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you?”
    St. Austell released the sigh of a
beleaguered man. “It would put Pippa’s mind at ease, and I’d much
rather have my wife’s attention focused on me than on
you.”
    Harry couldn’t help the laugh that
escaped him. Of course St. Austell would have an ulterior motive.
He spun on his heel to face his brother-in-law. “Altruistic as
always, hmm? How does my sister tolerate you?”
    “ Pippa loves me, and I love
her.” A genuine smile lit St. Austell’s face, which was quite
different that the smug expression he sported most of the time. “So
which of Marston’s sisters has caught your notice? Miranda?
Penelope?” He cringed. “Hopefully not Alessandra, as that would be
more than awkward with Puttenham in the mix.”
    Harry’s mouth fell open. “How is it
you’re so familiar with Marston’s sisters?”
    His brother-in-law shrugged. “Simeon
Bartlett was a friend before his untimely death. I’ve heard about
those three girls for years. The shy Alessandra. The secretive
Miranda. And the spoiled Penelope.”
    Secretive, that was certainly Miranda.
Harry wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that St. Austell had
been friends with the saintly Simeon Bartlett or that he seemed to
remember details about the late gentleman’s sisters. He’d never
known the earl to give much thought to anyone except himself, and
of course Pippa.
    “ He adored them, doted on
them,” St. Austell continued. “Always struck me as odd as I’d
rather be just about anywhere but near my own sister. Of course
Nora is a harridan of the worst variety, but I digress. Which
Bartlett sister has you bashing that poor punch bag into
oblivion?”
    Harry shook his head as though his
brother-in-law was absurd. “I come here all the time.”
    “ Indeed,” St. Austell
agreed. “But you never look quite so murderous, and you did have
such a bounce in your step in my parlor today. Clearly something
turned your mood black.”
    “ Seeing you twice in a day
does that to a man.”
    His brother-in-law tossed back his
head and laughed. Then his familiar smug expression settled once
more on his face. “Fine, keep your own council. Pippa’s headed over
to Marston House as it is, with that invitation you were so keen
on. She’ll learn all your secrets, I’m sure.”

    Needlepoint had to have been created
by some man to keep women in their place. Horrid waste of time and
energy. Miranda frowned at the mess in her lap. The colorful
thread, stitched this way and that, didn’t remotely resemble a
horse in a pasture. In fact, when she closed one eye and tilted the
fabric to the side, her work looked more like Cerberus frolicking
in a clover field than anything else.
    Beside her on the settee, Penny didn’t
even attempt to hide her amusement. Miranda dropped the odious
horse-turned-three-headed-dog to her lap and scowled at her
sister.
    “ You’re getting better,”
Louisa said from a chair opposite them, though she bit her lip as
though to keep from laughing right alongside Penny.
    One would think a vicar’s daughter
wouldn’t tell an outright lie. Miranda heaved a sigh before
returning her gaze to the disaster of thread before her. At least
Cerberus was better than other mythical characters she could have
created. If she was better at this sort of thing, she could even
have Cerberus slay a particular demigod. Alas, that was not a
talent she possessed. What a pity.
    From the threshold, their butler
cleared his throat. “My lady,” he said to Louisa. “The Countess of
St. Austell has come to call.”
    Miranda’s heart seized and her breath
caught in her throat. The Countess of St. Austell? Lord Harrison’s
sister? What could that particular lady possibly want?
    “ Thank you, Hibbert,” Louisa
replied. “Do show her in, and deliver some refreshments as well,
please.”
    As soon as the butler disappeared,
Penny grasped Miranda’s hand. “Do you know who she is?” her sister
whispered, her gleeful eyes boring into Miranda.
    “ I was