Sinclair and Raven collection

Books 1-3

Wendy Vella

Contents

Sinclair and Raven Collection

Sensing Danger

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Seeing Danger

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Touched By Danger

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Scent Of Danger

Other Books By Wendy Vella

About the Author

Sinclair and Raven Collection

Books 1-3

By Wendy Vella

Legend says the Sinclairs heightened senses are a result of a long ago pact between them and the powerful Raven family. To Honor and Protect those of Raven blood is their creed.

SENSING DANGER

Arrogant and aloof, James, Duke of Raven, is determined to forge his own path and to hell with folk tales that his ancestors created. But when the breathtaking Eden Sinclair saves his life by risking her own, their past resurfaces, and with it comes the uncomfortable realization that they are linked by more than history.

SEEING DANGER

Miss Lilliana Braithwaite has always appeared a woman of little sense, with a tendency to dress like a color-blind field mouse. Dev had, for two years, ignored her until one night he finds her on the streets of London, attempting to rescue a child, and thereby hurling herself into danger. From that day forth everything between them changes, and in Lilly he finds the woman who could tame his heart. However, she does not appear convinced by that fact.

TOUCHED BY DANGER

Healer, Essex Sinclair understands her family’s heightened senses are a result of a long-ago pact between the Sinclairs and the powerful Raven family, but has always struggled to feel worthy of bearing the legendary Sinclair name. Unlucky in love, Essie has resolved to live a quiet, solitary life as a healer and leave passion to the young and foolish.

When Max Huntington falls into her herb garden, a bullet hole in his side, her only intention is to heal him quickly and send him on his way. Then she touches him, and from that moment on, fate steps in with dangerous consequences for them both

THE SINCLAIR & RAVEN SERIES

Sensing Danger

Seeing Danger

Touched By Danger

Scent Of Danger

Vision Of Danger

Tempting Danger

Seductive Danger

Nan Nan

I didn’t realize my dream until you had left us, so this one is

for the best Nana a grandchild could ever ask for.

Funny, intelligent, you were strong and resilient and always knew the right thing to say.

You loved us unconditionally and expected nothing in return, and we miss you so very much.

There are Nan Nanisims in the family that will last for generations to come.

You taught us to love and laugh, and had never ending patience

as you tried to teach me to knit.

We miss your meat pies and trifle; we miss the lessons you continually taught.

Love you for ever and always, and promise to keep my top button firmly done up!

Sensing Danger

Prologue

It is said that when lowly Baron Sinclair saved the powerful Duke of Raven from certain death in 1335 by single-handedly killing the three men who attacked his carriage, King Edward III was grateful. Raven was a wise and sage counsel he had no wish to lose, therefore, he rewarded Sinclair with the land that sat at the base of Raven Mountain. Having shown himself capable of the duty, Baron Sinclair was now, in the eye of the King, to be the official protector of the Ravens.

Over the years the tale has changed and grown as many do. There were rumors of strange occurrences when a Sinclair saved a Raven in the years that followed. Unexplained occurrences that caused many to wonder what it was that the Sinclairs were hiding, but one thing that never changed was their unwavering duty in the task King Edward III had bestowed upon them.

To honor and protect the Raven family was the Sinclair family creed.

Chapter One

England 1818

“He’s home you know, him up there in that bloody great castle. Two weeks and we’ve not had one sighting!”

Miss Eden Sinclair pretended to tug her earlobe and then forced the small plug of wax in tighter. Old Mrs. Radcliff tended toward yelling when she was excited, and Eden’s hearing was excellent—in fact, beyond excellent, therefore she needed the protection the wax offered.

“The new Duke of Raven, do you mean? Is he in residence? It was my belief he hasn’t lived there since he was a young boy, or so Devon said.” Eden looked out the cottage’s only window but could see nothing in the darkening sky. However, she felt the huge castle that dominated the landscape loom above them. The people of Crunston Cliff had lived under its shadow for hundreds of years, and most especially the Sinclair family.

Sensing she had a willing audience who was happy to indulge her favorite pastime of gossiping, Mrs. Radcliff attempted to straighten her stooped shoulders as she rocked back on the heels of her soft, worn leather boots.

“Well now, middle Sinclair,” the old woman said, using the name most of the villagers did for Eden and her brother Cam, situated as they were below Devon and Essie Sinclair, and above Warrick, Somer, and Dorrie Sinclair. “You’d be right in stating that fact. The young Duke was driven from his home at ten years of age by that vile, perfidious father of his, and he never returned, even when the old Duke demanded he do so. In fact, he went away to war and has only now ventured home, nigh on eleven months after his father’s death.”

“Scandalous,” Eden whispered with just the right amount of awe.

Mrs. Radcliff sucked on her bottom lip, which seemed to draw in the entire lower half of her face as she had no teeth.

“They say he’s back to take a bride.”

“She’ll be one of those titled well-bred ladies who have fluttering eyelashes and white skin.” Eden gathered her basket off the table. “He won’t settle for just anyone.”

“Rather it was you do you, middle Sinclair?”

“Not likely,” she answered, moving around Mrs. Radcliff’s small cottage, making sure everything was clean and the old lady’s supper was laid out ready for her when Eden left. “I’d rather marry Elijah Barry.”

“He’s seventy!” Mrs. Radcliff cackled.

“Which should leave you in no doubt of my feelings regarding marrying the Duke, Mrs. Radcliff.” Eden swung her cloak around her shoulders. “Not that he would propose to a Sinclair.”

“Don’t protest too much now, middle Sinclair, those words would taste mighty bitter if you had to eat them one day. Plus, there’s that business between your families.”

“What business?”

“You’ll find out when you need to,” the old lady said evasively, and Eden dismissed her words. Mrs. Radcliff tended to say things for effect.

“And remember, child, your father was a gentleman, so there is no reason for you not to marry a Duke if it’s your wish to do so.” The old lady settled herself in her chair before the fire.

“Enough of this nonsense if you please, you’re having far too much fun at my expense.” Eden bent to kiss a wrinkled cheek. “And I must be away before someone comes looking for me.”

“Lord! Look at the sky, ‘tis close to full darkness, and you have to ride the cliffs to reach your home. Go now, before one of your brothers comes searching for you, and shame on me for keeping you so late.”

“Dev will be looking after the others, and Cam... well, Cam could be anywhere,” Eden added as she felt a weight settle in her chest.

“He’ll come about, girl, don’t you worry. He’s just lost his way for a while.”

“I hope you are right, Mrs. Radcliff. Because I for one am growing weary of his behavior.”

“Go, girl, before you cannot see a foot in front of your face.”

Eden laughed as Mrs. Radcliff made shooing gestures with her hands.

“Remember I am for London in two days with my family, but either Bertie or Josiah will visit with you until I return.”

“And you remember to keep your skirts touching the floor and your drawers fastened.” The old lady cackled. “And I want a of full accounting of every minute upon your return, girl.”

“Why, Mrs. Radcliff, I’m outraged at your words,” Eden said, pretending to look indignant when she wanted to laugh. “And me an innocent too.”

“Bah! No one can be innocent with brothers like yours.”

Letting herself out of the little cottage Eden gave in to her laughter as she collected her horse from the small shed, and was still giggling as she set out for Oak’s Knoll, the Sinclair home.

The weather was brisk in February anywhere in England, but as Crunston Cliff was situated on a windy ridge above the sea in Dorset, it was not often they had a warm night until summer was well advanced.

