Before The Scandal by Suzanne Enoch Page B

on.
    Nothing except for being shot twice and having a horse fall on him. But his family didn’t know about any of that. Nor did he want them to. “I was lucky,” he said aloud.
    “Lord Bramwell said you were clumsy and generally fell down at the right moment.”
    “Bram’s an idiot.”
    “He’s very nice,” Elizabeth argued, her color rising, “in a dangerous, naughty sort of way.”
    Phineas sat forward. “What do you mean, ‘naughty’? If he’s put a hand on you, I’ll castrate him.”
    “Good heavens!” Beth’s cheeks darkened to scarlet.
    “Bram has done everything possible to avoid being in the same room with our Magpie,” William said, humor entering his voice for what seemed like the first time since Phineas had returned. “It couldn’t hurt to pass your sentiments on to him, though.”
    “No! No, no, no! You will do no such thing! Because if you do, I will die from embarrassment!”
    “I thought you were being courted by Lord Donnelly.” Phineas eyed his sister. Under other circumstances he might have pursued this topic more delicately, but he and William seemed to have momentarily become allies. He couldn’t allow that to pass by without doing anything to encourage it.
    She lifted her chin. “Clearly it would be very silly of me to continue to participate in this conversation.”
    “But how will I know who I’m supposed to threaten if you don’t tell me which gentlemen you find interesting?”
    “Richard has been a great help to us,” she retorted, “so please do not threaten him simply because he takes me driving.”
    Phineas’s amusement faded. He’d brought up the topic of Richard Donnelly, but not to be slapped with the reminder that the man had stepped into the place within the Bromley family that had been his. Had been and would have continued to be, if he hadn’t been such a fool.
    “Did you write Lord Bramwell to tell him you’re here?” Beth asked, either realizing that she’d trodden on sensitive ground, or unable to overcome being a seventeen-year-old young lady with a very ill-placed infatuation.
    “I’ve written both Bram and Sullivan. I didn’t ask them to come, however, so don’t expect to see either of them.” He refrained from mentioning that he’d already received a very substantial gift, in the form of Ajax, from Sullivan.
    “I didn’t ask anything about whether anyone would be visi—”
    The coach jolted sideways. Beth shrieked as with a tremendous crack the vehicle pitched forward into the road. Phineas felt the sickening roll begin as the top-heavy vehicle started over onto its side. Not even taking the time to think, he shoved Beth against the sinking wall to keep her from falling that way, and then launched to the other side of the coach to grab William, bracing himself beneath his brother.
    With Beth’s screams in his ears the coach rocked onto its side and continued on toward the roof before it settled back again. “Beth! Quiet!” he snapped.
    She subsided with a surprised whimper.
    “Are you hurt? Beth! Are you—”
    “No. No, I don’t think so.”
    “William?”
    “Intact, as far as I can tell.”
    Thankfully the oil in the coach lamp had drowned out the flame, but all of them were covered with the slick substance. Inside the toppled coach it was dark as pitch, but looking up he could make out the overcast sky through the trio of windows he’d been sitting beside a moment ago. He could hear the horses neighing and stomping, and crickets, but nothing of the two men who’d been seated on the driver’s perch. “Warner? Andrews?” he called.
    “Here, sir!” Warner’s voice came. “Is anyone injured?”
    “No.”
    “Give us a moment, then, to free the horses so they don’t drag the coach.”
    “What happened?” Beth quavered, crawling over to grasp William’s hand.
    “I would guess that we lost a wheel,” Phineas supplied. William was heavy across his chest, but he wasn’t about to complain. As his eyes adjusted to the