“I wanted to see for myself that you are not upset,” Quinn promised as he greeted Amy Cabot in her front hall of her residence on Brick Street.

Amy squeezed his fingers briefly and then pressed her hands to her stomach. “I’m fine, Quinn. Truly. But it is so very good of you to call again. I know how busy you must be now.”

“Never too busy to see you.” He glanced around, looking for her husband. “Has Cabot left you alone again while he tends the shop?”

“He is always there at this hour, and I do not mind. I have important visitors. Won’t you please come and meet them?”

Quinn considered declining, but Amy looked too excited about her visitors to risk disappointing her. “I’d be very happy to meet your friends indeed,” he said quickly. Running Mr. Banks to ground would have to wait another half hour. “Lead the way.”

He followed Amy into the rear of the property—and came to a standstill.

His sister Lady Sally Hastings had made herself at home on a window seat, and smiled warmly at him as he stood there in shock. “There you are at last,” she said.

Quinn spared a glance for Amy, who was grinning madly now.

“Ambush,” he complained, though he wasn’t truly put out. He wagged his finger at Amy and then strode across the room to greet Sally with a hug. “Sister dear? When the devil did you get to London?”

“An hour or so ago. Since you were not at Newberry House, and Mama was not to be found either, I decided to pay Mrs. Cabot a call.”

He set Sally free and took in her appearance, cheeks flush with color, eyes glowing with happiness. She appeared radiant, despite her wearing a gown of mourning colors. “Without your husband? I had hoped you were enjoying a retired married life at Newberry Park.”

“I am indeed, and I’d never travel without him.” She laughed and glanced toward another doorway. “Felix has just gone to fetch a drink from Cabot’s book room.”

At the mention of his name, Felix Hastings appeared, two glasses in hand and a ready smile gracing his face. The smile annoyed Quinn. His new brother-in-law looked positively smug these days. “Thought I heard a surly voice. Hello, Templeton.”

“Hastings.”

“Good to see you, dear brother-in-law, and married life, for your information, is entirely what I’d hoped it could be, and more besides. Oh, here, this is for you,” Hastings said as he held out the second glass to Quinn.

Sally blushed. “Quinn knows full well how happy we are, darling. He’s just teasing.”

Quinn took the drink he was offered but set it aside for a moment. “Also making sure the unpleasantness of the broken engagement was worth her putting up with you.”

Sally shook her head. “Lord Ellicott took the break very well, all things considered. We nodded to each other the last time our paths crossed. He really is the only one who has the right to be upset with me. It is everyone else who stirs up talk and discord when I’m in London. I know how lucky I am to have Felix. I wouldn’t change anything to be proper again. Being a wife is simply too much fun.”

Amy, her brow puckering as she glanced between them, sat forward. “Sally and I have been comparing notes on our husbands’ early-morning temperaments and finding many commonalities.”

“Don’t tell me what they’re like in the morning after sharing your beds.” Quinn put his hands over his ears, and both women laughed at him, as he’d hoped they would. There were some things he really did not need to hear. He lowered his hands slowly and addressed Sally. “Why come to London now of all times?”

Sally stood and approached him and set her hand on his chest. “Just to see if all was well with you. I know you write, but…”

“I’m fine. Every day is an improvement,” he promised her. But he folded his sister into his arms again and held her a moment, knowing that she felt differently about their father than he did. She had been his favorite daughter. Probably because she’d never been punished by him. “How’s Grandfather? And Louisa?”

“Louisa is well. She promised me she would write every day while we were gone.”

Quinn took a chair. “I’m pleased to know it. And you? How are you coping?”

“I am not sure.” She frowned. “I was glad to get away from Grandfather, actually. Seeing him grieving so hard is painful to me, knowing better now what Father has done in the past. What he did to humiliate you and Mother was inexcusable but I suppose it wasn’t the first time he’s been unfaithful.”

Quinn was so taken aback by Sally’s remark that he could say nothing at first. It was perhaps the first time in his memory that his sister had criticized their father to him. He was pleased, too. Mama had put up with a great deal of humiliation over the years, and Sally had never noticed. Amy Cabot’s existence, his affairs, and his involvement with Adele Blakely were undeniable proof of a weak, grasping character.

“It is good to see you again,” he said, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “For whatever reason that brought you to London. How long are you staying?”

“We have not decided. But I was hoping to leave knowing we can have everyone home in Essex for a few weeks soon.”

“Why?”

“Louisa was to have a season, and now we must decide what to do about her.”

“There is nothing to decide. Louisa will spend what remains of the spring in London and enjoy the season as already planned.”