She trotted through the small village, where the shops were butted up to each other like a row of books wedged on a shelf. The paint was fresh, the windows clean, and Eden could never remember a time when Crunston Cliff hadn’t looked just as it did this day. She could name each proprietor and their children, as she and her siblings had played with the residents of the small town for many years. This was her home, the only place she wanted to be. The thought of London made her shudder. Smelly and overcrowded, Eden knew she would loathe it.

Uncaring that in doing so she was more than likely incurring her brother’s wrath, she urged her mount right instead of taking the left-hand fork that led to her home. Pulling out her earplugs, she tucked them down her bodice. Seconds later she was galloping along the cliff top.

“If this is to be our last night here, Atticus, then we will enjoy it as we see fit.” The wind caught her words and threw them over her shoulder. The braid her sister had carefully tended was soon free as she bent low over her horse’s neck, but Eden didn’t care. If this was to be her last night of freedom, she’d be sure to make it a good one and to hell with her family’s fury.

Both horse and rider were out of breath when she reined Atticus in at the end of the path. From here there was a sheer drop to the water on two sides. The roar of the sea was almost deafening as it buffeted the cliff below. The moon was bright tonight, allowing her to see the gulls that still hunted prey, and would do so until none could be found, their cries carrying on the breeze. She needed to remember this place when she felt stifled by the confines of London.

“Here we have solitude, Atticus.”

Not many ventured this far along the cliffs, as it led nowhere, so Eden was surprised to hear the distant rumble of men’s voices. Surprised, and annoyed that someone was about to disturb her. She was even more surprised that whoever it was had taken the route down Raven mountain and through the dense forest. They had a heavy foot, she thought as the sound of cracking wood reached her.

“Why do you suppose someone would take such a route in the dark, Atticus?”

The horse twitched its ears.

“Should we not kill him before we toss him in?”

Eden shook her head, unable to believe she had heard those words correctly.

“Seems a terrible way to die.”

She had two choices: make a run for it, and gallop home hard before whoever belonged to those voices saw her, or wait until they left. Could she leave, knowing the men were intent on murder? As the thought entered her head, Eden was suddenly gripped by an urgency that drove the breath from her body. It had her moving to the narrow, winding path that led down the cliff. Inhaling, she took a deep breath and nudged Atticus over the edge. She had ridden it before, but not at night.

Don’t think about what’s below.

Wincing as she heard a rock dislodge and tumble to the sea, Eden did not release a breath until she had reached the wide ledge at the base of the cliff.

“Good boy.” The hand she brushed over the warm neck shook.

“Our orders are to bind his hands and feet and throw him off the cliff. The man didn’t say anything about killing him before we do.”

“Seems a terrible way to die though.”

Nudging Atticus deeper into the shadows, Eden tried to make sense of what she had heard.

“He’s unconscious anyways. Bloody big brute; there’s no way we could have handled him awake.”

Eden’s heart started thumping hard in her chest as she slid from Atticus’s back. Was she about to see a man thrown to his death? What should she do? The men were drawing closer and would soon be above her.

“He’ll wake when he hits the water for sure.”

Eden looked at the sea as she listened to the men talk. Wind brushed the surface, producing whitecaps and swirls of frothy water. Did she dare try and save the man? Could she, or would it be too dangerous to attempt? Sea spray peppered her face as it collided with the rocks.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered into Atticus’s warm neck as she tried to think rationally, which if she was honest had never been her strong suit. Dev would kill her for this.

Removing her cloak, Eden then pulled off her boots. Forcing the buttons through the holes, she quickly pulled off her dress next. Her chemise would offer her more freedom in the water, which she knew would be bloody frigid.

“Don’t feel right does it?”

The men were directly above her now.

“What don’t feel right?”

“Tossing a man into the water like he was a lump of rotten meat when he’s still breathing. Especially this man.”

“If we want to get paid, we do what we were told.”

“But how’s his lordship to know what we do? We could just leave him here bound like this.”

Horrified at the discussion taking place above her, Eden prayed they did not kill the man first. Retrieving a dead body was not something she relished.

“Of course he’ll know, you dunderhead! Especially when the man he thinks is dead suddenly appears before him unharmed. He knows everything; wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching us now.”

Was it brave or stupid to contemplate saving the man? Was he a good person or bad? Did it make a difference; surely no one deserved to die in such a horrific way? Taking the knife she had strapped to her calf, she clamped it between her teeth.

If there is trouble to be found it is you who will find it, Eden.

With her eldest brother’s words ringing in her head, Eden crouched on the rocks and then quietly crept forward. Taking the knife from her mouth, she drew in three deep, slow breaths before once again biting down on the blade. She then lowered herself over the edge and into the icy depths below. The cold squeezed her lungs and she struggled to breathe through her nose. Pushing off as the water sucked away from the rocks, Eden kicked hard to get as much distance as she could between herself and the jagged surface before the next wave came.

The going was tough and within minutes she was breathless, the cold sapping her strength.

How far would they throw him? What if she was too late and he died before she reached him, or what if she never reached him and died trying?

Her family often accused her of being overly dramatic, yet for once she had reason to be.

Fighting the currents, she swam until the cold numbed her limbs, and they grew too heavy to carry on. Drawing a shuddering breath Eden trod water and tried to battle the panic that clawed at her as she thought about her family.

I will see them again, she vowed silently.

Focusing on the cliffs, she listened to what the men above were saying.

“On three.”

“What about four?”

“Why would it be four when it’s always three?”

“Who made it three?”

“It’s on bloody three and if you say one more word I’m tossing you in after him!”

At least the idiots had chosen not to murder the man first. She would take that small blessing as a good omen. She watched their silhouettes as they swung the unconscious man back and forward.

“One, two, three!”

Eden kept her eyes on his body as it flew through the air and then sucking in a deep breath she watched it hit the water a few feet from where she floated. Diving beneath the surface, using her arms and legs, she propelled herself deeper, following the body as it plummeted.

Eden was a good swimmer, her brothers had ensured that, yet as tightness began to crush her lungs, fear made her frantic to drag in air. Engulfed in terrifying darkness, panic choked her, making it harder to descend. Surging forward with another desperate kick she reached out and something brushed her fingers.

He was wriggling like an eel, his body thrashing for release. Grabbing one of his shoulders then using the man’s body like a ladder, Eden struggled to climb down him to reach the ankles. Taking the knife from between her teeth she began to saw through the ropes. It was sharp, but they were moving downward fast and combined with her terror, it made the task almost impossible. Desperate now for air, Eden wrapped her legs around his waist, gripped him tight and sawed harder on the ropes. In seconds she had his feet free. Her lungs were shuddering and her head felt light as the man twisted, also desperate for air. They had to reach the surface quickly so she abandoned the idea of freeing his wrists and gripped the knife between her teeth once again. Grabbing his bound hands, Eden kicked upwards. Together their legs propelled them through the black waters until they broke the surface seconds later.

Eden felt some of her panic ease as she took the knife from her mouth, and gulped in a huge, breath. Wracking coughs came from the man as he tried to suck in air and spit water from his mouth. Looking to the top of the cliffs, she was relieved to see no sign of his captors.

“Quiet!”

He did as she asked, and she tracked the men to the edge of the forest.

“They are gone.”

Eden could not make out the man’s features, only hear the deep rasps of breath as he drew them into his body. “Y-your hands.” Her teeth chattered from the cold. “I n-need to untie them.” It took her several attempts but finally she had him freed.

“I— How did you—”

“W-we must reach the rocks.” Eden cut off his words. “They may come back and see us, so we need to m-move fast.”

