In hurried words, she told them what had happened that evening.
Emily gasped at various points, her hands covering the lower half of her face. But the other two sisters remained silent. They wore matching looks of displeasure.
When it was done, Abigail looked at Eliza. “She can’t go back there.”
“I agree,” Bash answered relieved.
But Eliza shook her head. “I disagree. We need to find out who this man is. What if he’s connected to Father?”
“That’s what I said,” Isabella chimed in.
Eliza looked over at Emily. “Emily, you’re the only one that hasn’t chimed in.”
Abigail’s brow furrowed. “The duke gets a family vote now?”
/> Isabella’s hand squeezed his arm. “Of course, he does. He is the only reason we’re still afloat and haven’t had to sell that silver.”
Something about those words knocked the wind from his lungs. They needed him. So much.
And he needed them too.
Well, he needed Isabella. More and more with each passing day. But what if he turned into his father. What if his demanding temper turned against the very person he loved the way his father had torn down his son?
Love? Had he just used that word?
Christ. He was in trouble. Was he falling in love?
He looked over at Isabella’s profile. The soft curve of her cheek. The generous turn of her mouth. Lord, even now, he wanted to cup her face and support the weight of her head in his hand.
“I…” Emily started. “I don’t want Isabella to go back.”
His shoulders hunched. Good. That bought him more time to decide what to do about his growing feelings.
Then Emily spoke again. “But I hate the idea of turning our home and Father’s business to Uncle Malcolm.” Then Emily looked at him. She had that same earnest expression as Isabella. “Can you keep her safe?”
He, in turn, looked back at Isabella. Would he allow anything to happen to her? No. He wouldn’t. “I can keep her safe.”
“Then I vote she goes back.” Emily held up a hand. “But not every night. It’s too hard on her.”
He nodded. “Twice a week. And only for a few more weeks while we discover the identity of the gold purse giver.”
“Agreed.” Eliza smiled in relief. “He’s our best lead to finding out what has happened to our father.”
“Agreed.” Abigail frowned. “Don’t let Isabella down.”
“I won’t,” he answered, pulling her a bit closer. “Where is that chaperone I hired?”
Eliza chuckled. “Aunt Mildred believes in a strict schedule. She goes to bed promptly at ten.”
“I’ll be back over in the morning.” He gave Isabella’s fingers one more squeeze.
She crinkled her brow as she looked at him. “Why?”
“You need staff.”
She gasped. “Bash. No. I already owe you too large a debt.”
He sighed. He wished he could kiss her. “I’ve already told you, you’re making the club a king’s ransom. You need staff.” Then he slipped his arm from her grasp. He wished he could stay. But he needed to speak with his brother.