“Please stop insulting my friend.” It was Pen’s turn to cross her arms over her chest.
Perhaps coming to her siblings with this problem had been a mistake. None of them seemed ready to provide a resolution, and instead, Aidan was the recipient of a verbal thrashing. Not that she could entirely blame Hart. Pen herself had been quite outraged when she had realized Aidan had ignored her polite refusal of his suggestion and had taken the nonsensical announcement to his family.
Now she was left to deal with the repercussions.
“He ain’t your friend, or he would be here when his dog of a brother turns up snarling, with bared teeth,” Wolf said coolly.
While she had not seen or heard from Aidan since she had told him she would not agree to his madcap plan of marriage, that was hardly unusual. Aidan was like the wind. He blew about wherever he wished, and he was often easily distracted by whatever amusements were before him at the moment. He had been rather vexed with her when he had taken his leave as well, and she had supposed he may have been hurt by her refusal.
However, regardless of his feelings, it was apparent he had proceeded with his plan. And despite her wishes to the contrary. Her fondness for Aidan aside, Pen still intended to harangue him when he reappeared for causing her such headaches. Perhaps even box his ears…
“I didn’t gather you all so you could insult poor Aidan,” she said, despite her own less-than-generous thoughts concerning him. “I wanted your opinions on what I should do about his brother, should he return this evening.”
“We already told you,” Wolf said, shaking his head as if she were a lost cause. “Take the coin and forget about the cove.”
“Less trouble is what we need,” Hart added.
“Especially after the fire,” offered Lily.
Pen sighed. This was not the advice she had wished to hear. It was, however, what she had feared. “Very well. I shall see to his high and mighty lordship myself when he returns.”
“That one’s starched,” Wolf observed. “Don’t think you’ll need much help from us. But we’ll be about, and so will the lads.”
By the lads, he meant the many hulking guards The Sinner’s Palace employed for the protection of not just their patrons, but the Sutton family themselves. Those men were as trusted as family members and hardly what one would think of as lads.
“Take the coin,” Hart added grimly, “and do what’s best for us all.”
A sigh of disappointment escaped Pen, for accepting Lord Lordly’s bribe was not at all what she wished to do. There had to be another way to appease him. Or to persuade him she had no desire to marry his brother.
Or merely to chase him away so that he might never return.
Chasing him away? Ah, yes. There was the better choice. Perhaps the sole one.
All she required was a plan.
* * *
His eagerness tobe rid of the dreadful Miss Penelope Sutton drove Garrick to The Sinner’s Palace earlier than he had planned. That, and his mother having requested an audience with him. Rather than listen to Mama prattle on about Lady Hester’s reputation and suitability as the future Duchess of Dryden, he had sent her a note explaining he would be settling the matter of her youngest son’s regrettable decision to attempt to shackle himself to a beautiful fortune-hunting harlot.
In so many words.
Naturally, Garrick had employed no small amount of tact in his reply. His reputation for being society’s most proper gentleman had not been earned through mere gossip. He did his utmost to be the embodiment of propriety and well-bred manners. Which meant that he refrained from referring to Miss Sutton as beautiful, and he avoided calling her a harlot.
As his conveyance pulled to a halt at the rear of The Sinner’s Palace, Garrick adjusted the fit of his gloves and the tilt of his hat before smoothing a slight wrinkle from his great coat. Perfection pleased him. Anything less was cause for not just dismay, but aggravation.
Garrick disliked aggravation immensely.
It made his eye twitch.
In his customary habit, he tugged at his left coat sleeve first and then his right coat sleeve before disembarking. There were two massive fellows flanking the private entrance to the Sutton family gaming hell today. The air was cold with the portent of rain. In addition to aggravation, Garrick also found most precipitation grievously displeasing. Snow, on occasion, was acceptable enough. But only in moderate amounts in the country, and for approximately ten minutes.
He approached the guards, deciding to pretend as if they were footmen rather than hulking East End scoundrels. Doing so certainly lent a less distasteful air to this entire sordid affair. “Viscount Lindsey to see Miss Sutton.”
“Which Miss Sutton is it?” asked the man on the right, looking distinctly unimpressed.
There was more than one? Christ.
“Miss Penelope Sutton,” he elaborated, stifling a sigh of irritation. “She will be expecting me.”
“She ain’t ’ere,” said the fellow on the left, crossing his arms over his chest.
This was an unexpected development. And a vexing one at that.
He frowned, for he was early, it was true. But curse the woman, he had warned her he would return. “Where has she gone?”
“Don’t know.” The man made a snorting sound, as if he were inhaling something unsavory.
Perhaps snot.
Garrick took a step in retreat, hoping the giant in question did not have anything that was catching. “Did Miss Sutton say when she might be returning?”
The man took his time responding, making a wretched sound deep in his throat that must have somehow been related to the snot. “No.”
Garrick waited for one of the pair to offer something more. Instead, they simply remained firm in their stances and stony-eyed silence. Did they not know who he was?
“Perhaps you have never heard my name,” he said, though the admission was irritating indeed. “I am the heir to the Duke of Dryden. My good opinion is quite highly regarded in the ton.”
The man on the right shrugged.
The man on the left remained as still as a marble bust.
Where the devil was the lad whose palms he had greased the day before? Finding his way into the inner sanctum of The Sinner’s Palace had proven much easier yesterday.
He looked from one unimpressed guard to the other. Neither man blinked or moved.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “I will await Miss Sutton’s return.”
“Don’t think Miss Sutton’d like that, milord,” said the one on the right.