“Alice is your sister?” Ethan managed, mental gears whizzing. If Benjamin Hazlit was Alice Portman’s brother, then why weren’t their last names the same? By God, if Alice were married. His mood halted mid-plunge and reversed itself: she might be widowed…

“My younger sister.” Hazlit’s smile was faintly mocking. “I am reporting for inspection, because we haven’t seen each other for some weeks. My apologies for not sending word in advance, but I was in the neighborhood. You have a lovely estate, at least what I’ve seen of it, and Alice says the house is just as pretty.”

“My thanks,” Ethan said, recovering a few of his wits. “Has Al—Miss Portman offered you something to drink?”

Alice smiled at him, and this Alice—who laughed, who welcomed a brother much respected in Polite Society—bore little resemblance to the woman who’d clung to Ethan beneath the maple tree.

“We were waiting for you, Mr. Grey,” she said. “I apologize for not warning you, but Benjamin tends to show up for an unannounced call whenever I change positions. It’s always a pleasant surprise to see him.”

There was a plea in her smile, for forbearance, maybe. She hadn’t invited her brother here and probably wasn’t entirely glad to see the man. And for Alice—Ethan knew this about her—there would always be something unpleasant about any surprise.

“Family should always be welcome,” Ethan said. “Let me ring for drinks. Something chilled might do. Lemonade?”

He could be a creditable host, and he slipped into the role by dint of will. Lunch passed pleasantly, with Hazlit quizzing the boys as if Alice were the charge and they the supervisors.

Joshua grinned at his governess. “If you forget our story, Miss Portman, we’ll make you go to bed without supper.”

“If you send her to bed without supper,” Hazlit said, “she might be cranky the next day. Out of sorts, grouchy—you know what I mean?”

“Miss Portman is never out of sorts,” Jeremiah said, all seriousness. “She says moods and vapors do not become a lady whose task is as important as hers.”

“And that important task would be?” Ethan gestured to the footman to top off everyone’s glass of lemonade.

“Keeping us out of trouble,” Joshua said. “It’s a lot of work, Papa.”

“I can imagine. Shall we take our drinks to the terrace so the kitchen can get to the work of tidying up?”

“It’s my turn!” Joshua bumped his brother aside with a stout application of a pointy little elbow to a fraternal rib, and stood behind Alice’s chair. She rose and waited while Joshua wrestled the chair back.

When the boys had departed for the next installment of Waterloo, the adults enjoyed the shaded end of the terrace.

“I think I’ll go fetch a hat,” Alice said. “I might want to see this famous battle site, but the sun is quite fierce.” The men stood, and Ethan turned to see Hazlit regarding him with the same speculation Ethan was aiming at his guest.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “The point of your sortie wasn’t to fawn over your sister, though you get marks for being a good brother. What do you want to know?”

Hazlit saluted with his drink. “You share your brother’s gift for plain speaking, which suits me far better than pettifogging inanities. Alice seems happy here.”

“Provided she looks after my children, there is no reason why she can’t be happy here. But we are not addressing your primary concern, are we?”

“We are not,” Hazlit conceded. “Alice may rejoin us at any time, so let me be blunt.” When Ethan said nothing, Hazlit’s near-smile made another fleeting appearance. “It’s like this, Grey. None of us, save my sister Avis, who rusticates in Cumbria, uses our actual family name. Hazlit and Portman hang somewhere nearby on the family tree, but several branches back.”

“And you resort to this subterfuge, why?” Ethan took a slow sip of his drink, not sure he wanted an honest answer but damned certain he’d extract one.

“My sisters were involved in a scandal some twelve years ago,” Hazlit said. “They were not to blame, and they’ve lived exemplary lives ever since. Avis adjusted by burying herself at the family seat and becoming what Wilhelm and I call an instant spinster, though she was quite young at the time. Alice, who was even younger, adjusted by becoming utterly independent. She will not take one penny of her family money, and believe me, there is ample.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Old scandals were the worst kind. They tended to rise up and sink their teeth into one’s present life, and not let go until a high price had been paid. And yet, it made sense. Alice’s bodily symptoms were evidence of a kind of haunting, and nothing haunted like a brutal scandal.

Hazlit swirled his drink. “I’d like your word, if the details of Alice’s past come out, you won’t cut her loose over it without giving me time to step in.”

A bad scandal indeed. “You assume I would cut her loose. I myself have been on the receiving end of more than one scandal.”

“One doesn’t want to presume,” Hazlit said. “And your most notable scandal involved the woman whom you chose to be the mother of your children.”

Hardly. “Your tact is appreciated. My wife was a tramp, which is exactly what I should have expected when I married my mistress, isn’t it?”

Hazlit shrugged. “Not if she loved you. Women are complicated. They can be more loyal than Wellington’s foot soldiers, when they choose.”

Society’s most discreet investigator would need tact like that. “She did not choose, and then too, your sister has condescended to find employment in my household, when my antecedents are worse than suspect.”

“Alice is the last person to hold bastardy against anyone.” Hazlit snorted. “Her last charge, Priscilla, was not legitimate. There were rumors that my half brother was not legitimate.”

“And will he be calling upon my governess unannounced as well?”

“Unannounced gives a man clues he wouldn’t have otherwise been able to gather.”

“Such as?”

Hazlit gave his host a measuring glance. “Such as you are too much of gentleman to eavesdrop, and you are enough of a papa to spend a summer morning in the stables with your sons. Beneath your tailored attire, you have the muscles of a yeoman, which suggests you are not prone to gentlemanly idleness. Your children are welcome at your table and even welcome to speak at table. Your staff is competent, your grounds well maintained, and you call my sister Alice, which means she’s given you that honor.”

