"Oh, that's hardly true," he said, and kissed her shoulder, before fishing his trousers off the floor. "There aren't any horses in the bedroom."

Niabheara snorted and smacked his rear end. "Put some trousers on, you. I . . . I am really not looking forward to this. Not so much Bonet as Mother."

"Ow!" Marcello tugged his pants on. "Give me a shirt. Do you think your mother will object? I mean, the man attacked someone. NEver mind that it's Dierdre's husband."

"Mother gets strange about her own men," Niabheara said darkly. "I'd just as soon have her take him and get him off my hands. Either way, Dierdre will be pleased, and Duncan will shut up about it." She tied on her stockings, then slithered into her underthings. "Which of us wants to talk to the Lady in Red?"

Marcello sighed. "I suppose that's within my purview, isn't it?" he asked. "Spiritual advisor or something?"

She jerked tight the laces on her gown, frowning. "They do tend to speak to you more than they do me. Good neighbor, my love. I just--paugh." She gave her laces another tug. "Ne'er mind."

"Here, let me," Marcello offered, and held out a hand for her laces. "I know," he answered. "I don't particularly like when they get involved in things, either. And...well. This concerns me. Because as much as they're manipulative, they don't really outright lie."

"I don't think she likes Duncan," Niabheara blurted out. "Because I don't like Duncan. She thinks she's protecting me."

Marcello pursed his lips. "Do you...think that she'd do that?" he asked, hesitantly. He tugged at his ear. "Would she lie to do it? What...it's not as if Duncan's dangerous. You just got off to a bad start."

Niabheara sucked on her bottom lip, quietly fuming. Her fists clenched into knots. "Marcello. It goes a bit deeper than that. I . . . remember how we talked about eventually I was going to have to let you into all the family finances?"