Everton took in the chaos still ensuing around them. It had been an exciting day in Parliament. Lord Rayleigh hadn’t left the floor, but someone had joined him. They waved their arms agitatedly as they spoke to each other.

Mr. Broadcreek.

“Nate,” Everton called his soon-to-be brother-in-law by name. The look on Nate’s face was worth the breach in etiquette. “I wonder if you would join me downstairs for a moment.”

Nate followed his eyes until they landed on Mr. Broadcreek. A grim smile rose to his lips. “That is the first sensible thing you have said all day. I would be glad to join you.”

Chapter 27

With a nod to Lord Rayleigh, Everton and Nate each took hold of one of Mr. Broadcreek’s elbows as if they had decided on it beforehand. Everton gave Lord Rayleigh a winning smile. “Pardon us while we have a quick word with your friend.” Lord Rayleigh sputtered, but after eyeing Nate’s thick shoulders, he clamped his mouth shut. Everton hadn’t realized the man was that intelligent.

Mr. Broadcreek wriggled his arms and tried to backpedal with his feet. But it was no use. He was no match for the pair of them. Mr. Broadcreek had deceived the wrong man with that note of his today. Wrong men. Mr. Broadcreek had deceived the wrong men.

They propelled Mr. Broadcreek out of the room, despite his legs flailing backwards and a look of supplication to Lord Rayleigh. Once out of the hall, Everton pulled the note he had received that morning out of his pocket. “I believe this must be your handwriting, Mr. Broadcreek.”

Mr. Broadcreek sputtered. “I didn’t write that. I’m not sure what you are talking about.”

“Should we remove him from the building before we rough him up or simply start now?” Everton asked Nate.

Nate shrugged. “I’m happy to rough up anyone, anywhere.” He glanced pointedly at Everton’s still-swollen face. “As you are well aware.”

Mr. Broadcreek’s eyes widened. “It’s true—I didn’t write it! Mr. Daniels did . . . upon my request.”

“Sounds like we should remove ourselves from company first,” Everton said, and Nate nodded his head.

They pushed Mr. Broadcreek out the nearest door and half dragged him away from the building. “I suggest we head away from Westminster Abbey,” Nate said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. “This shouldn’t be done in sight of a church.”

Mr. Broadcreek yelped, but no one seemed interested in interrupting Everton and Nate. They made quite a striking figure together. Everton could get used to having family again.

He and Nate seemed to have the same destination in mind—an alleyway behind one of the buildings in front of them.

“Did you think Miss Barton would marry you if you could convince Parliament that she wasn’t fit to run a company without a man?”

“I didn’t say anything in Parliament.” His voice rose an octave. “The House of Lords was concerned about her. You can’t blame that on me.”

“What do you think, Nate?” For the first time, Nate didn’t wince when Everton used his Christian name. Apparently when two men were about to pound the living daylights out of a man, Christian names were appropriate. He would have to remember that. “Can we blame him?”