“It is a rare honor?” Ethan heard himself ask.

“Outside of family? Your brother Nicholas; Matthew Belmont; Thomas, Baron Sutcliffe, by virtue of his relationship as Priscilla’s uncle; and now… you.”

The other three were married. Happily married.

“I will not abuse the privilege,” Ethan said. “Have you more questions for me?”

“What happened to her predecessor?”

An insightful, uncomfortable question. “As to that…” Ethan ran a hand through his hair and turned to survey his back gardens. “I chose poorly, and my sons paid the price. His name was Harold, tall, blond, the epitome of the earnest English scholar, devoted to his calling. I’m not sure what the boys learned from him, except to fear the birch rod, and me.”

“How long was he here?”

“Since the first of the year,” Ethan said. “Your sister is a lovely change of approach for them, and though I do trust her, I have no intention of allowing anybody such unbridled control of my children again.”

“That’s all you can do,” Hazlit said, sympathy in his eyes. “You vow to be vigilant and never let it happen again, and you pray until God must go deaf from your ceaseless begging.”

Ethan regarded him at some length. Such an invitation was not to be declined.

“It must have been a very bad scandal,” Ethan said. “Is this how Alice was injured?”

“It is. Her injury doesn’t seem to be bothering her though.”

“Her hip gives out on her if she takes a bad step,” Ethan said, pouring them both more lemonade. “Then it pains her for a while. And the breathing spells? You know she had two while at Belle Maison?”

“She didn’t say,” Hazlit said slowly, new respect in his eyes at this confidence. “Change can bring them on, situations that feel out of control, sudden frights.”

“So she controls children, and thus orders her universe,” Ethan said. It was a sound strategy. Ethan himself controlled businesses, which were probably more predictable than children.

Hazlit looked… disgruntled. “You notice things.”

Alice told him things, too, which he wasn’t about to admit to her brother. “From a man of your calling, this is a fine compliment.”

“It is. This is a kind of compliment too, Mr. Grey: if you cause my sister any substantial distress, by being difficult to work for, by being a sorry excuse for a parent, by so much as looking at her with that well-honed imitation of patrician condescension, I will meet you. Your choice of weapons.”

Despite an affable tone, there was a thread of steel in Hazlit’s dark eyes. Ethan gave him credit for rattling a loud sword.

“She has my children in her care, Hazlit. I will be as demanding, sorry, or condescending as I must be to ensure they are safe with her. I appreciate your protectiveness, but Alice is your grown sister, whereas Jeremiah and Joshua are my little children.”

Hazlit’s half smile bloomed into the complete version, illuminating his face with a startling charm. When he smiled, he looked more like Alice and less like some avenging Saracen warrior masquerading in civilized attire.

“We understand each other, Mr. Grey. Now let’s rehearse our chitchat, because no hat could take this long to tie. How is Wee Nick?”

“Managing,” Ethan said. “He will do a good job by the title, and he’s chosen the right countess, but he dreads all the Parliamentary nonsense.”

“He’ll take to it well enough when he sees his first bill pass,” Hazlit said. “But you’d better get your brother George on a shorter leash. He’s cutting a bit of a left-handed swath.”

“We were hoping he’d take ship, but Nick ignores the problem,” Ethan replied. “Perhaps I should take it on.”

“Somebody should try,” Hazlit said. “George is a good soul, not out to harm anybody, but the parsons get to screaming, and the newspapers want a sensation, and next thing you know, somebody’s harmless brother is swinging for what goes on every day in many a great house, dormitory, or back alley.”

“You needn’t preach to me. I’ll talk to him.”

Hazlit turned, his expression softening. “Here comes my dearest Alice. Sister, I am taking my leave of you. Mr. Grey clearly appreciates your talents and will be a biddable employer. Kiss me now, and write often.”

They didn’t just kiss the air beside each other’s cheeks. Hazlit kissed his sister’s cheeks, and then her forehead, but he held her close even a moment after that, the expression on his face oddly pained.

“Thank you for coming, Ben,” Alice said, and Ethan would have sworn her eyes were getting misty. He wasn’t about to thank Hazlit for leaving him with a teary female, for pity’s sake.

“Be well, Allie. I’m here if you need me.”

She nodded her thanks and let him step back. He bowed slightly to Ethan then retreated, his pace, to Ethan’s eye, a little hasty. Alice stood beside Ethan, silent, until her brother disappeared into the stables. A funny little gulp of breath gave her away.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Ethan spun her gently by the shoulders and wrapped her in an embrace. “He’s only going to London, and you can have him out any time.”

“I m-miss him,” Alice said miserably. “He’s such a good brother, and I pushed him away, and this is all we have, and it’s my fault.”

“Hush. Brothers understand these things, and you have more with your Benjamin than I do with my younger brothers or sisters.”

“I miss Avie too,” Alice watered on. “I miss her so much. I haven’t seen her for five years, and that’s my fault too.”

“You are a terrible person,” Ethan assured her gently. “An awful sister and a disgrace of a governess. You should be banned by royal decree. Children should see you held up as a bad example, except my children, of course, and your name should replace Beelzebub’s as the imp of Satan. New sins should be named after you…”

He felt her shoulders twitch, and then she was aiming a soft, damp smile at him.

“Thank you.” When she should have stepped back, she bundled back in against his shoulder. “I’m all right until I see them, Ben or Vim, and then I go completely to pieces, but I miss them too.”