"Sex lessons? You want me to give your sister sex lessons?"
"Not precisely." Matt, the youngest Malone brother, bit off the words. "We prefer to call it sensual appreciation training." Nick and Drew gave shuddering nods of agreement.
Boz paced to the window. The request didn't disturb him as much as his reaction. His sixth sense didn't sound an alarm. Instead, it pawed at his innards, riling him up like a thoroughbred at the starting pistol. On the other hand, his common sense screeched like a banshee.
In times of turmoil, he hid behind the precise and slightly haughty demeanor of the duke. He did that now as he made an exact quarter turn towards the eldest, Nick. "Okay, sensual appreciation training, then. Why does she need to be trained by anyone other than her future spouse?"
Nick tossed back the whiskey in his glass. "You want to know why three over-protective brothers would ask this favor?"
"Or perhaps," Drew suggested, "since Lily is such a spectacular female, he wonders why we make this request now. Men will surely commence falling at her feet tonight."
Matt couldn't get past his objections. "Maybe, you two could explain all of this to me again. I loved Moms as much as any of you, but she's gone. We can forget this odd-ball notion of hers."
Nick shoved his youngest sibling. "Damn it, you know better. 'Twas no flighty notion. This plea came from our dying Mother and we gave our pledge of honor. How can you suggest we forget? Is that how little she meant to you?"
The errant brother gave a chagrined sigh. "I'm sorry. Of course, you're right. It just goes against the grain. Way against it."
"Just pretend I'm not here." Sedgewick couldn't stifle a grin at the typically boisterous interaction between the brothers he met before he could lace his own shoes.
At the reminder, they returned their attention to their chosen victim, errr best friend and Drew explained. "We never introduced you our family closet's skeleton. God knows we've moldered in the country for years to keep it quiet. Now we're forced to London and we've already imposed on you to help with Lily's debut. Yet, we must ask for so much more."
"Indeed," Nick added, "however, we have no choice. The fact is, Mother was married before she met my Father."
"What?" The Duke's shock stretched his chocolate eyes.
"Once upon a time, Mother was the Duchess of St. Albans. The poor thing was pledged at birth to Montgomery Claremont, the late and unlamented Aubrey's sire. She fostered at a convent. The Claremonts didn't fetch her until the eve of her wedding. From the far-too-frank descriptions she gave to convince us of the import of her request, we learned that Monte got his jollies from her pain." Nick's anger made it clear that he would love to dig up the long-dead Montgomery and inflict a little pain of his own.
"His son shared that trait," Boz commented.
"The Nuns taught her to do her sacred duty, no matter how distasteful she found it. Well, one night, he proceeded from kicking down the service entrance to whips and chains. When he passed out, Moms got loose. She grabbed the knife he incorporated into their little escapades and stabbed the bastard. Then she ran away," Drew filled in when Nick's words muted to indecipherable growls.
"Too bad she didn't finish the job or Aubrey would never have existed," Sedgewick noted.
"Pops found her hiding in the woods bloody, half-clothed, and terrified of anyone male. He hid her while Claremont searched. He also gave her sensual appreciation instruction. Before long, the teacher and the pupil fell in love and discovered I was on the way," Nick added, with a quirk of his left brow. "By then Monte had a wee one of his own en route. He divorced Mother and kept her dowry."
"Our parents married before the ink dried on the documents, just before Nick arrived," Drew added.
"They lived quietly and we've done the same. The old scandal died eventually, helped along by the monumental dirt in Monte and then Aubrey's daily lives. We hope it's behind us, but the ton has a long memory," Nick said.
"So you've sought my influence for Lily's debut," Boz murmured, understanding the aide he agreed to give without questioning why it was needed.
"Mother," Nick insisted, "believed no woman should go into marriage without knowing what to expect in the bedroom. She insisted that you must teach Lily. Whether you noticed or not, she worked hard to foster your attachment. On her deathbed, she made us promise to come to you with the request and insisted you wouldn't deny us if we told you the truth."
The end of Nick's sentence concerned Boz. "I've known Lily since she arrived in the world. Now you want me to teach the scrawny brat about sex? The thought holds all the allure of getting romantic with my little sister."
Matt turned his words against him. "First off, she's not your sister. Second, the brat trailed behind you on every step of your visits for years, up till recently when they stopped altogether."
His face colored, causing his visitors to grin, despite the touchy subject. "Teaching her about sex would require her to arouse me to some degree. Frankly, I don't believe that's possible."
"I've never laid eyes on the young lady," said Vladimir Batalova, who'd quietly arrived a few minutes back, "but I'd bet my share of Wanderer's next voyage that it's inevitable."
"Lily?"
"Lily." The Russian's confidence grated on Boz's nerves.
Lily. Matt interrupted his thoughts. "You didn't let me finish. While you've been gone Lily grew up." He allowed that thought to germinate. "She matured and blossomed. If you make me say that again, I'll strangle you and enjoy it."
"Assuming I agreed to this harebrained notion," he said with a calm he didn't begin to feel, "what would be the boundary?"
"Her maidenhead," Nick said.
"Damn," the duke muttered while his sixth sense bubbled like freshly poured champagne. He wanted to refuse. He should refuse. Given the skeleton in his own family closet, not refusing could and likely would be tragic. But the bloody sense he'd never damned as much as today wouldn't let him walk away.
