Her aunt’s eyes twinkled. “Marry an old French peer, murder him with arsenic, and become a gloriously unrepentant widow with a score of younger lovers.”

“Aunt Esther!” She lowered her voice. “Did you truly do away with Monsieur le Comte?”

Her cackles were infectious, making Bronwyn’s lips twitch. “No, darling. I loved the old codger. His poor heart could not handle me, however. We had ten wonderful years together, and I am grateful for every single one of them.”

“Will you marry again?”

Aunt Esther sniffed. “Not if I can help it.”

“Not even if Monsieur de Tremblay gets down on his knees and begs?”

Her aunt winked. “If he’s down on his knees, it’s not to speak, trust me.”

Bronwyn’s entire face went hot before she dissolved into laughter. The woman was truly irreverent. No wonder her mother abhorred her sister. She embodied everything fun about life, while her mother was the opposite. Bronwyn grabbed hold of her aunt’s hand and squeezed, wondering if she was nervous about seeing her sister. The lady didn’t show it, but she had to be feeling something to see a sibling she hadn’t seen in a decade.

That was how Bronwyn had felt when she’d come face-to-face with her half brother, Courtland, for the first time. Her late grandfather had adored his prodigal stepgrandson and that love had turned into a strange fondness by association for Bronwyn, who grew to know her brother through the copious updates and portraits commanded by their grandfather. She doubted it would be the same between the marchioness and her sister, however. There was too much distance and history between them.

“Mama?” she called out as she walked into the familiar foyer. Servants rushed forward to take her cloak and bonnet. “I’ve returned.”

Her younger sister, Florence, walked down the stairs, her pretty face twisted into a sneer. “You are in so much trouble! Mama is in a lather.”

“I told her I was with Ravenna in Kettering.” Yet another white lie to placate her mother and to cover up her travels.

Florence bared her teeth in a fake grin. “Stinson went to Kettering, only to return and report that you were not there. So where have you been all this time, sister dear?”

Drat and botheration! She’d hoped to be back in London much sooner, and also before her very controlling mother sent her brother after her.

“I—” Her brain went blank.

“She’s been with me in Paris,” Aunt Esther supplied from behind her.

Florence’s eyes rounded as they fell on their aunt for the first time. She wouldn’t have known about their mother’s sister or the fact that they were twins. Their mother had sworn Bronwyn to secrecy. “Who are you?” she whispered.

“I’m your aunt Esther. You’ve grown into such a beautiful girl.”