Page 20 of The Diamond's Absolutely Delicious Downfall

“Right, get under the printing press.”

Tobias ground his teeth and kept folding pamphlets. “I’m in no mood for all of you at present,” drawled Tobias.

“You don’t need to be in the mood. Get under the printing press,” sallied Lord Ajax.

Tobias snorted. “I did exactly what you said. I didn’t get in the way of her dreams.”

“And yet,” Lord Zephyr added, “we’ll still need you to get under the printing press.”

Tobias turned to the massive brothers. “Why?” he demanded. “I’ve let her go so that she can have her titled fool.”

Hector let out a tragically dramatic sigh. “Yes, but you’ve hurt her.”

“Then I cannot win,” Tobias growled.

“Oh, I’m glad you finally understand that,” Hector said merrily.

“There is no winning in this game unless…” Ajax paused and strolled forward, eying the hanging prints drying on their strings.

“Unless what?” Tobias demanded, tempted to stalk to the grog tray and down the decanter of brandy. But fighting these three behemoths drunk would see him dead. He would not even need to climb underneath the printing press.

“Well, you love her, don’t you?” Ajax prompted.

He scowled even as his heart began to pound. “I think you already know it. I think you knew it days ago.”

Hector nodded, smiling in that damned irritating way he had. “Of course, we did, old boy. But we had to have fun with you and make things more interesting.”

“What is life for if it’s not interesting?” Ajax said, folding his arms over his broad chest as he crossed next to the printing press.

“Jolly good instrument, this,” said Zephyr. “I like what you’ve been writing. I think perhaps Westleigh’s going to read some of it out in the House of Lords.”

Tobias groaned. “Can you imagine my writing in the House of Lords?” he drawled. “An American. We fought to get free of you lot.”

“And yet,” Hector declared brightly, “here you are. Now, we know that you’ve been collecting information for President Washington.”

“Not spying,” Ajax clarified. “Or we’d have planted you in the garden next to the roses. No, you’re just letting him know the tone of the country, which is a good thing. We don’t want the Americans getting terribly concerned that we British are going to fall into the sea or something.”

“You should stay here and keep up the good work,” Zephyr said, examining his fingernails.

“I can’t do that,” Tobias gritted. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Why ever not?” Hector asked, feigning heartbreak by clasping his hand to his chest. “You love us, don’t you? You think we’re marvelous? You’d like to be part of our family?”

Begrudgingly, Tobias said, “I do like your family, and I find being with you all is most interesting and far better than being alone. But I need to go back to New York with my sister. Mercy needs me to return.”

And as if saying her name called her into the room, she entered with a book in her hand. “I beg your pardon. You said my name?”

The three men stepped back and eyed her.

Ajax frowned. “You are his sister?”

“Yes,” she said, her black hair still tumbling wildly over her shoulders. But a clean gown was on her frame and she looked refreshed. “He’s coming back to New York with me. The printing business needs help.”

The Duke of Westleigh strolled in then. “Everyone needs help,” the duke said grandly. “I need help. You need help. England needs help. France needs help. The only place seeming perfectly at ease right now is the United States, which is really quite irritating.”

Mercy’s lips twitched. “Yes. I can see how that might be upsetting for someone like you.” She cleared her throat and proceeded to ignore the duke and turned back to Ajax. “Now, I need my brother to come back. I’m glad that he has been able to offer you some help here with his printing press. But he’s wanted in New York.”

“He’s wanted here,” the duke cut in with a strange smile. “I need him.”

“And you are?” Mercy asked, clearly unimpressed.

The duke gave her a bow, twirling his wrist, his eyes glinting. “I am the Duke of Westleigh.”

She blew out a breath. “I see. Another overly important Englishman.”

The duke stared at her for a long moment and then let out a booming laugh. “Exactly. But I have more money than most and—”

“Good for you,” she said swiftly. “There’s a man in New York who’s trying to take over my brother’s business, and he’s doing the most nefarious things.”

“Tobias is going to kill him, isn’t he?” prompted Ajax.

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Zephyr nodded in agreement. “Tobias, you are going to kill the fellow who’s bothering your sister, aren’t you?”

Hector cocked his head to the side. “If not, we could come with you both and make it happen. We’re very good at that sort of thing.”

Tobias groaned and wiped a hand over his face. “It’s tempting. Extremely tempting. George Perkins is a scoundrel.”

“You have a harbor, don’t you?” Ajax said with sudden cheer.

Zephyr clapped his hands together. “You dump tea into it. We could put him in as well.”

Hector beamed. “I’m sure you have a trunk or something. We could fold him so he would fit.”

They were all enjoying themselves far too much, but Tobias wasn’t entirely certain if they were serious or in jest.

Mercy kept swinging her gaze from brother to brother to brother. “Forgive me, you’re discussing murdering someone in the open.”

