Chance the Winds of Fortune by Laurie McBain

said, glancing around at the once peaceful garden.
    â€œWhat happened up at the house, Francis?” Robin asked, unable to curb his curiosity any longer.
    Francis turned a knowing blue-gray eye on his young brother. “I s’pose Father is out cutting a switch for your breeches, seeing how the earl let slip how he came to fall into the lily pond.”
    â€œHe told Father!” Robin squealed. “But he promised he would not tell, the tattler. I knew I was right in never having cared for the cut of his coat,” he added audaciously, stamping his foot in indignation.
    Francis grinned. “Well, what did you expect him to say when he met our father in the hall? The earl looked as guilty as a common thief as he tried to sneak up the stairs. But Mason caught him, probably tipped off by one of the footmen. Father and I had been in the library, and were entering the hall when we stopped in amazement at the sight that greeted us on the Grand Staircase,” Francis told them with a laugh. “The earl was trying to escape a very solicitous Mason, who happened to have a tight hold on the earl’s arm and wasn’t about to let go. The earl was shooshing him quiet, while trying to shake him loose. The look on Lord Rendale’s face was unbelievable. I think he’d rather have come face-to-face with the devil himself than see Father standing there watching him.”
    â€œPoor Wesley,” Rhea said, feeling sorry for the bewildered earl.
    â€œI wonder if this means the picnic will be canceled,” Robin said glumly, thinking of the tables that would have been spread across the lawn, groaning under the weight of his favorite dishes, not to mention desserts. And what of the games he would miss playing with his cousins? It was just too horrible to think about.
    Francis watched in amusement while Robin tried to straighten his shirt and breeches in an attempt to bring some semblance of order to his disheveled appearance. Feeling sorry for the little fellow, he finally decided to set his mind at rest—at least about the picnic.
    â€œI shouldn’t worry about them canceling it. If Aunt Mary arrives tomorrow as planned, then they will certainly have it. You know how she and Mother like picnics,” he said. “But right now, Father wants to see you in his study, Robin,” he added, putting his arm across his brother’s shoulders. He’d noticed them slump slightly at his mention of the upcoming interview with the duke. “It’ll be all right. Father really doesn’t care much for the earl, you know. But he will not stand for discourtesy of any kind in his home, especially toward a guest under his roof. So you’d better have a good explanation on your tongue,” he advised.
    Rhea Claire glanced between her two brothers, each so different, and not just in one being so fair, while the other was dark. Robin was a little devil, and Rhea Claire had heard her father say often that he was her mother all over again. Francis, on the other hand, was quieter, more deliberate in his actions; he was definitely the duke’s son, or so her mother often swore with a shake of her curly black hair.
    â€œWell, all I’ve got to say on the matter,” Rhea declared, taking each of her brothers’ arms as they walked beside her through the gardens, “is that I hope I do not have to serve as your witness, Robin, for I’d have to swear that I saw you glance back and laugh when poor Rendale fell into the lily pond.”
    â€œI wasn’t laughing near as hard as you were, Rhea,” Robin reminded her, glancing up to catch her grin before they all started to laugh.
    * * *
    From the Private Drawing Room in the south wing, Sabrina, Duchess of Camareigh, watched her three eldest children approach and wondered what it was they found so amusing. She could see Robin’s dark head bobbing up and down as he hurried alongside his fair-haired brother and sister. Robin