Page 34 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
“I have a plan.”
Pearl groaned. “Not more mischief, miss?”
“Quiet, Pearl,” Wynne loyally commanded. “I must confess, the hairs rise on the back of my neck every time you mention one of your schemes, Devona. Still your heart is in the right place. What do you want to do?”
“First, we need to get rid of our watchdog.”
Confusion glazed Amara’s eyes. “A pet?”
“Our brother Brock. He has been most annoying of late. If I did not know better, I would think Tipton has had a hand in this.” Devona dismissed the notion with a shake of her head. The thought of the pair of them conspiring together was too amusing.
Wynne dusted the crumbs from her fingers. “I have a feeling Tipton rarely needs the assistance of others to gain what he wants.” She directed a raised brow in her sister’s direction.
Amara switched her gaze from sister to sister. “Tipton? As in Lord Tipton?”
“Yes.” Devona faced Wynne. “If you are implying that Tipton is going to have his way with me, you are mistaken.” She did not consider how her outburst sounded until Amara gasped.
“T-Tipton. The man they call the Refined Corpse?” the young woman squeaked. “They say he is dangerous.”
“A tame man would never interest theton,” Devona assured her, distracted by her sister’s observation. One thing Devona had learned was that Tipton had done nothing to improve polite society’s low opinion of him, nor had he cared. “Brock has called him out numerous times. Papa has refused him. I seconded that refusal. Marriage to Tipton simply would be a disaster.”
Pearl sniffed from her post at the window. “That’s why we spent several hours driving round London while you cooed in the man’s arms. Considering the sounds we heard, we should have made straightaway to Gretna Green!”
Wynne laughed aloud. “That’s the way to stand up to her, Pearl!”
Devona glared at her maid. “A fine time to develop some spirit, Pearl. You will need that bit of bone to help us.” She could not help smirking at the woman’s crestfallen expression. Cooing sounds, indeed!
“What exactly are you planning, Miss Bedegrayne?” If Amara was wary before, the news of Tipton being involved did little to calm her.
Pleased to change the subject, Devona turned a bright, convincing smile on Amara. “I could not help but notice how similar in size we are.” She looked to Wynne for agreement. She just shrugged.
“Well, yes, I suppose.”
“Lovely features, just the kind of face I have always caught Brock admiring.”
“Devona,” Wynne said in a warning tone.
Amara blushed very prettily at the mention of the handsome Bedegrayne. “Your brother? He has never noticed me.”
Devona frowned at that fact; then again, it mattered little for what she had planned. She clasped the other woman’s hand as though they were best friends. “Have you ever considered using henna on your hair?”
“Hair dye?” Amara looked about: whether it was for confirmation or escape no one was positive.
Devona ignored the fact that Amara was trying to tug her hand free. “And curls.” She lightly touched the ones teasing her cheek. “A hot iron would do wonders for your looks.”
“I— I do not think—” Amara gave up her argument. Her slouch became more pronounced at her acceptance that she was no match for the Bedegrayne sisters. “No hair dye!” she mumbled.
Wynne was not as easily subdued. “What exactly do you have planned for us, Sister?”
“Nothing too complicated. We will just have to free Doran from Newgate ourselves.” She went on, oblivious to their shocked expressions. “The audacity of the plan proves no one will suspect it.” Pleased with herself, she leaned back on the elegant sofa and nibbled on a biscuit.
Wynne was the first to recover. “I cannot wait to see Papa’s face when you explain that his gels were locked up in the ’Gate because they possessed an overabundance of audacity.”
“No one will get caught,” Devona said, attempting to soothe their distress.
Her sister was not convinced. “If prison does not kill us, Sir Thomas certainly shall!”
***