“Yes.” His words were hoarse as they both struck out for the cliffs. Their progress was slow, exhaustion making Eden’s limbs leaden. Putting her head under the water and using her hands and feet she swam as fast as she could toward the rocks. When she came up for air, a wave hit her and she spat and spluttered for several seconds, losing her knife in the process.

“Kick!” he yelled.

Eden took a deep breath and swam with the last of her energy. Seconds later her hands touched the rocks.

“Th-thank you,” the man rasped, gripping the rocks beside her. They both dragged in huge lungfuls of air. “I-I am not sure how or why you were there, but thank you for saving my life.”

Eden’s eyes stung from the salt water as she tried to look at him. He appeared big beside her, but she couldn’t make out his features. She wondered what he had done to deserve tonight’s fate and hoped he was not some horrid, nefarious man who had done evil deeds.

“Are you a good man?”

“What?”

“I-I need to know I have not saved a bad man.” Although if she was honest, she probably would have, but suddenly it seemed important to know, which was possibly because she was feeling light-headed.

“No, I am not a bad man.”

Eden believed the clipped words.

“We must get to safety.” Looking to where Atticus waited for her above, she wondered how they would reach him. The combination of cold and exhaustion had sapped her strength, and surely the man fared little better.

“I-I cannot m-manage without your help, sir. W-we must climb up to my horse,” she said, bracing herself as a wave threatened to drag her off. One arm wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled into the shelter of his arms.

“We will make it because I will let nothing happen to you.” The deep words were whispered into her ear. “I owe you my life.”

She felt a hand on her bottom then, and suddenly she was rising. Reaching the rocks, she scrambled to her knees and then reached down to pull him up behind her. He was a big man, and she had to lean backward and brace her feet. He collapsed beside her, breath heaving in and out of his lungs.

“J-just one more climb.”

“Put your foot in my hands,” he rasped.

“Let me help you first.”

“Put your foot in my hands.” This time the words held more strength.

Eden didn’t argue, and soon she was again moving upward. He was getting weaker and it took several attempts before their combined efforts got him up beside her.

Hurrying to Atticus, she grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around the man. Reaching for her dress next, Eden quickly stepped into it. She did not try to lace it, and would have removed her chemise had the man not been here. Collecting her boots, she forced her damp stocking-clad feet into them.

“You need it more,” he said, taking the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it around her.

“No, I have my dress, you have nothing.” She tried to push it back toward him, and then stopped as the sound of voices reached her once again from above.

“What is wrong?”

“Th-the men,” she whispered, dragging him to the wall of rock behind them. “We must hide—they are c-coming.”

Eden urged her stallion closer, so he stood before them with the cliff face at their backs. Arms reached for her, moving her right up against the horse.

“Be still now,” he whispered.

Eden laid her cheek on Atticus’s soft neck and nearly moaned as the heat seeped into her chilled body.

“Thank you.” He whispered the words into her hair, his breath briefly warming her scalp. “I should be dead.”

The words were fact and made her shiver. Had she not saved this man, he would never have woken to a new day. Never have loved or laughed again. She wondered if he had family. A wife or children?

“Of course he’s bloody dead, how could he not be? Coming back was foolish, and I’m the biggest fool for letting you drag me with you.”

Scared they would be found, Eden moved closer to the man, her face now wedged between his chest and the horse. One of his hands wrapped around her waist as the voices above drifted down to them. His breath was warm against her damp cheek, rapid puffs of air as he struggled to control the sound in the night air.

“He’s dead I tell you!”

“Do you think we should go down to make sure?”

“Make sure of what, you idiot? How the hell could he have escaped? His hands and feet were bound, and we tossed him as far as we could. He’ll be fish food now.”

The man stiffened in anger, and Eden gripped the front of his shirt, fearing he may do something to alert the men to their presence.

“But I’m sure his lordship wants proof.”

“And we’re telling him we saw his body floating on the surface. Now unless he’s suddenly sprouted gills and fins, Syd, he’s dead, so come on. My belly aches, I’m so bloody hungry. Besides, his snootiness is probably sleeping between some wench’s thighs by now. He usually has a different one each night, so I’ve been told.”

Eden listened as the voices grew weaker, tracking them until they had left the area. Only then did she move, breaking free from the comfort of the stranger’s arms.

“P-put your foot on my hands.”

“You first,” he said.

“No. I’m sure you are injured, whereas I am just c-cold.”

Ignoring her, he picked her up and tossed her onto Atticus’s back, and Eden heard his sharp hiss of pain. Then, using the rocks, he climbed up behind her.

“Home, Atticus.” Eden urged the horse up the steep track as two large arms wrapped around her waist.

The ride was slow due to the loose ground underfoot and the narrow path. Eden stopped briefly at the top to listen. Hearing no noises, she urged Atticus into a gallop. It was a ride she had undertaken many times in her twenty-three years, but she knew that never again would she travel this path without memories of this night.

“Faster, boy!” Eden urged the stallion as her passenger slumped against her. Following the base of the mountain, she veered right and galloped hard. Minutes later she reached the Sinclair family home.

“W-we are safe now,” she whispered, sliding to the ground when Atticus stopped. The man’s legs were unsteady as she helped him down, and he now leaned heavily on her. Pushing open the worn front door, she started calling for her siblings as the man slumped against her.

Chapter Two

“Where the bloody hell have you been, Eden? You should have been home hours ago!”

The eldest of the seven Sinclair siblings stalked through a door at the end of the hallway, his long legs closing the distance between them in seconds. Tall and dark, with a scowl that seemed perpetually etched on his handsome features lately, her big brother was the man she had turned to for support at a young age after realizing her father could offer her nothing but pain.

“Dear God, what has happened?”

He ran the remaining few feet as he realized she was not alone. He quickly took the weight of the man who was slumped at her side.

“He is unconscious, Dev. Please, we must help him.”

“You are both wet, sister. What has happened?”

“I will explain, I promise, but first we must see to him.”

“What madness has befallen us now?”

These words were from Cambridge Sinclair. The other middle Sinclair appeared beside her, reeking of ale and a woman’s scent. She intercepted the sour look Dev gave his brother.

“Hurry, Cam, help us,” Eden urged him.

He did not hesitate, as she’d known he wouldn’t. He may be a drunken idiot, but family was important to him. Between them they carried the man into Dev’s room and laid him on the bed, rolling him gently onto his side.

“Eden, what has happened?” These words were spoken by Essie, Eden’s elder sister, who hurried to the bed.

“No time for explanations, Essie, we need blankets and hot water and bring your supplies. This man likely needs your help,” Dev ordered. Eden fell against his side as he reached for her, giving her a brief hard hug.

“Are you hurt in any way, Eden?”

“No, I am well, but I need to explain—”

“Not now. I will have your tale but first, we must see to the man. But while we do, you can change out of your wet clothes, as your teeth are chattering.”

“Yes, of c-course,” Eden said.

“If you can manage it in your inebriated state, Cambridge, get some light over here, so we can tend this man,” Dev snapped.

“I’m not inebriated!”

Eden knew what was coming. Her brothers fought constantly over Cam’s behavior. “And now is not the t-time to start arguing, brothers.”

She heard the snap of Dev’s teeth, and Cam stalked away to get the lamp. He placed it on the table carefully, and then the brothers reached for the man, turning him gently onto his back.

“Christ, it’s the Duke of Raven!”

“Are you sure?” Eden looked from Dev’s shocked face down to the man.

His eyes were closed, black lashes forming crescents on his pale cheeks, dark hair damp and tousled. His face was made up of sharp edges and angles that were more pronounced as he lay motionless. Even leeched of color, it was a face that demanded a second look.

