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“Well…that’s somewhat of the point. They didn’t have to.” Grace took a deep breath, bracing herself for her sister’s reaction. “He and I had a few words when he talked down to me because he thought me a servant and also accused me of trespassing.”

“Oh, Gracie.” Serendipity dropped her head into her hands. “Did you…”

“Of course I did. You know my temper.”

“I think I should fetch more sandwiches,” Felicity said, “and tell Mrs. Flackney we need tea and cakes.”

“And maybe even some brandy,” Merry added.

“At least there has been no sign he tattled to Chance,” Joy said.

“But he may plan to,” Serendipity said. She turned to Felicity. “When you go down for more sandwiches, check the basket on the entryway table. See if there are any messages from the Duke of Wolfebourne. I believe their crest has wolves on it.”

“It does,” Grace said. “We saw his coach when we reached the village.”

“What if Walters already delivered the notes directly to Chance in the library?” Felicity fisted her hands so tightly that her knuckles went white.

Merry went to the door and waved for her to follow. “Between the two of us, we can distract him and see if anything is on his desk.”

Felicity nodded, then hurried out behind her.

Serendipity eyed Grace as if plotting her demise.

“For heaven’s sake, Seri, speak your mind. Your scowling silence is deafening.” Grace poked Joy again. “And if you do not wipe that wicked smile off your face, I shall pinch you.”

“Chance would be thrilled for you to marry a duke,” Joy taunted her.

“The man is betrothed,” Serendipity said. “Has been since he was a young boy. I believe her name is Lady Margaret. Daughter of an earl. Her father is dead, but it’s my understanding that he provided quite well for his widow and only child.”

“The duke is graying at the temples and doesn’t look to be young,” Grace said. “If he has been betrothed to her since he was a young boy, why haven’t they married yet?”

Serendipity assumed the look that struck fear into all the sisters—the sly, plotting look, like a cat toying with its prey until ready to kill it.

“It’s my understanding the Duke of Wolfebourne is not in any hurry to visit the altar.

Perhaps in hopes of Lady Margaret quietly breaking the engagement out of boredom and the wish to get on with her life. ”

“Can he not break it off?” Grace knew Serendipity would know. Her sister’s ability to know the thoughts and whisperings of the ton as if they were her own never ceased to amaze her. “Is the man that chivalrous or simply a coward?” The duke had seemed quite awkward in the shop.

“If he breaks it off, Lady Margaret and her mother could sue him for breach of promise,” Serendipity said.

“While I do not believe Lady Margaret would be so inclined, her mother is known to be quite cold-blooded.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice as if the walls might repeat her secrets.

“I have heard it said Lady Margaret favors another, but her mother insists she marry the duke.”

“Whom does she favor?” Grace whispered.

“ That I have not been able to discover.” Serendipity gave an irritated huff, then frowned at the parcels on the table.

“While we wait for Felicity and Merry to report back, shall we inspect these parcels from the unknown sender? Surely the Mettlestones would never take it upon themselves to choose items for Rorie and Quill and send them on.”

“I did ask them to deliver the banners for the picnic,” Grace said. “Those should have been charged to our account. But I told them we would return another time and choose items for the little ones. Open the one that says a gift. Perhaps that will give us a clue.”

Serendipity untied the twine and tore away the brown wrapping, revealing another layer, a length of gorgeous deep blue silk.

“Lovely,” she said in a leery tone. Ever so gingerly, she unwound the yardage of the fine material until the pair of buff-colored buckskins dropped into her lap.

With a puckered moue, she lifted her head and locked eyes with Grace.

“I believe these are probably meant for you, dear sister.”

Grace stared at the damning breeches and swallowed hard, knowing the gift for exactly what it was—a declaration of war. “It is him. The Duke of Wolfebourne sent everything. Who else would dare send a pair of buckskins in that size to our home?”

“Who, indeed.” Serendipity nodded at the parcels for the children. “But how would he know about Rorie and Quill?”

“We mentioned them in front of him,” Joy said, “and I am quite certain the Mettlestones happily filled him in on all the rest.”

Grace carefully unwrapped the parcel meant for Aurora and revealed the lovely cloth doll, perfect for a little one to cuddle and throw when tiny tempers flared.

Her insides fluttered, and she swallowed hard, fighting to stanch any warming toward the man.

“He chose well for our little niece.” She unwrapped the other parcel and smiled at the brightly painted toy soldiers.

“Quill is a bit young for these, but he should enjoy the colors.”

Serendipity opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when Felicity and Merry burst back into the room and slammed the door shut behind them.

“We intercepted a note to Chance,” Merry said. “From the duke.”

“He is coming to dinner tonight,” Felicity said, her ample bosom heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “And he asked to bring Lady Margaret and Lady Longmorten.”

“Well, he would,” Grace said. “He couldn’t very well accept a dinner invitation and leave them at the lodge, since they are staying with him.” She turned to Serendipity. “Could he? And did you know anything about guests invited to dinner tonight?”

Serendipity chewed on the corner of her bottom lip while scowling at the toys on the table.

“Chance may have mentioned something, but I’ve been so busy planning the picnic that I let whatever he says go in one ear and out the other without pausing in between.

” She shifted her attention to Felicity and Merry.

“What did you do with the duke’s response?

Were you careful to leave it where Chance could find it and reply in time for tonight? ”

Merry gave a smug nod. “Of course. It even looks as though the seal is still intact.”

