He was followed by a skipping Phoebe and a disgruntled-looking second son of a duke. “Lord Oldbeck, Miss Charville, Lord Stephen, good morning,” said Harriet politely, pasting a polite smile on her face and indicating to the footman to bring up more tea and toast. “Please sit and join us. Have a cup of tea at least.” “Can I have breakfast, Harry? Charville is in a foul temper. Something to do with you in the scandal sheets and he dragged me here before I could get my ham and eggs.” She turned a bright smile to her brother. “Of course you can. This is your house, after all. Just because you are staying with Lord Stephen temporarily does not mean we would starve you.” “You are in the scandal sheet? Is that because you and Lord Stephen were kissing in the garden?” asked Mary. “You and Papa were kissing?” Phoebe looked from Harriet to her father, her little nose scrunched up and a look of sheer disgust on her face. “Why do grown-ups do that? It’s horrible.” “Good God, we did not kiss,”
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