“Dev?” Eden accepted the blanket Cam wrapped around her before she looked at her eldest brother. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on the Duke with an unwavering intensity that he usually only reserved for disciplining his siblings.

“Did you rescue this man tonight, Eden?”

“Dev, let me—”

“Answer the question.”

She nodded. Her brother seemed agitated and Eden sensed that her arriving on the doorstep with an unconscious man was not the entire cause. It took a great deal to unsettle the eldest Sinclair, but suddenly the tension in the room had become so thick it cloaked each of them. Dev’s pupils had dilated, and both Essie and Cam were focused unwaveringly upon him.

“Dear Lord, so it’s true!”

“What’s true?” Eden whispered.

“I will tell you later.” He shook his head. “First we must remove his wet clothes, and check for injuries.”

Essie moved first, running from the room to collect her medical supplies.

“Go, Eden. You need to get warm, or Essie will have to tend you also.”

“Yes, Dev.”

“Thank God the others are in bed,” Cam said, running a hand through his hair. “Having the unconscious Duke of Raven in the house would have set them twittering.”

Eden agreed. The three youngest Sinclairs would have been beyond excited at having the man they had grown up hearing tales about so close.

With a final look at the Duke, Eden followed her sister. Once in the room she shared with Essie, she stripped off her clothes, dried her hair as best she could, and rubbed her body hard before slipping into her nightdress and thick dressing gown. Looking longingly at the bed, she could not remember a time she’d felt so tired. Exhaustion seemed to have turned her legs to jelly, and her arms felt heavy. She would sleep soon, she thought, slipping her feet into her slippers, but for now, she had a duke to see.

Dev stood watching from the foot of the bed while Essie was bent over him, studying the dark, angry bruise on his chest. His eyes were still closed and he lay so still she could believe him dead.

“His color is strong, so I don’t fear for his life,” Devon said. “Can you detect anything, Essie?”

Shaking her head, Essie stood up. “There are a few bumps and one of his ribs is cracked. He has obviously taken a thorough beating, but nothing life-threatening appears to be wrong with him. However, I think Eden should listen to his lungs and heart.”

Flicking her hair over the opposite shoulder, Eden placed her ear on the Duke’s bare chest. Ignoring the smooth planes and muscles beneath her cheek, she closed her eyes and focused. There were the usual sounds working in the body, but nothing irregular.

“Everything sounds as it should,” she said, feeling breathless at the close contact with the Duke and not understanding why. Eden was surrounded by men, and none of them had ever made her breathless.

“Getting him warm is important now.” Essie carried two flannel-wrapped bricks forward. Together she and Dev placed them beside the Duke’s body then tucked the covers around him once more. “I have water heating and will make him a tonic to aid his healing, and if he has not woken soon, we will attempt to pour some down his throat.”

“I do not doubt your skill, Essie, but do you think because he is a duke we should call a doctor?”

“No doctor, Dev, not yet,” Eden said. “Let me tell you what happened and then if he is not awake after that we will make a decision about the doctor.”

“You come and get warm, Eden. I’m sure it will be a miracle if you don’t take a chill from your adventures this evening. Imagine if you arrived in London with a bright red nose.”

“I’m all right, Essie.” Eden followed her siblings into the small parlor off the bedroom. She sank into Devon’s large chair before the fire.

The Sinclairs had two servants, Josiah and Bertie Hemple, who had been with the family for years. Josiah’s wife had passed and Bertie had never married. They were wonderful men who cared for the siblings as if they were their own.

“You’re chilled through, Miss Eden.” Bertie handed her a mug of tea while Josiah draped a blanket over her legs. The brothers then left the room.

Cam and Essie settled into seats, while Devon remained standing beside the fire, his large presence reminding Eden that now she would have to answer for her actions this night.

“Begin your story.”

“We were taking a last run, Atticus and I, after leaving Mrs. Radcliffe’s cottage.”

“Yet you knew I would be unhappy with your choice. Especially knowing the danger the cliff pass presents at night.”

“Let her speak, Dev.”

Eden sent Essie a grateful nod before continuing. “I was just about to return home when the sound of voices reached me.”

“Thank God you could hear them, at least that gave you time to get out of sight.” Devon ran a hand over his face.

“Yes. To start with I had thought they were either drunken locals or a couple intent on a private tryst, but then I heard them talking about the Duke, and deciding if they were going to kill him before throwing him over the cliff.”

“Christ!”

“Did you see who they were?” Cam asked.

“No, I was on the ledge underneath by then.”

“Bloody hell!” This time it was Cam who cursed. “You rode that bloody beast down the cliffs at night?”

“I am sure that by the time I have finished my story, you will both have roared at me several more times, so perhaps you can wait till I finish,” Eden snapped, relishing the bite of anger that was slowly replacing the numbing fear.

Both brothers glared but remained silent. Essie patted Eden’s leg comfortingly and urged her to continue.

“I had already thrown off my boots and stripped to my chemise by the time they were directly above me.”

“Why would you take such a risk for someone you did not know?”

Eden looked at Dev and remembered the urgency that had gripped her.

“I could not let him die like that, Dev, and neither would you have. But it was more than that.” She tried to tell her siblings how she had felt. “Something drove me into that water. An urgency I have never felt before.”

Dev made a sound deep in his throat.

“I slipped into the water and swam out as far as I could and waited.” She told them how she had followed the Duke’s body under the water, remembering the terror that had consumed her. “It was so dark, and I couldn’t find him until in desperation I kicked my legs one last time before I had to surface, and my fingertips brushed his head.”

“My God.” Devon pushed off the mantel and stalked across the room, the breath hissing from his throat with each step.

“How the hell did you get him untied and out of the water without running out of air? Christ, Eden, you could have drowned and we wouldn’t have known,” Cam rasped.

“But I did not.”

“Take that bloody horse off her and forbid her to leave the house, Dev.”

“I intend to,” the eldest Sinclair said, and for once her brothers were in agreement, even if it was against her.

“You will not take Atticus off me!”

“Finish your story, Eden; we will talk about the rest tomorrow.”

Sending Cam a dark look, Eden continued, finishing with the Duke helping her up the cliffs to her horse.

“Well, I am proud of her.” Essie gave her sister’s hand a squeeze. “I do not condone riding along the cliffs in the dark, but in this instance she has saved a life and that I will rejoice in. Although I confess I too feel the terror of nearly losing her.”

“And now I have something to tell you, and would ask that you hear me out before deciding I have lost my wits.” Devon sank into the empty chair after delivering these ominous words. He suddenly looked every one of his thirty years. “Check our patient, Cam, then come and sit before the fire,” he added.

“He sleeps.” Cam slid to the floor minutes later, leaning back on his brother’s chair.

They were so alike in appearance, her brothers, Eden thought. Yet they were as different as night is to day in personality. With the death of their parents Devon had retired from the army and returned home to take responsibility for his six siblings, a duty he took seriously. His family was his life and he would protect them with everything he had.

Cam loved his family just as passionately but allowed his brother to shoulder most of the burden for their welfare. He was a rake who drank heavily and kept company with any woman who would have him.

Consequently, the two older Sinclair brothers had an uneasy relationship. Both occasionally frequented London society, Devon only briefly and usually because he had business to attend, while Cam stayed until his funds ran out.

“Before I enlisted father told me of a story that his father had told him many years before. He believed it had been passed through generations of Sinclairs for centuries and thought it was time I heard it too. He asked me to tell you all when I felt the time was right... I believe now is that time.”

Eden felt it again, that sense of urgency she had experienced earlier.

