"I still cannot believe you did not warn me of your arrival."

Penelope weaved around her brother's legs before finding a seat opposite him in the parlor. The sun was hitting the far wall at just the right angle to make Griffin's blue eyes bright and glinting. He threw an arm haphazardly on the top of the sofa cushion, picking a little at the seam of it. His mouth curled for a second into a look of distaste, and Penelope knew it was because of the cushion and its little tassels. Its hints of gold and expensive fabric.

Griff hated anything that hinted at money. She supposed that she would feel the same if she were born into wealth only to be given none.

Although Penelope hadn't really been given any money, had she? It had all gone to the marquess when they'd married. And now he was off on the continent, spending it. It was likely that Penelope should be just as jaded toward wealth as her brother.

But alas, there was only much concern she could put toward the way of the world, dratted and awful though it was.

"I did not know if my schedule would allow me to make an appearance," Griff said. "Did not want to get your hopes up, Pen."

She rearranged her skirts absent-mindedly. "Yes, but I did not have your rooms ready or anything."

"Penelope." Griffin fixed her with a stare. "I sleep on a ship for weeks at a time. Trust me, the accommodations you have provided are more than sufficient."

Yes, well, he did have a point there. But still. "It is all the more reason to spoil you while you are on land, then."

Penelope wondered if she should say something about Beckett's proposal to have her brother stay in the marquess' chambers. But she already knew the answer; Griffin would not want to sleep in that bed. She had not been lying about that. And Penelope was not exactly looking forward to hearing her brother's take on his dear friend sleeping in the room beside hers. So she kept her mouth firmly shut.

When Griffin shook his head, Penelope realized it was the wrong thing to say, to mention spoiling him. His mouth twisted again.

"I do not require any spoiling," he muttered. "Especially not from my little sister. Am I not supposed to be the one spoiling you?"

Oh, Griffin. He had a damned sense of pride, didn't he?

"It is my house party. I think it is quite up to me to spoil all of my guests. Not merely you, Griffin."

When her brother looked unappeased, Penelope decided it was likely time to move on in the conversation.

"Where is your friend today, brother? Usually, he is breathing down my neck by this point."

That caused Griffin to still and then chuckle. He shifted in his seat before piercing Penelope with a look.

"Is that so?"

Penelope swallowed and wondered if perhaps she should revert to the earlier topic instead. Despite her brother's surliness, it might have been the safer choice.

"Well, yes. But that was his assigned job, was it not?"

Griffin took a long time to nod. "That is my understanding, yes."

"So he is not doing his job today?"

"I am giving him a break."

"A break?"

A teasing smile, one that was uncommon to see on Griffin's face, spread wide. "From you, darling."

That pulled Penelope's lips into a tight line. The audacity of men.

"You imply that I am a person from which people need to take breaks? How kind of you, Griffin. Truly, what a blow to my ego so early in the morning."

"I am merely teasing." His smile grew, and Penelope knew he was not lying. Nevertheless, her frown did not let up. "He is off chasing his suspect this morning, I do believe. Since I am with you, of course. He was given a two-fold mission that is not precisely easy to complete."

Penelope sat up straighter in her seat. "Well, I can just as easily accompany him with whatever...chasing he needs to accomplish."

"Now, Penelope. We are trained for things such as that. And you are not. You are meant to stay out of the way."

His chastising tone made Penelope bite down on her tongue in frustration. "I do not appreciate you treating me as a child, Griffin."

His expression softened. "I am not treating you as a child. I am treating you as a woman, my sister, who I do not want to see hurt."

She sniffed, looking away to the window. The sun was starting to hide beneath clouds as it often did around this time of day. It had done its task of drying the dew. She wished it would stay out, though. "Sometimes I wonder what is worse. Being treated as a child or as a woman," she muttered.

"Penelope..." Griffin started, but she cut in, wanting to change the topic. Again.

"How long does your schedule allow you to stay?"

He sighed. "Only until the end of the week, unfortunately."

Penelope's stomach sank with the letdown. "Unfortunate, indeed. You will miss the ball."

A rough chuckle, nearly as gruff as his scraggly beard, released from Griff's mouth. "Well, I am not the least bit upset about that."

Huffing, Penelope hurried up to take the tray of tea from the servant as they walked through the doors, knowing that being waited on by staff would irritate Griffin even more. She waved the maid, Willow, off with a smile and then went about preparing the tea.

"Oh, come now. Does a bit of dancing not sound fun, brother?"

Griffin grunted in reply.

"We must have some sort of party before you leave," she insisted. "Perhaps we can arrange something for the evening before you depart. No one shall complain about having two balls."

"Penelope," Griff said tersely, leaning forward to take the cup of tea from her which she had made precisely to his liking. "This whole event is a party, is it not?"

"Well—"

"And I am not here for the party. I am here for you."

Despite herself, something warmed inside Penelope's chest.

She was overwhelmingly pleased to see Griffin. Visits with her brother were always few and far between due to the distance between them, both physically and societally. So, of course, she wished to relish his stay here at the estate.

But throwing a ball would allow Penelope more time with the men of the household, not merely Griffin. Specifically, Lord Lawton. If she was to get to the bottom of the indiscretions potentially happening within her home, she needed the opportunity to gather more frequently with the suspect. And with the unfortunate scheduling of house parties where most activities divided the gentlemen and ladies, her chances had been few and far between.

"You know the others are likely not pleased that your bastard brother has arrived," Griffin pointed out, and Penelope knew he was attempting to sway her from the plans already forming in her head. "Let us not ruffle any more feathers by making the precious peerage interact with me in the form of an evening ball, Pen."

"If anyone is displeased, they may feel free to leave."

She scowled, folding her arms across her chest with indignation at the exact moment that Beckett strode into the room, all commanding and imposing.

His steely gaze flicked to her first, and she didn't miss the lingering way he trailed those eyes over her décolletage. Which, she realized, was quite in view at the moment considering her position.

Griffin cleared his throat.

"Beckett."

Beckett's attention shifted quickly to her brother, and Penelope even believed she caught a bit of a flush on those strong cheekbones.

"How was your break?" she asked, looking up at him beneath her lashes.

He turned back to Penelope again, brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Your break from me? Griffin said you required one."

A muscle in his jaw tensed. "Did he now?"

Penelope nodded, noting that he did not deny it. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Griffin open his mouth to interject but swiftly cut him off.

"He did. An opportunity to collect intel, was it? I do hope it was successful."

The way that Beckett tensed up, all of his features marring in consternation, told Penelope that it was not, in fact, successful.

For some odd reason, this pleased her.

Standing, Penelope brushed her skirts unnecessarily and made her way toward the door, stopping when she was shoulder to shoulder with the colonel.

"Your insistence to distance me from your mission is foolish," she said, keeping her voice low as she glanced up at him. She did not care if Griffin heard her, but it was not really for him that she was speaking.

"I would argue that untrue," Beckett said crisply.

"Hm." Penelope made a slight humming noise in the back of her throat before biting down on her lip. Beckett's gaze darted toward her mouth before back up to her eyes, and she could not help the hot prickles from rising on the back of her neck. "We shall see about that, Colonel."

Yes, Penelope thought.

For all purposes, a ball would suit quite nicely. It was one area, at least, when women often had the upper hand. And that was exactly what she required.