Sitting back in his chair, Frederick considered what would await him at Raventhorne House. He was acquainted with Ryder, who was actually Stacie’s half brother; he and Ryder occasionally met in the House of Lords, although neither were deeply immersed in politics.
Ryder was several years older than Rand, whom Frederick knew from schooldays and, more recently, through investing circles. As Frederick was about eighteen months older than Rand, in age, he fell between Stacie’s two older siblings. Frederick had crossed paths with Rand at Eton, but Ryder had already left the school before Frederick had arrived—suggesting that Ryder was at least five years older than Frederick.
As for Stacie’s other brothers—Christopher, who was known as Kit, and Godfrey, the only one of her siblings younger than she—Frederick knew little beyond the fact that Kit had recently found a wife.
“So,” he murmured, eyes narrowing. He tapped a finger on the edge of his desk. “Three are married, and the youngest is not.”
That might prove telling.
A few moments later, he roused himself, rose, and headed for Mount Street. Doubtless, Stacie’s brothers had questions for him, and he had questions he wanted answered, too.
He arrived at Mount Street and was promptly shown into what proved to be Ryder’s study.
He’d expected to face Ryder and, possibly, Rand; instead, he discovered all four Cavanaugh brothers lounging about the room. Ryder sat behind his desk, which was set before the bow window, which left Ryder’s face poorly lit.
Rand was seated in one of the two large armchairs angled before the desk, while Kit sat propped on the wide sill of the bow window, behind and to Ryder’s left.
Godfrey had been drifting down the room, perusing the books on the shelves; he’d halted and whirled to stare at Frederick when he’d stepped into the room.
Frederick had paused for a split second, sweeping his gaze over the room, taking in the brothers’ strictly impassive faces. Brows faintly arching, he walked on into their midst; he heard the door click shut behind him and had to battle an urge to grin.
Rand rose, as did Ryder, and Kit pushed to his feet. Ryder nodded. “Albury.”
There was not the slightest intonation in Ryder’s voice to give Frederick a clue as to the brothers’ thoughts. In urbane fashion, he nodded back. “Raventhorne.” With his gaze, he acknowledged the other three men, noting that Godfrey had shifted to take up a position by the window, opposite Kit and flanking Ryder.
Ryder waved Frederick to the armchair opposite the one Rand sank back into. Frederick sat, crossed his legs, rested his hands, relaxed, on the chair’s arms, and gave his attention to Ryder.
Ryder sat, clasped his hands before him, and fixed his hazel gaze on Frederick. “It came as…something of a surprise to learn that you and our sister have formed a tendre and decided to marry—indeed, coming out of the blue as it did, to say the news came as a shock would be an understatement.”
Very real surprise, aggravation at being caught unawares, yet acceptance rather than rejection—Frederick noted all three emotions emanating in varying degrees from each of the brothers.
He blinked. Clearly, contrary to Stacie’s belief, her sisters-in-law had failed to alert their husbands to the true state of affairs. He rapidly revised his assumption of how much the four male Cavanaughs knew. “First,” he said, in reply to the implied question of what the hell he’d been thinking springing such an event on them, “I take it none of you have met with your ladies this afternoon.”
Ryder frowned and glanced at Rand, who shook his head, then at Kit, who, looking mystified, shook his head as well. Ryder turned back to Frederick. “We were all out at lunches and meetings. We convened here less than half an hour ago. So no, we haven’t spoken to our wives since breakfast.”
Frederick inclined his head. “In that case, there’s rather a lot you need to hear. However, before we go further, allow me to point out that I have two sisters of my own, so I fully appreciate your position.” He hadn’t come with any definite plan of what to say, but instinct prodded, and he smoothly continued, “It is, therefore, imperative that you understand the true situation between myself and Stacie.”
He proceeded to describe the fateful events that had taken place in Stacie’s private parlor toward the end of her musical evening. “After everyone else had left, I remained behind, and we discussed the situation and decided on our way forward—specifically, that we will continue as if engaged until July and, once the ton has scattered, will quietly let it be known that we have, in t
he end, decided we don’t suit.”
All four brothers had listened to his tale without interrupting. As the full meaning sank in, he could almost see them deflating.
It was Godfrey who put their disappointment into words. “So it’s not real?”
Frederick considered, then replied, “It might be a necessary fiction, but in execution, it’s real enough, and we must never forget that, in order for Stacie and, indeed, myself to emerge from this situation without the slightest whiff of scandal attaching to our names, the engagement must, to all intents and purposes, be real.”
Ryder’s eyes had narrowed. “Until you—together—end it.”
Frederick met Ryder’s hard gaze, inclined his head, and allowed his gaze to fall. Assessing the atmosphere in the room, he let a heartbeat pass, then added, “That said”—he raised his gaze to Ryder’s face—“in working alongside Stacie over the past weeks, through her endeavors to convince me to support her enterprise and through the preparations contingent on putting on last night’s entertainment, I’ve come to value your sister for her unique qualities, for herself. In short, I would not oppose the notion of converting what has commenced as, in her words, a sham into a reality—provided, of course, that Stacie herself agreed.”
Until that moment, he hadn’t known he would say that—admit that—yet now he had, he knew without question that it was the right step.
The change in atmosphere was marked, the brothers shifting from being cast down to considering what they plainly viewed as an acceptable and hopeful possibility.
Ryder’s thinning lips told Frederick that his subtle manipulations weren’t going unremarked, yet judging by Ryder’s carefully controlled yet considering expression, not even he was immune to the tug of Frederick’s lure.
After a long moment of regarding each other, Frederick arched a brow in silent question.