Wick closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. ‘I couldn’t leave them at home alone.’
‘I should have thought Mrs May and Harper more than capable of containing them for a few days.’
Reluctantly, Wick dropped his hands and opened his eyes. ‘Mrs May had to come to London.’
‘Tell me the true reason why—and no more Banbury stories, Wick,’ Sunny said. ‘I am your oldest friend, and I can tell when you’re lying or misdirecting.’
Huffing, Wick sat forward in his seat and said in a low whisper, ‘The girls sent me on a wild goose chase in the wrong direction after their last governess and I happened upon another young lady and mistook her for the errant governess.’
Wincing, Sunny said, ‘Oh, dear. You didn’t try to kidnap the wrong woman, did you?’
‘No! I mean, I did bring her home...but she was willing to come.’
‘Of course she was.’ His friend chuckled. ‘When’s the wedding?’
Wick’s fingers clenched into fists. ‘Don’t make me break your nose again.’
Sunny held up his hands in surrender. ‘Truce, old friend. Tell me the rest of your sad tale.’
‘My sisters pointed out that she wasn’t the governess, and then the blasted young lady wouldn’t tell us her true name.’
‘A lady? Wick, youarein the basket. Is she pretty, at least?’
‘Ravishing,’ he admitted, ‘but I had the forethought to have Mrs May play chaperone, and when we discovered that she was Lady Louisa Bracken I tried to fob her off on her uncle, the Canon of Sherborne.’
Sunny clenched his teeth, shaking his head. ‘Worse and worse.’
‘The fellow wanted to send her back to the Rockinghams, who were treating her like a drudge, which I’d already promised her that I wouldn’t do... When she ran away from her relatives her clothing was threadbare—and she’s a blasted heiress. And she’s twenty-one, so legally they are no longer her guardians. And all she wants is a proper season and to be given her yearly allowance.’
‘Your soft heart is going to get you into trouble.’
‘It already has,’ Wick said.
Sunny shook his head. ‘And Mantheria too. I take it you have dumped your mystery lady, Mrs May and your three little sisters on her doorstep?’
Wick felt the blood rush to his face. His friend was right. He’d literally dropped all his problems and responsibilities on his sister, who had enough on her plate with her own child and an unfaithful husband.
‘I’m a wretch.’
‘No, you’re a softie, and all four of your sisters pull your heartstrings like a harp. You can’t say no to any of them,’ Sunny said. ‘Except maybe Helen. I adore her bluntness. Did she bring her snake to London?’
‘No.’
His friend grinned, then laughed. ‘You know she’ll just find another one. She’s got a sixth sense about them.’
Wick dropped his head into his hands. ‘Can you stop talking? Or at the very least change the subject?’
‘What if I were to tell you there are a couple of prime ’uns at Tattersalls that you’ll be interested in? I’d buy the chestnuts myself if I had a feather to fly with.’
‘Are they beauties?’
‘They prettiest set of goers I ever laid my eyes on,’ his friend assured him. ‘I think they could even beat your greys in a race.’
Wick’s pair of matched greys were a splendid team, and he’d raced with them several times, never losing. But his father had purchased them when Wick was only eighteen, and the horses were growing older and slower. They still had several years in them, but their racing days were coming to an end.
‘I’ll go and give them a look later today.’
Sunny stood up and held out his hand. ‘I’ll come with you. I have nothing else to do except stop at Jem Belcher’s. He’s promised to show me how to block your bruising left hook.’