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placed a hand over his heart and closed his eyes in apparent ecstasy.
    “You and every other man in London,” William snapped. Damn it, did every man in England fawn over Marcail? No wonder the woman was impossible. “Tell Poston at once.”
    Lippton bowed. “Yes, sir.”
    William had turned to go up the stairs to his bedchamber when Lippton called after him, “Oh, sir! You have visitors; they are waiting for you in the sitting room.”
    Lippton’s voice was one of doom. Which meant …
    “Which of my family is here?”
    “Five of them, sir. And we’ve little food in the cupboard as you did not inform us you would be returning to London so soon.”
    “Bloody hell.”
    “Yes, sir. Two of your sisters arrived an hour ago, along with the Earl of Erroll and your brother-inlaw, Lord MacLean.”
    “That’s four. Who’s the fifth? Or need I ask?”
    “It is Mr. Robert. He has been here since—” Lippton glanced at the tall clock that graced the entry “—a little over two hours. He’s come every day for the last three days, sir, and he always stays at least an hour, sometimes more.”
    “And no doubt he’s been drinking my whiskey every time he comes, damn him.”
    “Yes, sir.” Lippton nodded toward the tray he’d set down when William had arrived. “That is the last decanter.”
    William sent a hard glance at the sitting room door. “While I send my family on their way, please pack my portmanteau. I shall need clothes for at least two weeks.”
    “Yes, sir. Oh, and yesterday an older person of rather low breeding called.” Lippton couldn’t have looked more put upon. “I wouldn’t allow him beyond the vestibule, so he left you this.” Lippton crossed to a small table beside the umbrella stand and picked up a dirty and crumpled envelope.
    William ripped it open and scanned the missive, a grim smile appearing as the words sped by. “Excellent.” It was the first good news he’d received in the last week. “This gentleman will return. When he does, tell me immediately. I must speak with him.”
    “Yes, sir.” Lippton didn’t look happy with those orders.
    “Meanwhile, I shall face my family and explain how I managed to wreck our rescue plans for our brother, Michael.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. I’m quite fond of Mr. Michael. I shall miss his serial in The Morning Post .”
    “My sister Mary writes that, not Michael.”
    For the second time that afternoon, Lippton looked bitterly disappointed. Then he straightened his shoulders. “Shall I fetch refreshments for the ladies, sir? I can purchase some scones and—”
    “Lord, no. That will just encourage them to stay. The fact that Robert has consumed all of my good Scottish whiskey is bad enough. Please have their carriages readied for their departure.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    William crossed to the sitting room door. He could hear the low murmur of voices inside, but they stopped the second he turned the knob and walked in. “Good afternoon.” He closed the door and made his way toward the crackling fireplace, pausing to kiss his sisters’ cheeks. “Caitlyn. Mary. Good to see you.”
    William had three sisters; the two older ones were twins, Triona and Caitlyn. He also had one younger sister, Mary. Caitlyn was the most beautiful; with golden hair and dark brown eyes, she drew the eye and held it. Mary was rounder but had a better sense of humor; her easy laugh encouraged one to join in and made her more approachable.
    William glanced at Mary’s hand. “Not yet married?”
    She looked pleased as she slanted a glance at Lord Erroll. “Not yet. We’ve posted the banns, but Father won’t arrive for another two weeks. We shall have to wait until then.”
    “Which will give us time to shop for a proper gown,” Caitlyn added.
    Robert, elegantly sprawled in a low chair, groaned. “William, please do not get them started. They’ve done nothing but chatter about flowers and rings and lace since they arrived.”
    Caitlyn’s gaze