Francie and Sam knocked on the front door of Jack's house like demented twins. The townhouse was certainly glorious. Francie didn't think she'd ever seen a more impressive building, especially not one that people actually lived in.

The butler who opened the door looked quite austere until he saw Sam.

"Miss Samantha, good morning."

"Hullo, Dibbs. This is Miss Francine. We're here to see Jack."

"I'm not sure she's available," he said, sounding sincerely apologetic.

Sam simply ducked under his arm and scurried into the front hall like a rat looking for trouble. "Is she still asleep?"

"I wouldn't know."

Francie had sympathy for the poor man's job. How hard was it to say that when the more reasonable response was, 'Of course she is, you bloody loon'. If Francie had thought through the complication of servants she wouldn't have suggested this caper. Bothering her cousin was one thing. Bothering the staff whose job it was to protect the countess was something else entirely. She grabbed her cousin's hand. "We should go, Sam."

"Of course not," the butler said, managing to be both kindly and distant at once. "You will breakfast with us. My wife has just pulled a pound cake from the oven."

Sam made an inelegant gasp and nearly crushed Francie's hand. "You have no idea," Sam said to her. "Grace's cakes could end war in our lifetime."

The butler herded them toward the dining room and Francie stared at the grand staircase that would lead to her cousin Jack, until it was out of sight.

Francie had to agree that Grace Dibbs made an exceptional cake. Sam was on her third sliver of the treat when another person entered the room. Tall, dark, and serious indeed.

"Good morning, Gideon," Sam said. "Dibbs is spoiling our fun and not letting us pounce on Jack in her sleep."

The earl kissed his sister in law on her upturned cheek. "Good morning, Sam. Don't be mean, Oliver was fussy last night."

Francie smiled at mention of her cousin's babe, born a mere six months before.

"I'm not being mean," Sam said, but she sounded petulant. "It is grand fun waking Jack up when she's tired."

"Agree to disagree, then." The earl turned to Francie. "My apologies for the chaos, Miss Walters. Welcome to our home. Jack always looks forward to your letters."

Not sure what to do, she rose from her seat and did a curtsy. "My lord."

"Please, that's not necessary. We're all family here."

She resumed her seat. She felt a bit foolish, but she'd rather have done it than not. There was no point in being rude to an earl. Especially one that married your cousin.

"When can we see Oliver then," Sam pressed. 

"You can see Oliver and Jack when they feel up to presenting themselves." His tone was mild, but he was clearly used to being obeyed.

Francie went back to picking at her breakfast. So much for her bright idea to tease Jack.

They heard something in the hall, and then the sound of running feet. The earl stood just before his wife burst into the room, as though he knew her timing. She stopped at the doorway and when her gaze found Francie she covered her mouth with her hands. "You really are here!" Jack had clearly come straight from bed. Her honey colored hair streamed over her shoulders and her voluminous nightgown and robe swirled around her as though a few extra yards of fabric had been used in their making. Francie jumped up and the two rushed together for a hug.

"Oh, let me look at you," Jack said. "You look wonderful. Beautiful. Isn't she beautiful, Gideon?"

"A vision," the earl said agreeably.

"How did you get here? When did you come? I received your letter and I'm so proud that you're still a good shot! Has the man recovered?" Jack peppered her with these questions while leading her to the table. Rather than take the chair at the end as Francie expected her to, Jack sat next to her.

"It generally works better if you let them answer a question before asking the next one," the earl observed, finally able to sit down again and resume his meal.

Jack laughed, not taking her eyes off Francie as though still not believing she was really here. "But I might forget a question I meant to ask!"

Francie had to laugh as well. "Um, let me see. I traveled by boat and carriage. I arrived," she cut her eyes to Sam, "yesterday. And yes, the man has recovered."

"Then he's lucky Jack didn't shoot him," the earl said with asperity.

Francie chuckled nervously.

"Yes, we should make sure you get practice soon." Jack's voice was warm with matronly worry, like she'd just suggested Francie get some rest or take a stroll. It was so reminiscent of being with her mother all mixed up with memories of being in Derbyshire with Jack shortly after her father died that she felt the tears welling before she could do anything about it.

Jack leaned in. "Oh, Francie, what's wrong?"

"The shop burned down and I d-d-don't know when my fiancé is coming back for me."

 

***

 

Reggie felt rather a lot like St. George and decided to try changing his engagement in the battle. "Perhaps I can convince her to attend the Swindell ball this evening."

"She is the reason you can't attend?"

"Well, I'd not want to advertise myself as being on the market until things are settled with her one way or the other."

"Then yes, I would like to see her. A mother needs to know what sort of girl her son has an eye on."

"Of course." He rose from his place setting even though he'd not finished half of what he'd selected. When she was in this mood his mother wasn't good for anyone's digestion. That probably meant that it was foolish to wait here for his father to appear because the man would be locked away in his study for the foreseeable future. It should have been less of a surprise than it was that he became excellent at navigating a war. "Enjoy your breakfast, mama."

He kissed her cheek as he left, as was expected, and made his way across the house. Getting into the study required assuring his father's bulldog footman Giles that he really did need to speak to the viscount on business.

His father was still a tall and hearty man, even in his advanced years. His bushy eyebrows rose in surprise at seeing his youngest son, but he set aside his pen willingly enough. "Reggie. I hadn't thought to see you again so soon."

With his father there wasn't so much subtext. If the viscount wanted to say a thing he just said it. That was at least half of the conflict he had with his wife.

"There was unexpected trouble in Cleadon and I need to tell you a few things."

The viscount waved him to sit down. "What is it, boy? You sound like you just broke your mother's favorite vase."

The best course was probably sailing straight through. "I've left some debts in the north in your name so they would take them, but I will cover them when they arrive."

Those bushy eyebrows danced around a bit again. "I see."

"I know I shouldn't have done so without permission, but my need was quite urgent." Well, perhaps his need for fancy hotels couldn't be labeled urgent so much as necessary.

His father waved away the concern and asked. "So what happened?"

He tried the same line to see how it played with his father. "I met a girl."

The viscount’s brows lowered and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did you now?"

"You don't sound pleased."

"The words 'I met a girl' in the same conversation with 'I spent money foolishly' rarely works out well."

"It's not like that, I didn't spend money foolishly." He thought for a moment. Perhaps necessary could be replaced with foolish. "Well, not much of it. There was a fire, you see. I was protecting her from some street ruffians and they set a fire, so I needed to bring her to her uncle here in London."

His father shifted and stared at him for a long while. "You realize that sounds like a Greek tragedy?"

"She's lovely. You'll like her. Her cousin is a countess. I told mama I'd make sure she comes to the Swindell ball this evening." Reggie nearly bit his tongue to keep the stream of inane information from continuing.

The viscount frowned. "I wasn't planning to attend that ball."

Of course he wasn't, thus why mama was looking for Reggie's escort. With his parents it was impossible to know if not attending the ball together was the cause of their disagreement or the result. "You'll have other opportunities to meet her, I'm sure."

"No," the viscount said. "I will attend. I'm curious to find out precisely how foolish you're being, as it is not in your character."

Reggie couldn't tell if that was a compliment or insult. Bloody hell but he needed to find Francie right now and convince her to present herself at the Swindell ball tonight.