Hector pursed his lips. “Yes, don’t you?”

Mercy shook her head, looking like she feared she had stumbled into a strange zoological garden. “Not a murder. Battles, perhaps, yes.”

The duke smiled slowly. He let out another deep laugh. “I can see a simple way to solve this dilemma. It will require no transatlantic trips. And no murdering.”

“Oh?” Mercy blurted. “What is that?”

The duke studied her carefully for a long moment. “This George Perkin? He’s bothering you and doesn’t want to leave your printing press alone.”

There was a sort of double entendre about the way he said it.

And Tobias realized that the duke understood exactly what George Perkins had been doing in New York.

“I admire you,” the duke intoned. “For standing up to him and knowing when you needed assistance. Any good general does.”

“I’m not a general,” Mercy huffed.

The duke arched a dark, appreciative brow. “Oh, I think you could lead an army, Miss Miller.”

She drew herself up. “And what is your solution to my problem?”

“Marry me,” he said simply.

“What?” she yelped. “Are you mad?”

The duke’s eyes glinted. “Very possibly,” he said. “But I’m looking for a wife. You would do.”

“Do?” she repeated. “No, thank you.”

He tsked. “Doesn’t everyone want to marry a duke? This is your chance.”

She blew out a derisive breath. “I’d rather dance a jig in hell.”

The duke’s lips curled with appreciation before he said, his voice a low rumble, “We shall see.”

And with that, the duke swung his gaze to Tobias, who was not certain if he should throw a punch at the duke or not.

“My sister is hurt by you at present. How are you going to resolve this issue? Because I brought you here to marry her, and you are not marrying her.”

Tobias jerked to attention. “You didn’t bring me here to marry her. You brought me here for the printing press…”

And then his voice began to die off. Tobias swallowed. No. It couldn’t be.

But the duke was folding his arms across his perfectly tailored chest and giving him a strange look.

“You brought me here to give your sister a good time,” Tobias insisted.

“You did what?” Mercy yelped. “And you agreed to it?”

“It’s been a very strange few weeks here,” Tobias defended. “And if you knew Juliet, you would understand why I agreed to it and why I can no longer let her go.”

“She’s very beautiful,” Mercy agreed. “And she seems to have a very interesting spirit, but you’re coming back to New York. You’re not marrying into a titled family—”

“Even if it makes me happy?” he suddenly asked, the words as much of a shock to him as to her.

Mercy stopped. “Happy? I haven’t seen you happy in years, Tobias.” She blinked back tears. “If she will make you happy, then you must marry her. Could she not come with us?”

“Out of the question,” put in Hector.

“Definitely not,” spat Ajax.

“Absurd,” said Zephyr.

Mercy snorted. “We didn’t ask you.”

Hector narrowed his gaze. “It doesn’t matter if you asked. We have opinions anyway.”

She let out a frustrated sound. “I can see that this house is clearly for the insane.”

But it was also clear that she liked it. She’d never been around people like this or people who talked like this. And Tobias liked it too.

She stared at all of the brothers, even the duke, amazed. “You all like each other, don’t you?”

“Oh yes,” Ajax replied. “We get along like oysters at high tide.”

The truth was he and Mercy loved each other too. But they had not experienced a familial connection the way that these people had.

“Mercy,” Tobias began, turning away from his stacks of pamphlets. “I want to fight for Juliet.”

Mercy raised her chin, locked gazes with him, and declared, “Then you bloody well should. Don’t stop until you get her back.”

“I don’t know where she is at present,” he confessed, even as a wave of relief at his sister’s support crashed through him.

And then the Duchess of Westleigh strode into the room, closely followed by the dowager.

“What is this?” Mercy exclaimed, throwing up her hands yet holding tightly to her book. “A meeting house?”

“It’s Heron House,” the duchess said boldly. “And we don’t let things fall to chance.”

The dowager pushed out from behind the duchess and rushed, “She’s at the theater, dear boy, and you better go and get her. You’ve let me down, young man. Indeed you have. I don’t know how you let Juliet slip away.”

“I told her I loved her,” Tobias defended.

The dowager gave him a slightly gentler look. “Did you? That’s a start. Now, show it.”

Show it. Yes. He would show it.

“Go get her,” the duchess all but commanded. “And then come back and be with your family.”

Mercy stared at the lot of them, clearly uncertain.

“Only if you welcome Mercy too,” Tobias said.

The duke rolled his eyes. “I’ve asked her to marry me. How much more familial can one get?”

The duchess let out a groan. “You haven’t Westleigh, have you?”

The duke waggled his dark brows. “I have. She looks very suitable. We’ll talk about it later, Mama.”

“We shall not,” Mercy declared, utterly flummoxed.

Tobias turned to his sister and took her hands. “They’re all a bit absurd. Don’t worry about it.”

Mercy smiled. “It’s very entertaining. Now go.”

He needed no further urging.