On a Wicked Dawn (Cynster 9)

"We're going to have to cover every possible approach to the house." Luc looked down at the plan of the house he'd unrolled on his desk. Lucifer and Martin flanked him, likewise poring over the diagram.

Simon stood opposite, his gaze flicking from the plan to their faces, then back again. "There's really no other choice?"

"None." Lucifer replied without even looking up. "Take it from us — further argument is wasted effort."

Arthur strolled up. He glanced at the plan, then sighed. "I really hate to leave at such a moment, but

those negotiations will not wait."

Lucifer, Luc, and Martin all looked at him.

"Don't worry," Luc said.

"We'll manage," came from Lucifer.

"Especially given you got her promise not to tackle the thief herself." Martin grinned. "You've done your bit — you can leave the rest to us."

Arthur looked at them, then nodded. "Very well — but send word to Devil if you do need help."

They nodded.

Arthur pulled out his watch, checked the time. "Well, I'd best go and see if Louise is ready to depart. We were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago."

He left them studying the house plan.

In the front hall, he came upon a scene of frenetic energy with maids and footmen dashing this way and that, streaming about the ladies gathered in the hall's center.

Louise saw him. "There you are. We've been waiting for you."

Arthur simply smiled.

Minerva, Emily, and Anne farewelled him with wishes for a speedy and safe journey.

A step beyond, the twins had their heads together. Arthur paused to take in the sight, one he'd seen so many times, then he slid one arm around Amanda's waist, the other around Amelia, hugged them both, and planted a kiss first on one forehead, then the other. "Take care, both of you."

They laughed, beamed, and kissed him back.

"Take care, Papa."

"Come and visit again."

Stifling a sigh, he released them, trying hard not to think that he had, indeed, truly let them go. He took Phyllida's hand and kissed it. "You, too, my dear."

Phyllida smiled serenely and kissed his cheek. "Have a good trip."

Arthur turned to Helena. "As for you…"

Helena raised her brows haughtily, but her eyes danced. "Me, I will do very well, I thank you. But you had best be away, or you will not reach London tonight." Her smile softened; she gave him her hands and lifted her cheek for him to kiss. "Take care."

"That's my line," Arthur growled, obliging with the kiss, then squeezing her hands before releasing them.

A renewed tide of "good-byes" and waves carried them through the front door. Arthur led Louise down the steps to where their coach stood, heavily burdened.

He handed Louise in, then, with a last wave at the assembled ladies, who, he now noted, had been joined by their husbands and his only surviving son, he followed his wife into the carriage. The door was shut, the footman stood back. A whip cracked; the coach lurched, then rumbled forward.

They waved, then Louise sighed and sat back. Arthur did the same. Louise glanced at him. "So, are you happy with your sons-in-law?"

Arthur raised his brows. "They're both good men, and they're clearly… devoted."