“It is believed, that hundreds of years ago one of our ancestors saved the Duke of Raven from certain death. It is believed by the Sinclairs, and possibly the Ravens, but as I have never asked one, I can neither confirm or deny this, that our gift was the result of this event and—”

“It is not a gift, it is a curse,” Cam muttered.

“The Sinclairs became protectors of the Ravens from that day forth,” Dev continued, ignoring his brother.

“Bloody hell!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Dev said, acknowledging Cam. “Father said that his father had saved the current Duke’s great-grandfather from a fire in the village. Apparently, the old Duke had a soft spot for fresh-baked bread and was often seen at the bakers. One day it caught fire and our grandfather pulled the Duke free.”

“Can it be?” Essie whispered.

“Supposedly our ancestors were gifted this land by King Edward III in 1335 for our protection of the Ravens, who were—and still are—wealthy, titled, and owners of substantial lands throughout England. The Duke was one of King Edward’s advisors and someone he respected greatly, hence the reward and the order for the Sinclairs to protect the Ravens.”

“Do you have anything strong to drink in this room?”

Nodding, Devon pulled a bottle and glasses from a cupboard and handed them to his brother.

“If it has not been destroyed, supposedly there is a document King Edward III signed at the time, yet neither father nor our grandfather knew where it was. He believed that the Ravens have it stowed away somewhere in the castle.”

Eden couldn’t take it in. It all seemed so far-fetched, and yet they did live at the base of Raven Mountain, and they did have their heightened senses.

“I didn’t think again of the tale until my unit was called to fight. He was there leading the Eleventh Hussars.” Devon pointed to the wall behind which the Duke slept. “I asked about him, knowing he was the one who had grown up away from Raven Castle, yet also knowing that one day he would be the next Duke.”

“Yes, he was sent away to school at a young age.” Essie frowned as she recalled the facts. “He never came home, even in the holidays. Mother said she was surprised when the future Duke went into the army straight from school. She had been amazed that his father allowed it, as he had been ailing at the time and surely would not want his heir in danger.”

“Miserable old bastard that he was,” Cam muttered.

Nodding, Devon continued with his story. “His men said that as a leader he was unequaled, his every move carefully calculated, and his losses were minimal.”

Eden watched her brother take a large swallow of brandy before continuing. It took a great deal to disturb the eldest Sinclair, yet there was no doubting that tonight he was disturbed—greatly.

“He was taller than most men and when he rode into battle, he always wore a red ribbon on his helmet so they could see him. Of course this made him a target, but it also made his men fight harder to protect him. One day on the battlefield for some reason I found myself next to him. He fought like five men. I have never seen a man wield a sword like him; he was tireless. Our horses were side-by-side for a while and then I was drawn away in battle, and when I looked back, he was gone.”

Eden saw the demons chase across her brother’s face as he remembered the fighting. He did not speak about his days in the army often, yet she knew the memories plagued him.

“I still don’t know why I did what I did, but something made me search for him. I became desperate, reckless in my need to reach him, almost as if I were possessed by something, very likely as Eden was tonight.”

She caught and held her brother’s eyes briefly.

“Finally, I found him wounded on the ground behind his horse.”

“But surely you remembered Father’s words and that was why you went after him?”

Shaking his head at Cam, Devon continued. “No, it wasn’t until afterward that I remembered what I had been told.”

“What happened then?” Cam urged his brother.

“When I got to him, his right arm was injured, and he was fighting with his left. I fought to get him free and then held out my hand; he took it, and I pulled him up behind me. I rode for his camp, desperate to get him to safety. It was all very strange,” Devon added.

“Yes, that was how I felt tonight,” Eden whispered. “As if I had the strength of three people and that I could not give up until I had saved the Duke.”

Dev nodded.

“Did he see you in the battle, Dev? Did he know who had saved him?”

Devon shrugged at Cam’s question. “In truth, I have no idea.”

The silence that followed was loaded with tension as the four Sinclair siblings worked through what Devon had just said.

“And now Eden has saved him again,” Essie whispered.

“You believe it, don’t you?” Cam questioned.

Devon ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Once, with me, was perhaps a coincidence, but this, what Eden did tonight—risking her life and feeling the urgency I did, I just don’t know.”

“Did the tale say that it was always the Duke who was protected?”

“This is only hearsay, Essie, but I believe our great-great-grandmother saved the then Duke’s youngest daughter.”

“B-but he did not have our gifts?”

“Who?” Everyone turned to look at Eden as she spoke.

“F-father, he did not have a gift and he was a Sinclair.”

“He did, actually. However, it was not as strong as ours. He could see,” Dev said.

“We did not know that!” Essie looked indignant.

“He wanted it that way.” Dev shrugged. “However, the important thing here is that someone is trying to kill the Duke, and he has only just arrived home from his last campaign to take up his rightful place at Raven Castle.”

“And because we are supposed to care, we should do so?” Cam muttered. “As if I have time to protect a nobleman with an extremely large ego.”

Their father had had the gift of sight but had hidden it from them. Eden could not quite take that in as around her, her siblings discussed what Dev had said. He had made her life torturous with his constant demands of her, and all the time he had carried a gift too. Bastard!

James woke with fear clawing his throat. He battled to breathe as water closed around him, filling his nose and mouth.

“You are safe, Raven. Easy now.”

Blindly he sought the owner of that deep male voice. Reaching for the hand that touched his shoulder, he manacled it with his own, gripping the wrist tight.

“Come now, you are safe.”

These words finally penetrated the fog of fear, and clarity soon followed. Where was his angel?

“The woman?” he rasped, remembering that without her he would have died tonight. She had risked her own life to somehow be in that water to save him. James shuddered as he remembered the panic. He had been helpless, and it had been many years since he’d felt that emotion.

“She too is safe.”

A man came into focus above him. He was tall and dark haired, with serious green eyes. A shiver of awareness ran through James as he studied him.

“I am Lord Sinclair, and it was my sister Eden who saved you.”

“She risked her life.”

“Aye,” the man said as James released him, and he could hear the anger in his voice at what his sister had done this night.

“Water,” James croaked. He usually never let anyone help him. He relied on no one and had lived his life that way, yet when the large arm slipped behind his shoulders he was grateful for the support. He drank deeply from the cup, enjoying the cool liquid as it soothed his raw throat.

“It was an act of incredible bravery that some of the men of my acquaintance would be loath to undertake,” James said when Sinclair once again lowered him to the pillows. “She risked her life to save me.”

“It was an act of incredible stupidity.”

He understood the anger the other man was feeling. He had a sister and would be equally as furious if she placed herself in danger. Yet without the woman’s bravery he would be dead. Floating in the sea, his body unlikely ever to be seen again. His sister—No, he would not think about that now.

“And yet I will be forever grateful, Sinclair.” James looked him in the eye. This man was familiar to him; even his name stirred something in his memory. Had they met in London? No, he would have remembered. James was bigger than most men, and Sinclair would come close to rivaling his height.

“You are safe here with us, Raven, you have nothing further to fear this day.”

“Is your sister all right?”

“Aye. She took a fright, and is exhausted, but otherwise unharmed.”

“I owe her a great deal.”

“Sinclairs look after each other, Raven, therefore consider your debt discharged.”

James looked at the man again. Something in his memory slipped into place. Sinclair—dear God, so it was true?

“Did you fight at Quatre-Bras?”

“Aye.”

“So I also owe you my life?”

“I believe it is a family tradition.”

James muttered under his breath before speaking. “I did not give any credence to that story when my grandfather told it to me, but now it seems I must.”

“If it makes you feel better, my own joy upon hearing it was no greater than yours.”

