Before The Scandal by Suzanne Enoch Page A

Colonel.”
    “So it is. Shine my dress boots while I’m gone, will you?”
    Gordon nodded, indicating they should step into the sitting room off the foyer. Another faux pas, but Phineas ignored it as he entered the room and closed the door after the sergeant.
    “What is it?”
    “Did ye find out why no one’s talking of the highwayman’s appearance last night?”
    “Yes. I showed myself to someone who didn’t wish to admit that she’d crossed paths with a stranger. If I want to upset the local gentry, I’d best make a more…spectacular showing.”
    “Oh, aye. We can’t have ye being subtle.”
    “I will be subtle. Our highwayman will not. That is the point, Thaddeus.”
    “Far be it from me to argue with a madman.”
    Phineas grinned. “Exactly.”

Chapter 7
    The process of transporting Viscount Quence to a night out in Lewes was more complicated than Phineas had realized. First Andrews rolled him to the foyer in his chair. Then the valet lifted William in his arms and carried him down the front steps to the waiting coach. After carefully seating him where he could hold on to a wall strap for balance, Andrews returned for the chair, which he also carried down the steps and then tied on to the back of the coach.
    They had the system perfected, which made sense after ten years of practice. Phineas didn’t comment on their efficiency, and instead kept his mouth shut and climbed into the carriage to sit beside Beth.
    “Do you like opera?” Beth asked, hugging his arm. She wore a pretty blue and yellow silk gown, with matching ribbons tied through her curly ginger hair. “I should have discovered that before I asked you to join us.”
    Us. He wasn’t back to being one of the family yet, then. Not that he truly expected it. “Nonsense,” he said aloud. “Of course I enjoy opera,” he returned. In the face of her hopeful, pleased expression he would face a firing squad before admitting that opera left him indifferent at best, and asleep at worst. “Do you attend often?”
    “We try to go to the theater for every new production during the late summer and early fall. They almost never perform opera, so I’m quite excited. I’ve been learning Italian, so I will translate for you, if you wish.”
    “Thank you. I can ask for directions to the nearest inn in Italian, but that’s about as far as my knowledge goes.” That wasn’t entirely true, but he liked seeing her happy.
    “What a surprise,” William said into the silence. “Now that you’re here, pray determine which of the local inns and taverns the nobility frequent so that you don’t embarrass the family by entering a bawdy house.”
    “I’m not going to any tavern,” Phineas retorted. “I’m going to the theater with you and Beth, and during intermission I’ll be chatting and behaving in a pleasant and gentlemanly manner.”
    “Tonight, anyway. Forgive me if I otherwise remain skeptical.”
    At the word “forgive,” Phineas flinched. He had a hunch that William had used it intentionally. “You may be correct,” he grunted. “If I find someone willing to purchase me a glass of bitters, I may lose all bearings.”
    Beth cleared her throat. “You look very handsome tonight, Phin,” she said, too loudly. “And very rakish, with that scar.”
    He’d nearly forgotten about his scar. Absently he touched the right side of his face where the old, thin line dissected his eyebrow, skipped over his eye, and ran for an inch down his cheek. “If the fellow had been a feather closer when he swung his saber at me, I’d be looking rakish with an eye patch. Thank goodness for ground squirrels and their well-placed burrows.”
    “Yes, thank God for them.”
    Phineas glanced again at William. The words sounded sarcastic, but his brother’s tone seemed almost…sincere. As far as he was concerned, if he’d lost an eye it wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t deserved.
    “I thank goodness that nothing worse happened to you,” Beth went