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to receive him.”
    “It was Glasbury.” Laclere’s normally bright blue eyes wore a dulling concern. “I can’t imagine what he wants, since he and I have not spoken in years. I assume it is about Pen, of course.”
    They chatted about the banquet as they waited, carefully avoiding the subject of Lady Laclere’s designs where a certain bachelor was concerned.
    A visitor soon arrived, but it was not the Earl of Glasbury. Laclere’s brother Dante entered the study and greeted Julian.
    In face and stature Dante was a more refined version of his brother. Where the viscount’s features had a roughly hewn quality, Dante’s were smooth and perfect, as if the sculptor’s rasp had sought to make all the edges subordinate to the total effect.
    Dante raked his fingers through his brown hair in a gesture that spoke befuddlement.
    “I received a letter from Glasbury this morning. He said he was meeting with you and suggested I attend.”
    “The mystery is getting thicker,” Laclere said.
    “More than you know. I saw Charl’s carriage coming as I entered the house.”
    “If he wants to meet with the whole family, he must be planning a dramatic announcement.”
    “Maybe he intends to pursue a divorce,” Dante said. “Rather late for that, I would say.”
    Julian did not say a word. Both these men had long ago accepted his silences, and today that was extremely convenient.
    Charlotte entered, looking much like her older sister with her dark hair and pale skin and middling height. She had always been more slender than Penelope, and her eyes were more worldly and shrewd. It was not that Charlotte was hard in her appearance and outlook, but that Penelope was so soft.
    She explained that she had received a letter similar to Dante’s. “I considered ignoring it, since I cannot imagine why he wants me here. Aren’t such things supposed to be too important for a woman’s participation?”
    “The earl almost has me interested in this business,” Laclere said.
    “Glasbury is many things, dear brother, but interesting is not one of them.” She turned her attention to Dante. “How is Fleur?”
    Dante smiled the smile that brought women to swoons. “Glowing. Serene. I am the one who will age ten years before this child comes.”
    “Do not get into a state so soon. There are still many months for that,” Laclere said. He glanced at the clock on a shelf behind him. “He is late. No doubt that is Glasbury’s way of exercising his precedence.”
    “I hope it is a divorce,” Dante said. “I would like to see Pen completely free of him.”
    Charlotte’s attention slid around the room and came to rest on Julian. “Do you know what this will be about?”
    “I agree with your brother that it probably has to do with your sister.”
    “That is obvious. Do you know just what it has to do with her? Did she write to you from Naples about something that she neglected to tell any of us?”
    “If she did, it was a private correspondence, Charl,” Laclere said. “You have benefited from Hampton’s discretion, so allow Pen to as well. I am sure that none of us wants the whole family knowing all of our legal affairs.”
    Charl retreated, but not before she cast Julian a very sharp and suspicious glance.
    Glasbury arrived just late enough to make his point that others wait for him and not the other way around. He was brought to the study at half past one.
    He was not alone. A man of neat but common appearance accompanied him. This other man stayed near thedoor like a servant and did not advance on the assembled party as the earl did.
    Julian barely received the earl’s acknowledgment during the greetings. However, he did not miss that the nod in his direction was accompanied by a smug smirk that temporarily twisted the earl’s flaccid mouth.
    Julian did not allow himself to react, but a small fury swirled in his head. He hated Glasbury, and not only because of Penelope. The man embodied all of the decadence and callousness that