James grunted in acknowledgment of Sinclair’s words and then winced as his ribs tugged viciously. “So I am currently residing at Oak’s Knoll?”

The man nodded but remained silent.

“Twice,” James hissed in disgust. “It seems I must place some belief in what I had thought an overdeveloped fable, and I am now indebted to two Sinclairs.”

“You owe us nothing, as I have already stated.” Lord Sinclair scowled, no happier than James with the conversation. “Have you any idea who wishes to dispose of you?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I’m sure there are many, but I cannot think which one would stoop to such measures as they did this night, and not here in Crunston Cliff, seeing as I have only just arrived.”

“Well, as I have stated, you are safe here for now. Whoever tried to end your life very likely believes they succeeded.”

“My sister will be worried if I am not there when she wakes in the morning,” James said. “I must return home.”

“I would advise against it, Raven.”

James did not like people telling him what to do, especially this man, who supposedly was one of his protectors. He chafed at the knowledge that his grandfather’s words may have been true, and not a story told to a child to intrigue him.

“Is he awake, Dev?”

James felt the air squeeze from his lungs as he looked at the owner of that voice.

Chapter Three

She was exquisitely beautiful, and he knew it was her, his angel.

James watched Sinclair hold out his hand and the woman walk to his side. Not overly tall, she would reach his chin. A long dark braid hung over one shoulder and feathered brows arched over dove-gray eyes. Tilted slightly at the corners, they were framed with long curling lashes. Her teeth trapped her lower lip.

The jolt of awareness he felt looking at her made his fingers curl around the bedding. It was merely a reaction to what they had experienced and nothing more, James reasoned.

It was unfathomable that someone so small and delicate could have saved him. Dressed in that worn blue dressing gown, she did not look old enough nor strong enough to have saved him in the manner she had.

“Raven, this is my sister, Miss Eden Sinclair. It was she who rescued you.”

Lord Sinclair wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders and held her to his side, and James could see the close bond they obviously shared. His family had been cold and distant, in fact, he had never been close to anyone, although he would try for his little sister’s sake.

“I am forever in your debt, Miss Sinclair. I will never be able to repay you for the risks you took on my behalf this night, but please allow me to try.”

“I did what needed to be done, Duke, and as I have recently learned it is something of a family tradition, there is no need to feel indebted.”

“I have just informed my siblings of what lies between our families, Raven,” Sinclair said. “They were understandably unsettled by the revelations.”

“I have known since my youth.”

“Yet, until today you did not believe it?”

Her beauty was disturbing in its power, James thought as Eden Sinclair spoke. He could not stop looking at her; such was her allure. He wondered how many weak men she had ensnared with just a glance.

“The evidence is certainly proving hard to ignore.”

“Yet, like us, I am sure you wish to.”

James nodded. He had dismissed his grandfather’s words, but then he had been six when he heard them.

“Are you sure you are unhurt, Miss Sinclair?” James said as he watched her yawn.

“Yes, thank you. The only aftereffect from the night’s activities is tiredness. I shall feel more the thing in the morning.”

James wondered how she could sound so dismissive when her actions could have resulted in her death this night. To have risked that for him was humbling, and extremely unsettling. He’d never had someone risk so much for him before. Well, that was not entirely true; her brother had done it also.

“Diving into a freezing ocean to save me is not something I can dismiss easily. Without you, I would now be dead.”

“Yet I have told you to do so, Duke, so please do not give it another thought.”

Her smile was small and tired, and James had the urge to pull Eden down on top of him and let her rest, which was ridiculous because James rarely had irresponsible urges; dukes could ill afford them.

“You cannot be serious? It is the only thing I will be able to think about for days to come, Miss Sinclair.”

“I believe I am.”

“I do not like to be beholden to people, and most especially because of something that happened hundreds of years ago, Miss Sinclair.”

“Perhaps you could endeavor to stay out of danger then, Duke. It would certainly make both our lives easier,” she said, still smiling.

“I don’t believe it is a laughing matter, Miss Sinclair.”

“You will forgive my sister, Raven,” her brother said. “We Sinclairs tend to find humor in situations that others do not.”

James had one six-year-old sister, and they did not tease or laugh with each other; in fact, they were barely acquainted, so the Sinclair siblings’ obvious closeness was entirely out of his realm of understanding.

“We are not so rare, Dev.” Eden Sinclair smiled up at her brother. “I’m sure the Duke knows how to laugh.”

“No, I don’t,” James said before he could stop himself, and instantly felt like a fool. He fell back on what he did best: being a duke. “Furthermore, I have no time to lie here bandying words. My sister will wonder at my absence,” he lied. In fact, his sister wished him to Hades.

“Are we bandying?” Eden looked from James up to her brother.

“We were, however, now we are about to explain to the Duke why he cannot leave alone, unprotected, in his current condition.”

“Is he all right?”

James looked to the door once more.

“And here are two more Sinclairs for you to become acquainted with, Raven. Both, I’m afraid, are given to bandying words and sudden bouts of unexplainable laughter also. With your permission, as there are many of us and we rarely stand on ceremony, I shall introduce you to them using their Christian names.”

It was informal, but as he was lying on a bed in their house and couldn’t bow or do more than nod, James agreed and reluctantly added, “My name is James.” Who was he to stand on ceremony when he couldn’t even stand?

“Cambridge and Essex,” Sinclair said, pointing to the man and woman as they reached the bed. James sensed some tension between these two. “I am Devonshire, or rather Devon, and the three youngest Sinclairs are at present sleeping,” he added.

“There are seven of you?” James said, bemused as his eyes moved over the siblings.

“Yes.” Devon sighed.

“You’re each named after a town or county?” James studied each Sinclair. He noted they all had black hair. However, Eden was the only one with gray eyes. The others shared the eldest Sinclair’s green eyes.

“Yes, my parents liked to travel and wherever we were... um, conceived... we were named after that place.”

James noted Devon wince as Cambridge spoke.

“So where did Eden come from?” he questioned, looking at her.

“Eden was the only one of us conceived here at Oak’s Knoll, Duke,” Essex said. “My mother always called her home the Garden of Eden, hence my sister’s name.”

“The Duke wishes to return home tonight,” Eden said, no longer smiling. The conversation was obviously uncomfortable for her.

“I would not recommend that course of action, considering someone has just tried to dispatch you to the afterlife, Duke,” Cambridge Sinclair said. “Your strength will be weakened by tonight’s events. I suggest you stay here for a few days. Whoever tried to end your life believes they succeeded, so we do not want to alert them otherwise.”

“And yet my sister will wake at 7:00 a.m. and I will be there,” James said, his voice steady.

“‘Tis folly, Duke. You are still injured and in such a weakened state you cannot hope to defend yourself,” Eden added.

“I do not believe whoever attempted to kill me this evening will do so again the following day, Eden. And please call me James.” For some reason, he wanted to hear his name on her lips.

“But—”

“Leave it, Eden, the Duke must be allowed to do as he pleases,” Devon said. “However, if I may suggest that you leave early before the sun rises, then no one will see you. I would also ask you to stay out of danger until our return, Raven. There will not be a Sinclair on hand should you require one.”

“You are leaving?” James said, ignoring the attempt at humor. His gaze lingered on Eden. There was something about the woman that drew his eyes, and he felt it was more than just her beauty.

“We are going to London for the season, Duke,” Essex said.

By the downcast looks on the faces of the siblings, James guessed this was not something any of them were looking forward to.

“Is there a problem with my name?”

“Problem, Duke?” Cambridge Sinclair said.

“I have asked you to use it, yet you are not.”

