Chapter 13
Alistair followed Charlotte into the drawing room, where her brother was in the process of requesting a tea tray. Another man paced before the fireplace, his enormous Roman nose presented in profile. He was dressed in similar fashion as Blakeney — barely respectable — and had used half a bottle of Macassar oil to hold his overlong, dark hair in place. Upon noticing Alistair, the stranger raised his nose and eyed him with the same disdain one generally reserved for a mosquito.
Alistair felt just as welcome, but had no intention of leaving Charlotte’s side.
Apparently realizing none of the men would sit unless she did so first, she perched on the edge of a straight-back chair, doing her best to hide a grimace of pain. Alistair pulled up a nearby chair.
“What is the news?” She
