"We weren't doing anything wrong," Penelope shrieked.
"We had only gone forward to get a better view," Philip cried.
"Marius, you won't let him split them up and send Phil away, will you?" Henry implored, hurling herself across the room and clinging to her husband's arm.
Miss Manford sniffed rather loudly against her handkerchief.
"Really, your Grace, I must take the blame for the whole episode," Ridley said earnestly and gallantly.
Eversleigh covered his wife's hand with his own as it rested on his arm and fixed a languid glance on his secretary. "That is extraordinarily noble of you, James," he said. "But might I ask for what you are assuming the blame?"
"Your Grace…"
"Marius…"
Sniff.
"But we didn't…"
The duke held up a silencing hand. "I believe only one person in this room answers to the name of James," he pointed out with calm common sense.
"Your Grace," Ridley began, "Miss Manford had agreed to take Miss Penelope and Master Philip to the balloon ascent on Richmond Hill this afternoon. I agreed to accompany them, as this is one of my days off."
"Quite so," Eversleigh agreed, idly fondling Henry's fingers beneath his hand.
"We took the gig, your Grace. But there was such a large crowd of people there that we could not hope to get close. Miss Manford urged her charges to stay close to the gig and not to wander away. We tried to persuade them that when the balloon became inflated and airborne, we would have a splendid view of it."
"But we couldn't see a thing!" Penelope shrieked. "Just bonnets and parasols and carriages and things."
"I believe you," her brother-in-law said unsympathetically. "James?"
"They wandered away, your Grace, and soon we lost them completely. Miss Manford and I searched the area until the last carriage had left and finally returned here in the desperate hope that they would have found their way home.".
Miss Manford sniffed again.
"We weren't even lost," Philip chimed in indignantly. "Peter…"
"Thank you, dear boy," the duke said. "Perhaps someone would tell me how you did get home. Tallant?"
"I was watching with my wife and her sister, Eversleigh," Sir Peter began, glad of the renewed chance to air his grievance, "when what did I see but my own brother and sister, quite unchaperoned, making spectacles of themselves."
Eversleigh's brows rose in alarm. "I feel for you!" he said.
"Yes, indeed," Sir Peter continued, "they had actually climbed under the cordon and were interfering with the balloon workers."
"We were only asking Penelope began, but she was quelled by a glance from her older brother.
"I had to face the indignity, Eversleigh, of crawling under the rope myself and, in full view of half the ton, gathering these two together and escorting them away. I brought them home immediately."
"But, Marius, he did not give a thought to poor Manny and Mr. Ridley," Henry complained, staring wide-eyed into her husband's face.
Eversleigh squeezed her hand, but continued to look politely at his brother-in-law.
"I had given Miss Manford notice before she came here, Eversleigh," Sir Peter stated, aggrieved. "Now perhaps you will see for yourself that she is totally incapable of controlling the twins and quite incompetent as a governess."
"Perhaps I shall," Eversleigh agreed soothingly.
"It is time Philip was sent away to Eton," Sir Peter continued. "I shall begin to make arrangements immediately. Penelope must have a stricter governess, one who will train her to be a lady. You have only to look at Henrietta to see how incapable Miss Manford is of accomplishing that goal. I shall look to it, Eversleigh."
Eversleigh's fingers had tightened imperceptibly around Henry's. His gaze, under the half-closed lids, sharpened. "Penny," he said pleasantly, "perhaps you would help Miss Manford to her room? I believe a rest before dinner would be in order. James, you will not wish to waste what is left of your day off standing around here. You may take yourself off, dear boy. Phil, you may return those two volumes that are on the mantel to the library. oh, and wait for me there, will you?"
Within seconds, only three people were left in the room. "Have a seat, Tallant," Eversleigh directed, leading his wife to a sofa and seating himself beside her. He still held her hand on his arm. "Now," he said, fixing his brother-in-law with a sleepy stare, "I believe you owe her Grace an apology, Tallant?"
"What?"
"Forgive me," the duke continued, "perhaps in all the excitement of the last few minutes my hearing became defective. I thought I heard you declare publicly that my wife is not a lady."
Sir Peter's jaw dropped. "Those were not quite my words," he said, "but we all know that Henrietta is not exactly everyone's ideal image of a lady of quality."
"She is mine," Eversleigh replied softly.
Henry stole a startled look at his hard profile. She could hardly believe her ears. All her life she had been labeled a tomboy. Her family had always lamented, if in a loving way, her lack of feminine charms. Could the very correct and sophisticated Duke of Eversleigh be seriously claiming that she was his ideal lady? But of course he was not. He was merely a proud man protecting the honor of his property. She sighed.
"I was not offended, Marius," she said, pulling her hand away from his at last. In fact, I would hate to be the typical lady. I should have to plan the pianoforte and sing and embroider and simper. Ugh!"
"Tallant?" Eversleigh asked, momentarily ignoring his wife.
"Well, of course I am sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings," Sir Peter blustered. "I was merely using a brother's privilege of speaking his mind."
"Ah," said Eversleigh, "was that what you were doing too when you planned Eton for Philip and a new governess for Penelope?"
"I am their legal guardian," Sir Peter said stiffly. "I have a responsibility to them."
"Ah, but it is a responsibility that you largely abdicated to me when we made an agreement prior to my marriage," the duke replied.
"It seems that you did not realize what a burden that task might be," Sir Peter commented.
"Tallant," Eversleigh said, raising his quizzing glass and viewing the other lazily through it, "as I see it, there is room for only one master in my home. It may be unreasonable of me, my dear fellow, but I have always insisted that that master be me. Now, I really cannot have you storm into my house when I am not even present and upset my wife, attempt to dismiss my employees, and try to organize the lives of children whom you gave into my charge. I believe I make myself clear?"
"Am I then to stand idly by while my brother and sister frolic around London without restraint and make perfect asses of themselves?" Sir Peter asked, shaking with anger.
"Ah, but you see, my dear fellow," Eversleigh replied, "they were not without chaperonage, had you not snatched them away. And are children to be labeled asses merely because they behave as children?"
Sir Peter rose to his feet. "I felt rather sorry for you, Eversleigh," he said, "when you paid your addresses to Henrietta without any close acquaintance with her. I thought you would soon discover your mistake. Now I believe you have gained only what you deserve."
"Quite so," Eversleigh agreed amiably. "I believe you might be right, dear fellow."
The "dear fellow" stormed out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the growls of Brutus, who was still stretched across the doorway of the room.