Silence greeted these words as the siblings looked at each other then back to him. Devon was silently allocated speaker.

“My mother told us your father was most insistent that he be addressed only by his title.”

James battled anger at the reference to his sire.

“I am not my father.”

“But you are a duke, and a powerful one,” Essex said.

“That has no bearing on you using my name.” James wasn’t sure why he was pursuing this matter when normally he liked the distance his title afforded him.

“It has when the closest we have come to such a lofty title is Dev.”

The siblings laughed over Essex Sinclair’s words.

“Where will you reside in London?” James asked, wondering why he cared.

“Our mother’s sister is the Countess of Wynburg, James,” Cambridge Sinclair said. “She wishes to sponsor Essex and Eden this season, but has expressed her wish that we all come to London to see her.”

James may not have spent much time at Raven Castle, but he had made it his business, since returning, to find out every thing he could about the people and events that took place around his estate. His butler, who had been with the family since he was born, was a font of information.

He knew the Sinclairs lived in genteel poverty, and that the previous Baron Sinclair was not a well-liked man in the village. James was unsure how their circumstances now sat; he doubted the current Lord Sinclair was a spendthrift, yet did not know him well enough to know if that was fact.

“I’d like to offer you some compensation for your part in saving my life—twice,” James said, although the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t care if this… whatever the arrangement between their families was called, was indeed true, he would not be beholden to anyone. Therefore, he would do what needed to be done in his eyes to clear this debt.

“We do not need your money,” Cambridge said.

“I would be honored to offer you my coach for the journey then—”

“Thank you for the offer, Raven, it is most generous, yet we are quite capable of getting ourselves to London,” Devonshire Sinclair cut him off.

Pride was something James understood as he had his share; the eldest Sinclair, he noted, appeared no different.

“I too am making for London, Sinclair, and wished only for some company for my young sister, as I will be riding,” James said, surprised that the words had come from his mouth. He had not intended to leave for London until next month and had definitely not planned to take Samantha with him. However, perhaps after tonight’s events he and Samantha would be safer away from here.

“Oh that will be lovely for the twins, don’t you think, Dev?” Eden rushed to say.

They were interesting to watch, these Sinclairs, the undertones and glances they gave each other. Almost as if they spoke another language, James thought as the eldest Sinclair glared at Eden.

“Twins?”

“Dorset and Somerset, our sisters, James,” Essex Sinclair said.

James suddenly wanted his sister to be in the company of the Sinclairs as they journeyed to London. She was such a shy little girl, who rarely met anyone her own age, and with the Sinclairs she would be safe. They would make sure of it.

“I would be grateful for your protection, Sinclair. Not for myself, but for Samantha.”

The siblings all looked at Devon, who in turn looked resigned.

“My sisters would be grateful for the company, Raven. I am sure you will also need a carriage, as your ribs will still be too painful to ride.”

“I have two carriages; both will be here by midday two days from now,” James snapped, his pride stinging somewhat. “I, however, will be riding.”

“Of course, if that is your wish.”

“It is.”

“If I may suggest that we depart before the sun rises in the morning, Raven, so no one sees you leave. I would caution you to stay hidden in the castle until we leave the village and surrounding area, so those intent on killing you do not realize you are alive,” Devon added. “Now we will all get some sleep and then Cam and I will rise by five, in time to have you home by seven.”

James did not like anyone telling him what to do but saw that in this Sinclair was probably right. He also knew when he was outnumbered. He had no horse or carriage, and his ribs pulled viciously every time he so much as breathed. He would not make it home alone. It chafed to be at the mercy of another.

He drank from the cup filled with horrid-tasting liquid that Essex Sinclair forced on him. Eden then removed his pillows and lowered him to the bed.

“Sleep well, James, and know that you are safe,” she said quietly as the other Sinclairs filed from the room.

“And you, Eden.” James touched her hand simply because he needed to. “Thank you once again for what you did, although a mere thank-you seems inadequate.”

“It will suffice.” She smiled, and then she was gone. Closing his eyes, James let the exhaustion he had been battling finally take hold.

...

“This is really not necessary, Sinclair!”

Ignoring him, Devon and Cam rode with him wedged between them the following morning as they escorted James home. The hour was early, and the darkness was only just beginning to lift and awaken the new day.

“And I had thought my stubbornness unequaled,” James muttered as he glared at the stern profiles of the two men flanking him.

He had slept deeply and now enjoyed the crisp bite in the morning air as it cleared his head. Above him, his home was slowly taking shape through the mists. The journey was not long, yet the climb up Raven Mountain was steep and winding, and his abused body protested several times, forcing a hiss from his lips that was not missed by either Sinclair. As they turned the final bend, James looked at the cliffs and then to the swirling seas below. This had never been his home, and yet something still pulled at him when he was here.

“‘Tis a magnificent sight.”

“Aye, it is,” James acknowledged the younger Sinclair’s words, his own sounding gruff as he dragged his eyes from the water that last night could have signaled his death.

“I still cannot believe your sister saved me in the manner she did, Sinclair.”

“It is something that will haunt me for many years to come, Raven.”

James grunted his acknowledgment.

“You did not tell us how you were abducted, James,” Cam Sinclair said.

James allowed himself to think back to yesterday—Lord, was it only yesterday? “I was riding through the village, had reached the end, and they rode up beside me. I heard nothing, so their horses’ hooves must have been muffled. Before I could fight back, they had pulled me to the ground and forced a cloth over my mouth. I remember nothing more.”

The Sinclairs fell silent, mulling over his words while James returned to studying his castle.

His father had forced him from it many years ago, yet now that he had returned his love for the old building had resurfaced. He could see the crenellations where the armies of his ancestors had stood ready to defend the family. The Raven flag flew high, as it had for generations, fluttering in the gentle morning breeze. The crest was etched in his memory as his father had intended: the maroon color depicting patience yet victory in battle, three heraldic lions denoting bravery, strength, and valor, and lastly, the cross fitchée announcing his ancestors’ unshakeable faith. James often laughed over the last; he had lost faith in his father when he was old enough to realize the man he was. The weak morning light cast the stone walls almost gold as he led the Sinclairs past the gatehouse and into the courtyard.

“Cambridge will stay at your side until you and your sister are ready to leave tomorrow, Raven,” Devon said as they handed their reins to a groom.

“I do not need a bodyguard,” James said as calmly as he could, and then winced as he dismounted, lowering himself gingerly to the floor.

“Just think of him as another set of eyes.” Devon smiled, which annoyed the hell out of James. “He will watch the reactions of the people around you to see if anyone looks guilty enough to have trussed you like a goose and hurled you off a cliff for fish food.”

“Are you mocking me?” James glared at the eldest Sinclair as the men walked into the castle. He wasn’t used to being the brunt of someone’s joke. Dukes were above that sort of thing; most often people wanted to please him but never had they ridiculed him.

“Just ensuring your survival,” Devon added.

“I have servants for that.”

“If you’ll pardon my rudeness, they don’t appear to be very good at it,” Cam said, stopping inside the main entrance. “And we seem to have the history that suggests we are.”

“I’ve never been inside here.” Devon lifted his eyes to the ceilings.

Huge graceful arches of stone swept above them, each pillar anchored by intricately carved pieces of wood. It was imposing, and if you closed your eyes, as James often had as a child, you could almost imagine the knights of old here.

He watched the Sinclairs walk around in circles, taking in the carved staircase and surrounding walls adorned with armor and paintings.

“You’ve never visited here?” he queried.

Devon shook his head. “Your father was not overly fond of the Sinclairs. In fact, had it not been for the....” Shaking his hand around, Devon tried to find the right words.

