“Looks like I’m going to need to purchase myself a broom,” Andrew muttered.

“A broom? Why is that?”

“To sweep that bastard Darnell and his friends off Lady Catherine’s porch.”

“Excellent idea. As her brother, I can’t say I like the way Darnell is looking at her.”

Andrew forced his gaze away from the group surrounding the punch bowl and looked at Philip. “Can’t say I like it myself.”

“Well then, since you’re quite capable of handling yourself, I’ll take myself off so you can proceed. I’ll send a letter once I’m a papa to let you know if the tyke is a boy or girl.”

Andrew smiled. “Please do. I’ll be anxious to know if I’m an aunt or an uncle.”

Philip laughed. “Good luck in your quest to win my doesn’t-care-to-be-won sister.” Amusement flashed in Philip’s eyes as he glanced toward the group at the punch bowl. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to witness the wooing as I’m certain it will prove very entertaining. And may the best man win.”

After seeing Philip off, Andrew started up the brick walkway to reenter the town house, anticipating finding Catherine. He hoped there would be no further interruptions-

The front door opened and a group of gentlemen exited the town house. His jaw clenched as he recognized Lords Avenbury and Ferrymouth. Both young lords were impeccably dressed, complicated cravat knots adorning their throats, their coifs artful arrangements of careless, rakish curls. Each wore large jeweled rings that glistened in the moonlight as they indulged in a bit of snuff. Andrew decided they would not look quite so well turned-out sporting swollen jaws and blackened eyes.

And that reprobate Kingsly was with them. With his paunch, puckered lips, and beady eyes, Kingsly was already a remarkably unattractive fellow, but Andrew would be more than happy to make him even uglier if he continued his pursuit of Lady Catherine.