Free In the Heat of the Bite by Lydia Dare

wedding all those months ago. But as she was a guest in the man’s home, she decided it probably wasn’t the best idea.
    She hadn’t seen either of them since.
    Rhiannon was far from lonely, however. Caitrin had the right of it when she said Eynsford’s brothers were always underfoot. The twins, Grayson and Weston Hadley, bickered back and forth about one inane topic or another—from styles of cravats to the latest offerings at Tattersall’s. Watching them was vastly entertaining until Lord Radbourne, from his position near the window seat, suggested the pair hie off to Gentleman Jackson’s to settle their squabbles in more appropriate surroundings.
    “And leave Miss Sinclair alone in
your
debauched presence?” Weston Hadley raised one dark eyebrow. “I think not.”
    “I’m in complete agreement.” Grayson Hadley settled in beside Rhiannon on a dark green brocade settee. “I am sorry my younger brother’s ineptitude about cattle has kept the conversation from you, Miss Sinclair.”
    “Sorry, sweetheart.” Lord Radbourne smiled wolfishly at her. “Apparently the only thing they agree on is thwarting me.”
    “And I am
not
younger,” Weston Hadley insisted as he sank into a nearby high-backed chair, casting an irritated glance at his twin. “We’re the
same
age.”
    “Ah, but I beat you by a whole five minutes.” Grayson Hadley leaned toward Rhiannon and whispered dramatically, “The runt of a litter typically is the weakest, both mentally and physically. You wouldn’t believe how many arguments we’ve had over
that
.”
    Rhiannon couldn’t help herself, and she laughed at the pair. “Oh, I believe you, Mr. Hadley.”
    “Mr. Hadley is so formal, and there are
two
of us. Please call me Gray instead.” He winked at her.
    A strangled sound escaped his twin. “First names already? Well, then, Miss Sinclair, I insist you call me Wes.”
    Gray chuckled. “Beat you again.”
    “Only because I’m better mannered than you,” Wes returned.
    Lord Radbourne rubbed his brow as though his siblings gave him a headache. “I am very sorry, sweetheart. I should have left them at home. In the nursery.” He shot them a quelling glance.
    Wes snorted. “We could hardly allow you to keep Miss Sinclair to yourself.” Then he graced Rhiannon with a charming smile. “Cait has told us very little about you, Miss Sinclair.”
    Including the fact that she was a witch. They didn’t know about Cait, either. Her friend had confided that bit after the ball last night. Fortunately, Lord Radbourne hadn’t noticed the cloud above them when Lord Blodswell intercepted them. That would have been difficult to explain. “There’s no’ much ta tell,” Rhiannon hedged.
    “I don’t believe that.” Wes leaned forward in his seat. “Well, how do you know Cait?”
    Rhiannon pushed one of her curls behind her ear. “We’ve kent each other since infancy. Our mothers were close friends. We’re like sisters of a sort.” Coven sisters counted, didn’t they?
    “And how are you finding London?” Gray inquired. “Very different from Edinburgh, or so Cait has said.”
    “Complained is more like it,” Radbourne put in with a good-natured grin.
    At that moment Price, the aged butler, entered the parlor with a silver salver outstretched in one hand. “A gentleman to see you, Miss.”
    Rhiannon gulped. Only one gentleman had threatened to call on her today. She snatched the vellum card from the tray and cringed at the bold, block letters emblazoning the words “E ARL OF B LODSWELL .” Blast him. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
    “Your devoted suitor?” Radbourne asked.
    “The fellow from last night?” Gray slid forward on the settee. “He seemed rather… intense.”
    “Lord Eynsford asked him to come today.”
    Wes scoffed. “Then Dash should have to visit with the man.” Which had been Rhiannon’s first thought last night as well.
    “If you don’t want to see Blodswell, sweetheart, you can tell Price that