Page 11 of Her Rake Fiancé

Calliope, his younger sister, gave him a bright smile like she always did. He knew her better than anyone in the family. Perhaps it was also that they were so alike in their appearance—both had their father’s auburn hair and big blue eyes—whereas both Spencer and Preston were all Mama—black hair and eyes.

“No, we weren’t,” said Preston, frowning at her. “You’re trying to change the topic. We were talking about your marriage prospects. It is time for you to find a husband.”

Preston had married Miss Penelope Beckett nearly two months ago for revenge against her father who had hired Blackmore to hurt Spencer. Despite Preston’s resolve to not feel anything but hatred for his enemy’s daughter, he had fallen in love with her and was now irrevocably happy.

“Is Teanby bringing you another cup?” Preston asked.

Richard gave him a quick smile of appreciation and took a seat on the sofa opposite Calliope. “He is.”

Tension in his stomach made him breathe quickly. Just last night, the whole family had gathered in Newdale Place, Preston and Penelope’s new home, and Preston had given them the news that changed all their worlds. The news that they hadn’t buried Spencer.

They had all decided they’d do everything they could to find him. First thing was to go to Blackmore and ask him for information, and Richard had volunteered.

And now, somehow, he needed to give them the news he was engaged to Blackmore’s sister—and convince them all it was for love and had nothing to do with his mission.

They’d see right through him, he was sure.

But he was most worried about Calliope, who narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s wrong with you, brother?” she asked. “Something happened. Why are you so distressed?”

“I’m not distressed,” Richard replied.

“You are. I’m not even talking about your wrinkled clothes or your hair that clearly hasn’t been touched by Theo. I see you like that quite frequently.”

Theo was his valet. There. She saw right through him.

“What I’m referring to is your face, as if you’ve just been struck by lightning… And are those muddy smudges all over your clothes from a dog’s paws?”

Richard looked down at his clothes. The dry black mud left by Hercules was undeniable evidence.

“Just an accident,” said Richard, his stomach dropping at the thought of bringing up his engagement. “I’ll go and change soon. What do I hear about you looking for a husband?”

The diversion worked. Calliope’s blue eyes were like spyglasses on him. But when he didn’t back down and didn’t look away, she scoffed and leaned back in the sofa.

“You’re quite mistaken, brother,” she said. “I am not looking for a husband. He is.”

The strength of her gaze landed now on Preston, who cocked a single dark eyebrow and returned the stare. “And I will not leave you alone until I find you one.”

“But why do you want me to?” demanded Calliope. “Should I not be allowed my own opinion about how I spend the rest of my life?”

“You need someone to take care of you and protect you,” said Preston. “And to forbid you to do that nonsense with an investigative agency you keep talking about.”

“But I don’t need anyone to protect me.” Calliope batted her eyelashes. “I have you two.”

His heart melted, as did his brother’s, he knew.

His little fox, Richard thought. People thought she was a wallflower hiding behind books, chess tables, and, quite frankly, behind the backs of eager debutantes. In truth, she was so much more. Like him, she had mastered giving the appearance of someone she wasn’t.

Grandmama chuckled and patted her hand. “Well done, love.”

Even Preston, who preferred to appear cold and unaffected, shook his head with a soft smile. He sighed and walked to take his place on the sofa next to her. Calliope hid a satisfied smirk behind a cup of tea as she took a sip.

Using the moment of silence, Richard reached for the courage to say what he had to say.

For Spencer, he reminded himself.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat and said, “I’m engaged.”

Tea burst out of Calliope’s lips, spraying right into Preston’s face. With his eyes blinking the milky drink away, drops dripping from his chin and hair onto his shirt and breeches, he turned to Richard, looking like a wet but dangerous panther. Grandmama froze with a biscuit between her lips, her eyes as large as magnifying glasses.