That earned him a smile, at least. “I left one for Coll, as well, but it was still there this morning—or at least it was until I caught that valet of yours wiping crumbs from his shirt. Coll hasn’t been back. So he didn’t escort Amy—Amelia-Rose—for coffee. And since Mrs. Baxter hasn’t sent over a note complaining about that fact, I am willing to surmise that someone else did escort her daughter.”
“Clever lass. Coll’s still settling in,” he said, not knowing whether he was lying or not. “He’ll come around.”
“Amelia-Rose could be a good match for him. She’s very witty, though I think she tries not to be.”
“Why is that?” he asked, his interest immediately snared.
“Well, I wasn’t out last Season, but I heard that she … wasn’t scandalous, really, but spoke a bit boldly. For a lady. I haven’t asked her about it, of course. I have noticed, though, that she’s very cautious with her speech, especially in front of men. There are a few of us that she speaks with more freely, and she is delightful.”
Amelia-Rose did sound like a perfect match for Coll—if he’d been looking for a lass who could counter his recklessness and wouldn’t tolerate his heavy-handedness. Interesting that his brother would say the woman she’d been attempting to be, and had failed at being last night, would suit him better.
His sister continued to look at him, so he nodded. “They just need to have a chat where half of London isnae staring at them.”
“I hope so, for his sake. For Aldriss Park’s sake. I’ve always wanted to go back there. I was nine months old, I’m told, when Mama and I left.” She retrieved her hand and placed it over her heart. “I did not know about this agreement between Mama and Father. The first I heard of it was after we had dinner to celebrate the engagement. I found Mama writing a letter, and she looked up at me and smiled, and she had tears in her eyes. She said, ‘That stubborn old man has to come here now. And your brothers, too. We finally get our boys back, Eloise.’”
That was interesting, and he put it in the back of his mind where he could contemplate it more closely later. He damned well didn’t have time to unravel any of it now. “That letter wasnae quite so joyous for us,” he countered. “Da swears it’s killed him, and…” Niall trailed off at the alarmed look on her face.
“You weren’t just jesting about that? I thought you were trying to point out how little you all wanted to be dragged down here.”
“I’d nae put too much stock in Da turning up his toes, piuthar,” he went on. “I’ve killed him twice all on my own, and between Coll and Aden he’s taken his last breath at least a dozen times.”
Her expression eased a little. “How did you kill him, then?”
He grinned, relieved that he hadn’t made her dislike him. They were family, but barely acquaintances at the same time. “I jumped off the roof of Aldriss into a snowbank when I was sixteen,” he admitted. “And I’m nae telling ye the other one because ye’re a lass and have delicate sensibilities.” And because Lord Marmont had sworn to cut off his balls if anyone ever breathed a word about Niall’s escapade with Delilah MacDougall, the marquis’s youngest daughter. Niall remained rather fond of his balls, and he preferred to keep them just where they were.
Eloise sighed. “I wish I’d been there to see that,” she said, clearly not reading his mind, thank Saint Andrew. “Father wrote me on occasion, but he never really talked about anything scandalous. Mostly sheep and lambs, and sometimes how proud he was of one or all of you.” Eloise leaned forward a little. “Please don’t ever tell him I let Mama read his letters. I think the first letter she sent him directly in seventeen years was the one that brought you down here.”
“I’d nae tell. Da swore up and down he’d nae ever communicate with her again, in writing, in person, or as a spirit.” Coll and Aden would never believe their father had written to Eloise, even, given Lord Aldriss’s dislike of “civilized extravagances” like reading and writing. “Ye said Lady Aldriss wanted someaught from me?”
“Oh, yes. I forgot. She wants to know where Coll is, how his rendezvous went, and whether you met any likely young ladies in the park.”
And there he was again, standing in the middle, mending the angry edges back together. Whether he liked the position or not, for the moment, at least, he needed to remain there—right in the middle. They had too much to lose for him to step aside.
“I’d appreciate if ye’d tell the countess Coll’s nae back yet from seeing Amelia-Rose, Aden and I are going to familiarize ourselves with Mayfair, and I met a large herd of lasses but couldnae tell ye any of their names to save my life.”
She nodded. “This time.” Eloise held up one finger. “This time only. I don’t make a habit of lying.”
He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I dunnae, either. Now. What’s a barouche, do ye have one here, and where would a lad go hereabouts if he wanted to punch someone?”
“I … Good heavens. A barouche is a large, open-topped vehicle, yes, we have one here, and I have no idea about the other thing. Gentleman Jackson’s is the only boxing establishment of which I’m aware. Smythe could give you the address, I’m certain.”
“That’s a beginning, then. Thank ye.” Niall turned around to open Aden’s door as Oscar arrived with a heaping tray of food.
“But you cannot have the barouche today, if that’s what you’re asking,” Eloise went on. “Matthew and I are taking it to a picnic this afternoon.”
Niall faced her again. “Lady Margaret’s alfresco fete?” he asked.
“Yes! How did you—”
“I reckon I need another favor, then.” He explained about Amelia-Rose’s request for an escort and a barouche, but left out the bit where she’d more or less threatened to bring down his already tottering stack of half-truths if he didn’t comply. The lass had outmaneuvered him, and he could appreciate that. Coll likely wouldn’t, but Coll wasn’t there.
“Of course you may join us,” Eloise said, smiling. “This is why I wanted my brothers about.”
“To join ye on picnics?”
“To be here. To disturb my plans and frown at the unacceptable men of my acquaintance.”
Niall frowned. “Are ye acquainted with any unacceptable men?”
She laughed. “Oh, yes! That frown, right there.”
If she expected him to go on picnics every day she was daft, but he didn’t say that part aloud. Instead he returned to Aden’s bedchamber to catch his brother up in more detail about the theater, coffee, their mother’s threats, and the picnic. Again he left out the devious bits, telling himself that there wasn’t time for all that now. He also left out the exact color of Amelia-Rose’s eyes, and the way her hair turned golden in the sunlight, because he was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to notice those things.
“Amelia-Rose Baxter?” Aden repeated, in between pulling on his boots and devouring what looked like an entire damned chicken. “That’s a mouthful.”
“Aye. So’s that food. I’ve nae seen much of it since I got to London.”