He opened the door to the gold salon and strode inside. Lucy was at the window staring across the front lawn. Cassandra was perched on the settee near the fireplace.

“Garrett,” Lucy said, spinning around. “Don’t you look handsome today?”

He glanced down at what he was wearing. Gray trousers, white shirt and cravat, black boots, burgundy waistcoat. Nothing particularly different from any other day. “Thank you, Lucy.”

He made his way over and kissed her cheek. Then he made his way to Cassandra and leaned to do the same.

“How are you holding up?” he whispered to Cassandra. “Nerves not getting the best of you, I hope.”

She smiled and shook her head softly. “No. I’m quite fine.”

“Excellent.” He returned her smile before turning back to Lucy. “Now, what is it the two of you wanted to see me about? I can only imagine. Please tell me it has nothing to do with your Mrs. Bunbury plot. I refuse to be a part of it.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and strode toward him. “It’s nothing to do with that. We just wondered where you’d got off to last night.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes on his cousin. Did they know? No. They couldn’t possibly.

“‘Off to last night’?” he repeated, shoving his hands in his pockets in his best effort to appear casual.

“Yes, we didn’t see you at the ball after a bit. We were looking for you,” Cassandra added.

“I had a great deal to drink last night. Thanks to your brother. I believe I retired earlier than usual.”

“Ah, so you went to bed?” Lucy prodded.

“Yes, after a bit,” he replied.

“What were you doing before that?” Lucy asked.

Cassandra’s cheeks flamed bright pink. Oh, bloody hell. They knew something.

“I was…” He took a breath. “I went to the upstairs drawing room. I was looking at the portraits.”

“Looking at the portraits in the upstairs drawing room?” Lucy repeated, making “looking at the portraits” sound positively lascivious.

“Yes. I was quite fascinated by them.” Wasn’t it time to leave for the picnic? He tugged at his cravat. It was hot in here. He needed fresh air.

“Fascinated by the portraits?” Lucy echoed.

He opened his mouth to speak but Cassandra interrupted. “Were you with Mrs. Langford last night?”

His eyebrows shot up. Holy Christ, is that what they thought? “What exactly are you asking, Cassandra?”

Cassandra’s cheeks turned pinker. “I mean, were you, were you looking at the portraits with her?”

“No.”

“Who were you looking at the portraits with?” Lucy countered.

Garrett narrowed his eyes on both of them. “Why are you two so interested in what I was up to last night?” If they knew what he’d actually been doing, and with whom, they wouldn’t be asking these questions. He was quite safe.