Olivia, the whining and ungrateful bitch, had become a disgrace since the disappearance of her slimy betrothed. Magnus was already seething inwardly about this, not showing such displeasure in the company of others as they would not understand why it mattered so much to him. He loved his siblings despite their actions, and he would do anything to make sure that they were happy. The boy was not good enough for his sister; she should have been married off to someone of a higher rank than their family was, for all three of his sisters had the substantial dowries to catch good mates. His displeasure only deepened when the youngest, Pearl, threw all that away and moved out of the house to become happy with her spinsterhood. He wondered if it had anything to do with that shit who kidnapped her, did he put his hands on her and ruin his Pearl?

And then he had his imbecile brothers to look after. Joy.

Magnus sat brooding in the parlor where he smoked away at a cigar and swirled a glass of port about, a tick in his eye was the only real indication of his black mood. His family was becoming surrounded by nasty rumors and he needed to do some damage control... trouble was, he wasn't sure how to solve this problem as of yet. The two siblings with the brunt of the rumors were his two youngest sisters, the elder becoming a drunkard when she thought nobody noticed, and the younger... well... he'd heard a rumor of that snake oil salesman sniffing around, but he had no proof of that. Yet. Perhaps he could use his brothers to get more information about his sisters, he thought. He drained the port from the glass, tossed the butt of the cigar into the fire, and set off in search of one of his brothers.