As soon as the footmen removed the final piece of luggage from the top, the vehicle all but screeched away. “Is he truly allowing this?” Mary asked. Gemma nodded, but her attention was through the door just a few steps in front of them. She had heard a little of the last part of Crispin’s confrontation with her father. Including her husband’s defense her and her sister. And her father’s nasty last words. She slipped her arm through Mary’s. “It seems he is,” she said. “Now let us come and greet your savior.” Mary arched a brow. “Oh, is the duke here?” Gemma shot her sister a glare and guided her into the parlor. She was disappointed to find Crispin at the sideboard, pouring himself a drink. He turned as they entered and smiled, but she could see the expression didn’t meet his eyes. “Miss Quinn,”
