“And good day to you, too, Great-Aunt,” he said evenly, pecking her on the cheek. “We replaced you with Aunt Miriam.”

“Miriam! That fool woman couldn’t chaperone a baby in a crib. Better to have no chaperone than that flibbertigibbet fluttering about. I can’t believe the state in which I find this household. You’ve let my apartments out. Belinda is missing. Blanche has become a spinster. Betsy is acting the most dreadful hoyden, and Birdie . . . well she’s a little angel, now aren’t you, my love?”

“You do know the girls are sitting right here, Great-Aunt?” West asked.

She sniffed. “They should hear it from someone. Did you bring Belinda back? Foolish, foolish child. Where did she run off to?”

“Yes, is Belinda all right?” Blanche asked, her eyes filled with worry.

“I’m very happy to report that Miss Beaton and I retrieved Belinda from a public coaching inn and she’s unharmed, except for a lightly sprained ankle. The doctor will be here any moment. She’s resting in bed.”

“I wouldn’t call a sprained ankle unharmed,” Blanche said. “Poor thing. I don’t understand any of this. Betsy won’t tell me anything. Which is completely unlike you, Bets, you love tattling on Belinda.”

“Not this time,” Betsy said, ducking her head down. “I’ll let someone else break the news to you.”

“What news?”

“Yes, what news, Westbury?” Great-Aunt Hermione asked.

West sat down in the chair opposite Blanche and cleared his throat. “There’s been an . . . unfortunate happening. Your sister was abducted by Lord Laxton.”

“What?” Blanche exclaimed. “How can this be! I don’t understand.”

“She wasn’t abducted, she left with him because she thought he loved her, stupid goose,” Betsy said. “I could have told her that it was all a load of lies, but she didn’t confide in me, now did she?”

Her words were tough, though West could tell that she was extremely worried about her twin sister.

“Why did she think he was in love with her?” Blanche asked.

“He’d been writing letters to her. Filled with lies, I’m afraid,” West explained.

“Is she . . .” Blanche clutched a hand to the lace at her throat. “Is she ruined?”

“She is not.”

“Oh, thank heavens.” The ladies let out sighs of relief.

“Your sister is very brave. When she discovered his nefarious plan, she beat him over the head with her reticule and jumped from the carriage.”

“She did?” Betsy gazed at him incredulously. “That doesn’t sound like Belinda. I didn’t think she had it in her.”

“Laxton tore her special lace fichu and that was, apparently, the final straw. We’re very lucky that she had the fortitude to escape him. Laxton seeks revenge on me. I didn’t tell you this, Blanche, and I should have. I overheard Laxton slandering you most grievously and I took matters into my own fists and gave him a good thrashing.”