“Phelan,” Cam said, looking up with an easy smile, “have you come to see the timber yard?”

“Thank you, but I’m here for another reason.”

Leo, who was standing near the window, glanced from Christopher’s rumpled attire to Beatrix’s disheveled condition. “Beatrix, darling, have you taken to going off the estate dressed like that?”

“Only this once,” she said apologetically. “I was in a hurry.”

“A hurry involving Captain Phelan?” Leo’s sharp gaze moved to Christopher. “What do you wish to discuss?”

“It’s personal,” Christopher said quietly. “And it concerns your sister.” He looked from Cam to Leo. Ordinarily there would have been no question concerning which one of them to approach. As lord of the manor, Leo would have been the first choice. However, the Hathaways seemed to have settled on an unconventional sharing of roles.

“Which one of you should I talk to?” Christopher asked.

They pointed to each other and replied at the same time.

“Him.”

Cam spoke to Leo. “You’re the viscount.”

“You’re the one who usually deals with that sort of thing,” Leo protested.

“Yes. But you won’t like my opinion on this one.”

“You’re not actually considering giving them your approval, are you?”

“Of all the Hathaway sisters,” Cam said equably, “Beatrix is the one most suited to choose her own husband. I trust her judgment.”

Beatrix gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Cam.”

“What are you thinking?” Leo demanded of his brother-in-law. “You can’t trust Beatrix’s judgment.”

“Why not?”

“She’s too young,” Leo said.

“I’m twenty-three,” Beatrix protested. “In dog years I’d be dead.”

“And you’re female,” Leo persisted.

“I beg your pardon?” Catherine interrupted. “Are you implying that women have poor judgment?”

“In these matters, yes.” Leo gestured to Christopher. “Just look at the fellow, standing there like a bloody Greek god. Do you think she chose him because of his intellect?”

“I graduated from Cambridge,” Christopher said acidly. “Should I have brought my diploma?”

“In this family,” Cam interrupted, “there is no requirement of a university degree to prove one’s intelligence. Lord Ramsay is a perfect example of how one has nothing to do with the other.”

“Phelan,” Leo said, “I don’t intend to be offensive, however—”

“It’s something that comes naturally to him,” Catherine interrupted sweetly.

Leo sent his wife a scowl and returned his attention to Christopher. “You and Beatrix haven’t known each other long enough to consider matrimony. A matter of weeks, to my knowledge. And what about Prudence Mercer? You’re practically betrothed, aren’t you?”

“Those are valid points,” Christopher said. “And I will answer them. But you should know right away that I’m against the match.”

Leo blinked in bemusement. “You mean you’re against a match with Miss Mercer?”

“Well . . . yes. But I’m also against a match with Beatrix.”

Silence fell over the room.

“This is a trick of some sort,” Leo said.

“Unfortunately, it’s not,” Christopher replied.

Another silence.

“Captain Phelan,” Cam asked, choosing his words with care. “Have you come to ask for our consent to marry Beatrix?”

Christopher shook his head. “If I decide to marry Beatrix, I’ll do it with or without your consent.”

Leo looked at Cam. “Good God,” he said in disgust. “This one’s worse than Harry.”

Cam wore an expression of beleaguered patience. “Perhaps we should both talk to Captain Phelan in the library. With brandy.”

“I want my own bottle,” Leo said feelingly, leading the way.

Aside from leaving out a few intimate details, Christopher told them everything. He was unsparing when it came to his own flaws, but he was determined to protect Beatrix from criticism, even from her own family.

“It’s not like her to play games,” Leo said, shaking his head after Christopher told them about the letters. “God knows what possessed her to do such a thing.”

“It wasn’t a game,” Christopher said quietly. “It turned into something more than either of us expected.”

Cam regarded him with a speculative gaze. “In the excitement of all these revelations, Phelan, one could easily be swept away. Are you very sure of your feelings for Beatrix? Because she is—”

“Unique,” Leo supplied.

“I know that.” Christopher felt his mouth twitch with a trace of humor. “I know that she steals things unintentionally. She wears breeches, and references Greek philosophers, and has read far too many veterinary manuals. I know that she keeps the kinds of pets that other people pay to have exterminated.” Thinking of Beatrix, he felt an ache of yearning. “I know that she could never reside in London, that she could only thrive by living close to nature. I know that she is compassionate, intelligent, and brave, and the only thing she truly fears is being abandoned. And I would never do that, because I happen to love her to distraction. But there is one problem.”