“How did you manage that?” Serendipity asked, then ducked her head and turned away. “Never mind. I do not wish to know.”

“Who else might he have invited?” Joy asked. “You know Chance. He misses the brotherhood of the club whenever we are in the country.”

“And heaven forbid he should pause in his matchmaking until we return to London.” Grace rubbed at the hairs rising on the back of her neck, a sure sign that tonight could be disastrous.

Serendipity rose and went to the door. “I shall find out and report back.” She arched a brow at Felicity and Merry. “Sandwiches? Tea? Brandy? We shall need fortification to survive whatever our silly brother has in mind—especially since the Duke of Wolfebourne could be a problem for our Gracie.”

“They are on the way,” Felicity replied curtly. “We heard Chance headed for the library and had to make our escape. Mrs. Flackney knows to send them up.”

Grace busied herself with re-wrapping the gifts for Aurora and Quill. If she didn’t do something, she would surely shatter into a thousand nervous little bits, and she simply refused to do that. “Gastric!” She needed her sweet dog. He would calm her.

A thud from the depths of the adjoining bedroom told her he had been lounging on one of the beds again, taking advantage of the household being busy with other things.

She didn’t mind if he slept on hers, and he always cuddled with her at night, but her sisters didn’t share that same opinion and complained about dog hair on their bedclothes.

With a soft woof , he ambled into the parlor, his swaying, short-legged gait making Grace smile. He went straight to her and leaned against her leg, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. No one would ever love her as unconditionally as Gastric.

“There is my good lad.” She rubbed his head and scratched behind his ears, immediately feeling calmer.

“You like him.” Joy meandered closer, a dangerous look in her eyes.

“I do not like him.” Grace settled on the rug and pulled the dog into her lap. “I love him. Gastric makes everything bearable.”

“Not Gastric,” Joy said, “the duke. You like the duke.”

Grace snorted. “I believe that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say.”

“You do like him,” Merry said. “Your cheeks have gone all pink, and you never blush.”

“My color rises when I think of the man because I find him infuriating.” Grace tried to think of anything but the darkly handsome duke and the exciting way his unkempt hair had whipped across his angry eyes when he and she had argued in the meadow.

“What would be wrong with your liking him?” Felicity asked as she settled into a nearby chair. “We promise not to tell Chance or Seri.”

“Seri did say he belonged to another,” Merry said.

“Another that he does not want,” Joy added.

Grace hugged Gastric closer, burying her face in the softness of his floppy brown ears.

She was not accustomed to being the center of attention, and she did not like it one tiny bit.

Her dogs, horses, and the great outdoors mattered most in her world—not some infernal man who needed to learn how to better treat his siblings and find the gumption to break off an engagement if he found it unpalatable.

“My only unresolved issue with the Duke of Wolfebourne is that he has seen me in my adventuring clothes, as have his brother and sister. I know I can trust them to keep my secret, but I am none too sure about him. Hopefully, I convinced him not to tattle to Chance by informing him that to do so would be cowardly.” She found herself smiling without exactly knowing why.

“That made his face go all ruddy that day.”

“The same as it did in the shop?” Joy asked before giving a knowing nod to the other sisters. “That man is already darkly handsome. When his color rises, it enhances his looks quite nicely.”

“Perhaps we should steer him in your direction?” Grace snapped, surprised by a sudden sense of possessiveness over her duke.

Her duke? Ridiculous! She had merely met him first. That was all.

This was most certainly not a case of whoever saw him first got him.

She scratched Gastric under the chin, smiling as the dog’s eyes closed in sheer bliss and his back leg started thumping.

“What say you, Gastric? Should Joy be the next on the chopping block? That would buy me more time.”

“Absolutely not,” Joy said. “You should have seen him,” she told Merry and Felicity. “His eyes never left her the entire time we were in the shop.”

Serendipity breezed back into the room, then held the parlor door open for the pair of footmen bearing trays of tea, brandy, sandwiches, and biscuits. “Thank you, George and Peter. I know Mrs. Flackney instructed you to pour, but I enjoy doing that myself. That will be all.”

The young men nodded and hurried out.

Serendipity closed the door and leaned back against it.

“We indeed have an onslaught of guests for dinner this evening.” Counting off on her fingers, she continued, “The Duke of Wolfebourne, Lady Margaret, Lady Longmorten, the Marquess of Strathyre and his wife, Viscount Blytheston, and Sir Andrew Gransington.”

“An odd number,” Grace said, “Mrs. Flackney must be beside herself.”

“Yes,” Serendipity said. “She came to me with the seating issue. I told her to set an extra place, and we shall say someone we expected cried off on short notice.”

“Will they not want a name?” Grace found these ridiculous games exhausting. It would be so much easier for her to claim to be ill and stay in her chambers with her dogs. “The pups and I would be happy to dine upstairs tonight.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Joy, Felicity, and Merry said in unison. Joy shook a finger at her. “You are next on the chopping block. Not us.”

“Must you phrase it that way?” Serendipity added a generous dollop of brandy to all their teacups.

“It is an apt description.” Grace gently nudged Gastric out of her lap, rose from the floor, and joined the others around the table.

She picked up her cup and lifted it in a toast. “An oath to stick together and protect one another from Chance’s machinations this evening.

” She gave Serendipity a pointed glare. “Even you, Seri. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” each of the sisters sang out.

“Heaven help me,” Grace muttered to herself before taking a hearty sip that was entirely too lacking in brandy, considering the evening that lay ahead.