A strained silence filled the room and Anthony grimaced. “I’m sorry, Brand. I’m just a bit worn around the edges.”

“Thanks to Miss Thraxton?”

“She’s the most argumentative female I’ve ever met,” Anthony said honestly, wondering why he also found himself wanting to grin. He ruthlessly suppressed the urge. “She’s very forthright, as is her grandfather.”

“That must be the elderly gentleman I spoke with in the breakfast room. He tried to convince me to purchase two hundred French sheaths.”

Anthony frowned. “Damn it, I thought I had put a stop to that.”

“According to Jenkins, he has been hawking them to the upstairs maids. Apparently they didn’t know exactly what they were and thought they were caps of some sort.” Brand chuckled. “Lord, I would have loved to have seen that.”

“It’s a wonder he hasn’t begun advertising in the Post.”

A soft knock came at the door. At Anthony’s call, his valet entered the room, a coat carefully folded over his thin arm. “Your coat, my lord,” Ledbetter said. “I took the liberty of brushing it.” He deposited it on the edge of the bed, then stepped into the dressing room and came out with a deep red waistcoat.

Made of watered silk, it was heavily embroidered with black and gold thread. Anthony frowned. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“You purchased it last month, while in London.”

“I must have been drunk.” Anthony waved a hand. “Take it away.”

Ledbetter managed a pained smile. “I believe you were a trifle to let, sir. However, it is still a very well made garment.”

“I’ll wear the blue waistcoat.”

“But my lord, this is very fashionable—”

“I don’t want fashion; I want comfort. Besides, I’ll be damned if I wear something that sparkles. I’d feel like a Bartholomew boy.” He glanced at the red waistcoat, then grimaced. “While you are fetching a new one, toss that one in the fire.”

Ledbetter all but gaped. “My lord, the gold threading was very expensive! And the buttons are made of—”

“I don’t care, just get rid of it.”

Brand tsked. “Ledbetter, I apologize for my brother. He has no sense of fashion.”

“No, all of the dandyism in our family settled on you, didn’t it?” Anthony returned, casting a caustic eye over his brother. It was amazing, really, but Brand was never anything other than perfectly dressed. Anthony had seen him at five in the morning, completely besotted with drink, and yet he still managed to appear as if he’d just stepped from his dressing room.

“My lord,” Ledbetter said in an imploring tone, “please do not ask me to destroy this garment. It is far too fine for such an ignoble end.”

“Then give it to one of the footmen.”

“But I—”

“I don’t care what you do with it, just get it out of my wardrobe. It offends me.”

“Yes, my lord.” Ledbetter carefully picked up the waistcoat and disappeared into the dressing room. He returned very shortly with two more waistcoats, one a rather plain blue, the other an extravagant green creation.