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the earmarks of one of Audrey’s schemes. Audrey! That was it. The moment her sister returned, Horatia would consult her. She wouldn’t tell her what she intended to do, but she could solicit advice on how to bribe a footman from Lucien’s household to divulge the Marquess’s nightly activities and the places where he could be found.
    For the first time in days, Horatia smiled with glee.

Chapter Five
    Lucien entered his townhouse on Half Moon Street in a rage, his jaw clenched and aching. Today had been a disaster. He’d let himself lose control, get too close, and he’d enjoyed every minute of it.
    If it hadn’t been for those warm brown eyes of hers, pleading for his kisses…
    The door to the servants’ quarters opened and his valet, Felix, emerged with a stack of freshly pressed white shirts in his arms.
    “Felix, I’m going out tonight. Ready my things.”
    The valet nodded and hurried to Lucien’s room. Lucien’s hands twitched, feeling the urge to break something. He stormed into the drawing room and grabbed the first thing within reach, an expensive oriental vase. He arced his arm and—
    “I say, Lucien, you all right?”
    He spied his brother, Lawrence, a few feet behind him in the open doorway. Except for the fact he was five years younger, he was a mirror image of Lucien. Anger still boiling deep inside him like a dormant volcano, Lucien now aimed the vase at his meddlesome brother.
    Lawrence stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “If you break that, mother will be most upset. She spent a fortune getting that back from Shanghai for you. To hear her tell it, she hired an entire caravan of elephants like Hannibal for part of the journey.”
    With a snarl, he set the vase back down on the cherrywood side table and glowered at his smirking brother.
    “I thought you were in France.”
    His brother gave a casual shrug. “I came back with Avery.”
    “Have you obtained lodgings?”
    “Not as of yet.”
    “Then you must stay here,” Lucien replied, but his heart wasn’t in the gesture. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain, not even his family. Was it so bad to want some peace and quiet to sort out the messy tangle of emotions that plagued him?
    His brother flicked an invisible speck of dust off his coat sleeve. “I’m only here for a few days and I wouldn’t dare to impose, especially since you seem to be having rather heated issues with your décor.” Lawrence was well known for his sarcasm. Lucien had had words, and more than words with him over such remarks when they’d been younger.
    “Just because we are no longer children doesn’t mean I won’t box your ears.”
    “You could try.”
    Lucien swung his fist good-naturedly at his brother, who danced back a step. They laughed, and Lucien found his anger deflated. God bless Lawrence.
    “If you don’t wish to stay the night, what brings you here?” Lucien asked. “I thought perhaps you’d go straight to mother.” A terrible thought occurred to him. “She isn’t here is she?”
    Lucien half-expected the formidable Lady Rochester to explode out of a closet. His mother had on more than one occasion hidden herself to eavesdrop on her offspring, only to reveal her presence suddenly and scare the bloody hell out of her children. Linus, Lucien’s youngest brother, refused to shut the closet doors in his bedchamber for that very reason.
    She did so out of love of course. It was even a family joke. She’d been so besotted with their father that she’d insisted on naming every child with a name starting with L for love. Therefore they’d been named Lucien, Lawrence, Linus and Lysandra. Avery had been the only exception to their mother’s naming scheme. He looked just like their father and so bore the same name as him. The other Russells favored their mother in looks.
    “Mother’s in Kent,” Lawrence said. “She sent word to you that she wanted to spend Christmas at home. Did you not get the letter?” Lawrence seemed genuinely