentence. “Thank you for sharing it with us!”

Blade remained unruffled by the last bit. Nothing about his cock was small, and he damn well knew it.

“Quite amusing to discover you have been parading about in the nude before my houseguests,” Devereaux said coolly. “I do recall warning you to stay out of trouble.”

Yes, his half brother had. And Blade would have reminded Devereaux that he was indeed staying out of trouble—hell, he had even danced a goddamn minuet at a stupid ball like some spoony nib twat—except he could hardly claim innocence after last night.

“I was hardly parading,” he said with practiced calm. “I was standing perfectly still. And it was unintentional. I have been taking your words of caution to heart.”

Except for the part where he had bedded a virginal lady—twice—the night before.

But he would not apologize for that. Especially not when he was about to make amends. Or to do his damnedest to try, anyway.

“Hmm,” was all his half brother said.

“Why have you called us here, Blade?” Gen asked. “Surely it was not so we could humiliate you before the other Winters.”

“There is no more other Winters,” Devereaux said. “We have had our great pax. No more fighting between us, no division between siblings. We are all Winters.”

Gen’s eyes narrowed, her natural cynicism on display. “I still don’t understand how a man who wants to be a nib benefits from bringing his bastard siblings born in the rookeries to a house party filled with other nibs.”

Damn it, his troublesome sister and her outspoken nature ordinarily did not bother him one whit, but in this instance, he did not want the subject to divert from his intention.

“Because we stand stronger together than we can divided,” Devereaux countered.

“Strange way for a cove to think, all I’m saying,” Gen offered with a shrug.

“We love you,” Lady Emilia added. “We have weathered the storm of polite society in the past, and we shall do so again, however we must.”

“The most important thing is that we are family,” Mrs. Merrick Hart said.

“All of us,” the Countess of Hertford agreed.

“No other reward necessary,” said Lady Aylesford. “Except, mayhap the story about Blade at the window. That was quite rewarding.”

Everyone laughed. Even Lady Emilia, who had stopped the initial discussion.

Fucking hell.

Blade’s face was aflame, which was ridiculous. Blade Winter did not flush, not with embarrassment, or otherwise.

“We love you,” Lady Pru Rawdon said after everyone’s chuckles had abated.

“And we are doing everything in our power to see you wed to Lady Felicity Hughes,” the Duchess of Coventry announced.

“Christabella!” A chorus of scandalized chastisements rose up from all the females in the chamber.

Save Gen, that was. She was still glowering at the chamber and suspecting everyone of a secret plot.

“He may as well know,” the duchess argued. “Else we shall be here all day, and I am getting quite hungry.”

“You just had breakfast,” grumbled Lady Aylesford.

“Grace!” snapped Pru. “Next you shall resort to pulling hair.”

Lady Aylesford rolled her eyes. “I have not pulled anyone’s hair