He grimaced. “I want to know why they left in the first place.”
She shook her head. “I’m sure they had a good reason.”
The carriage stopped and they stepped out onto the steps waiting as each of the guests arrived. Her parents came next along with Grace and Diana. Minnie and Daring just after them. Her aunt and Ada arrived after that. Emily and Jack were the last carriage to enter the drive. All the guests turned to them as they made their way to the door.
“Let’s step inside first, shall we?” Jack grimaced as he reached for Emily’s hand.
Silently the crowd entered the house. Emily pushed to the front of the group, reaching for Cordelia’s arm.
“Corde, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt your wedding.” Emily cringed. “I just didn’t want to miss it.”
“I don’t care about that.” Cordelia reached for her sister. “I just want to know, we all want to know what happened.”
Jack came to stand next to his wife. “It’s my fault.”
“Why?” Chad asked, squinting his eyes.
Jack grimaced. “The shortest version is that Emily was threatened by the Countess of Abernath. I didn’t want to wait another month for our wedding and I wanted to get away from London. What I didn’t realize was that by leaving, she’d focus her attention on someone like Cordelia instead.”
“How do you know all of this?” Cordelia asked.
Both Jack and Emily looked to Daring. The duke cleared his throat. “I’ve been writing them.” He shrugged. “Two weddings have happened since they left.”
Diana stepped up to the group. “Tell me that all your friends aren’t planning to propose to my family.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve no intention of marrying, especially not one of your group.”
Daring lifted a brow. “I’m sure you’re safe. But I’m curious to know what was in that letter that spooked you so.”
Jack ran his hand through his hair. “To tell you that, I have to confess some other sins to you and I’m not sure how you’ll react.”
Daring straightened. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”
Jack gave a nod. “Let’s have this conversation with all the men. They should know too.”
“Fine.” Daring gave a terse nod. “We’ll keep it short, however. Malice has a new bride to attend. Shall we say five tonight?”
“Five it is…”
Earl of Exile
Lords of Scandal Book 3
Tammy Andresen
Earl of Exile
Lords of Scandal Book 3
Lord Callum Exmouth stood on the edge of the large ball room, strategically placed by one of the open garden doors. The spring breeze kept the air around him fresh and made him feel less trapped by th
e crowd. Large social gatherings made him uncomfortable. Not that he couldn’t participate in them, he just didn’t like them.
He rolled his neck from side to side, causing it to crack. Hell, he hated parties and balls. Unlike the other men in his circle, he hadn’t grown up knowing he was part of the peerage. His friends called him Exile, and the name suited him. He was an outcast, especially among his own family.
A gentleman bumped him and Exile let out a deep rumble of dissatisfaction. The man looked over at him, his brow scrunched until he caught Exile’s gaze then his own eyes widened in surprise. “I beg your pardon.” The man shuffled off quickly giving several worried glances backward.
He cracked two of his knuckles as if to underscore his point. Exile had that effect on people. His sheer size was intimidating.
Exile’s cousin, Ewan, was supposed to be the next Earl of Exmouth. Ewan had been born and raised for the position of one Scottish earl and had taken to the role naturally. Fair and decent, Ewan would have made an excellent leader of his people. Exile thought back to his larger than life cousin. Though, physically speaking, they’d been the same size, even as kids, Ewan had always known what to do. One summer, Exile had stayed with his aunt and uncle on their estate north of Glasgow. While playing with a group of boys, one of them had fallen from a tree and broken his arm. At twelve years of age, Ewan had taken charge. He’d sent one child for help, another was to hold the boy’s hand, a third was to go directly to the doctor. Exile at ten had wondered if he’d ever be as capable as Ewan. Now at eight and twenty he was still asking himself that same question.