“Barely three months in mourning? People will talk,” Hastings warned.

“Three months is too long for the likes of him,” Quinn promised. “Louisa will do very well without Father scaring off the gentlemen she likes best. She’ll have me at her side almost every moment.”

“If you’re sure we can manage the gossip, then very well. I would not feel right if we harmed Louisa’s chances in anyway,” Sally agreed.

“To have a successful season, we must all be out in society. I’ll speak to my secretary and make sure I have no commitments that month besides those required for Louisa’s benefit.”

“Speaking of your secretary?” Sally started with one brow arched playfully high. “How are you lucky enough to employ not only a competent assistant, but an attractive woman for the post?”

“It wasn’t luck.” He filled them in on the particulars of the night Theodora’s father had died, but left off explaining they had become lovers since. There were some things his family did not need to know about. He mentioned her mother, and the dog he’d given the older woman in the hopes of jollying her spirits. “Miss Dalton is extremely dedicated. Claims work takes her mind off her troubles, and that seems to be true. She also has a mind like a steel trap for details, and I have no complaints.”

“Well, it is very unconventional of you, and very kind to shelter her mother, too. You know my opinion on the intelligence of women and what we are capable of. Our choices are hardly ever our own.” She leaned over and punched his shoulder like a man would. “You’ve made me so very proud.”

“I live to please the women of the family,” he exclaimed, although it was hardly an exaggeration. Someone had to put them first, when his father never had.

He took up his drink as Sally and Amy chatted about the plight of women who fall on hard times, and how few go out of their way to offer real solutions, watching the bonds of affection grow between the two sisters as they discussed mutual interests with great animation. Amy was the product of his father’s sordid affairs, but he—and Sally, too, it seemed—could care less about her past. Amy had suffered more than anyone in the family, and if he had his way, she never would again.

Hastings lured him away to Cabot’s adjacent book room to refill their glasses. “Female secretary? I swear, I don’t know why I’m surprised by your good luck.”

A beautiful, contrary woman, whose eyes flashed with fire when she was thwarted. He could get used to getting in Theodora’s way occasionally. “Have you not become used to us by now? We never do anything in line with convention.”

The man’s gaze strayed to the doorway beyond which his wife sat, a contemplative smile hovering on his lips. “I have a lifetime to learn.”

“Do it quickly and brace yourself. Sally is bound to shock us all again soon.” He glanced at his pocket watch. Time was passing, and as much as he’d like to remain to talk for the afternoon, he should leave. “Or perhaps it will be Louisa’s turn next to upset the applecart.”

Hastings turned, his expression serious. “Has there been any word of Jennings and my ship?”

“Please remember you gave up your ship for marriage of your own free will, and no, I’ve heard nothing at all of the Selfridge, Fredrick, or Captain Jennings.” Quinn shook his head at the desperate mission his father had sent Jennings on to find Quinn’s brother Fredrick months ago. “I’m still well connected, keeping my ears open. There’s been no news.”

“They’ve been gone so long.” Hastings took a sip of his brandy. “I should never have allowed Jennings to replace me. I should have gone after Fredrick myself when your father asked me too.”

He pointed toward the door. “And have my sister miserable again. Have you both miserable. You made the right decision. Jennings is a fine sailor. No matter what, he’s a survivor, too. Have faith in him.”

Hastings wasn’t won over and continued to brood, staring into his drink as he grappled with the feeling of helplessness.

Quinn understood the feeling too well. “How is Rutherford, really?”

“Silent unless Louisa is with him. The day we heard about your father, he retired to his apartment and only let Mr. Morgan attend him. A lot of the fight went out of him that day.” Hasting’s winced. “Truth be told, I was a little worried about coming to London so soon, but Lord Cameron came to call and has promised to stay for a few days, and make a little too much noise to gain the old man’s attention.”

“He’s good at that.”

Hastings leaned against Cabot’s desk. “Now, tell me what I can do for you?”

“For me?”

“You seem preoccupied.”

“Of course I’m preoccupied. I’ve just become an earl.”

“You know what I mean.” Hastings nudged him. “I thought you’d be happier. I know I am,” Hastings said with a wry smile. Hastings had run afoul of his father’s ambitions too in the past.

“I am happy,” he said quietly. “But there is something I need to investigate. I am afraid I cannot stay long.”

“Oh? Sounds very serious.”

“It could be.” If he was correct, and not imagining what he’d seen that morning, it could have a great impact on someone he cared about very much. “I think I might have seen someone who was dead today.”

When Quinn finished explaining himself, Hasting’s helped him escape the Cabot home in search of answers.