“Curse,” Cam supplied.

“Pledge,” Devon added, ignoring his brother, “My father always believed he would have dropped boiling oil on top of Oak’s Knoll.”

“I apologize,” James said curtly.

“The fault was not yours, Raven.”

“I believe we have established you are not like your father,” Cambridge added, walking to the wall that held rows of Raven ancestors all glaring down upon them.

James followed with his eyes; there was not one smiling face among them.

“I see where you get your scowl from, James.”

Cambridge Sinclair, he had come to realize, was a man who liked to tease and torment those around him, and did so with extreme accuracy.

“I wonder where that document is?”

“Document?” James looked from Cambridge to Sinclair.

“I was told that there was a document somewhere from King Edward, stating the details of the pact and gift of land that Oak’s Knoll stands on. My father said it contained our supposed creed.”

“Which is?” James raised a brow.

“To honor and protect the Ravens,” Sinclair said. “No one has seen it, however.”

“And you believe it is here?”

“Well, it’s not at Oak’s Knoll because it is not overly large and with seven enquiring minds living there, it would have been unearthed by one of us by now.”

James thought about the many rooms in his castle and decided he would have his staff search. If that document was here, he wanted it found. He wasn’t sure why, or what he would do with it, but he’d decide on that matter when and if it was located.

“I shall leave you then.” Devon Sinclair nodded to James, and then he was gone.

“You won’t even know I am here, James,” Cambridge Sinclair said, following him up the stairs.

“Somehow I doubt that,” James drawled as the man gave one of his maids an exaggerated wink as she hurried past.

Chapter Four

Three large carriages arrived at Oak’s Knoll before the sun rose of the day they were due to leave. Dorrie and Essie were beside themselves with excitement at the prospect of a new friend, while Warwick was still moaning about being stuck in a carriage with three girls. The house was a hive of industry, with Dev barking last-minute orders and Josiah and Bertie carrying luggage to the front entrance.

“You will ride with us as often as you wish, Warwick, and when you can bear it no more, you can sit with your sisters and Essie.” Eden held her smile as the youngest Sinclair brother dragged his feet toward the front door.

Eden then called to her little sisters, urging them downstairs so she could take them outside to meet the Duke’s sister. She didn’t want to see him again, because for the first time in her life a man had unsettled her, and Eden was not pleased it was the somber-faced Duke of Raven who had done so.

“I have packed your things, Cam, and left clean clothes and water if you want to change and wash before we leave,” Eden said to her brother as he strolled through the front door.

“Excellent.” Cam flashed her a smile before dropping a kiss on her cheek.

“Did you encounter any trouble?” Dev queried, joining them.

“No, he’s a bloody cold fish though. I tried to converse with him upon several occasions, but he refused to talk. Even over our evening meal, he sat in stony silence. It was enough to give a man indigestion.”

“The servants?”

Eden stood silently, listening to her brothers. She felt a frisson of fear that someone could finish what they had started the other night and hoped they got the Duke safely to London before those responsible realized he still lived.

“I don’t think the ones I saw were involved in the attempt on his life; most didn’t even look at him. In fact, only the butler spoke, and from what I gather he’s been part of the castle since the current Duke was a babe,” Cam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And the little sister didn’t lift her eyes from her feet when I was introduced to her, and then I never saw her again until this morning. She’s a sweet little thing, and I look forward to our sisters befriending her, as she has surely been lonely up there in that bloody great monstrosity with him.”

“I will tell you what I told your sisters,” Dev said, looking serious. “Be on your guard, use your senses if you think it necessary to do so, but for Christ’s sake don’t alert the Duke. He’ll have us tied to a stake in seconds.”

“I would never do anything to harm this family and I hope you know that,” Cam said quietly before he turned and climbed the stairs to his room.

“Perhaps if you go a little easier on him, he will not be a man hell bent on securing his own destruction.”

“What?” Devon said, pulling his eyes from the top of the stairs to face Eden.

“He needs your guidance, Dev, not your continual censure.”

“I do not have time to coddle him, Eden. This family is only just staying out of the poorhouse, and with a little help from him its turnaround would be hastened.”

Sighing, Eden watched her elder brother stalk out the front door. Hopefully a change of scenery would help her brothers rekindle the close bond they’d once had, and if that didn’t work, securing an eligible suitor with pots of money for Essie or herself would sort things out nicely.

“We are ready!”

Eden watched her little sisters come down the stairs. Even though the hour was early, they had made sure Essie and Eden dressed their hair exactly as they wished. Beneath their bonnets black ringlets bobbed and their green eyes sparkled with excitement. Eden sank into a curtsey as they reached the bottom, which produced a burst of giggles.

“Are you ready to meet the Duke’s sister?”

“Yes!” they cried in unison.

Taking a hand of each, Eden led them out the door.

“Oooh, the carriages are grand, Eden, we will not be bumped about in those!” Dorrie gasped. “And there are three, not two.”

They were indeed grand, Eden thought. Polished until they shone, even in the early morning light she could see they were the very finest money could buy. Bertie and Josiah were securing luggage, with help from the Duke’s men. The Duke stood beside one of the carriages; the door was open and he had his head inside. Eden could hear his words clearly.

“The Sinclairs will not harm you, Samantha. Please come out and greet them.”

Eden could hear the frustration in his voice as she and her sisters approached.

“Excuse me, James.” Eden tapped one of his shoulders.

He pulled his head out of the carriage to glare at her, stepping slightly to the left, which gave her enough room to slip in front of him and tug her sisters inside the carriage behind her. Lamplight allowed her to see a small child. Sitting huddled in one corner, with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, was the Duke’s sister.

“Hello. Aren’t brothers annoying? My name is Eden, and these are my sisters Dorrie and Somer.”

Samantha looked nothing like her brother. She was slight and pale, and her big blue eyes were filled with tears. She was dressed in yards of ill-fitting gray fabric, her clothes seeming to wear her instead of the opposite.

“Hello, Samantha, I hope we can be friends,” Somer said, climbing onto the seat beside her while Dorrie moved to stand before her.

“We have a basket of food with Josiah’s favorite cherry cake, and books and toys for our journey. Do you know how to play chess?” Dorrie asked.

Eden watched as Samantha straightened in her seat. Her eyes grew rounder as they darted between the twins.

“Never mind, we’ll teach you,” both girls said at the same time and then giggled.

“They do that a lot,” Eden said. “I’ll leave you alone now so you can become acquainted while we finish the packing, ladies, and then we will begin our journey.”

Backing out of the carriage, Eden heard her sisters chattering and smiled. Turning, she bumped straight into the Duke. He steadied her, then his hands fell away, leaving her with two large imprints of heat on her arms.

Two nights ago she had believed him handsome and nothing she saw changed that opinion. His strong, dark hawklike features were breathtaking. An angry purple bruise ran the length of his jaw, and one of his eyes was slightly bloodshot, yet even with these things he was still disturbing. Dressed in a black overcoat, he seemed even larger than he had in her brother’s bed.

“Thank you.”

The wealth of frustration in those two words tugged at Eden’s heart.

“Change is always hard on the young. We just have to give them lots of love and support and in time they adjust.”

Running a hand through his hair, the Duke winced and Eden suspected his ribs were still causing him pain. In fact, she imagined his body hurt all over, but of course, he would never admit that.

“The problem is we have only known each other such a short time, and she is still wary of me. I have no experience with young children, Eden. We are both struggling with the changes forced upon us.”

Eden was confused—hadn’t he said that Samantha was six years old? “I don’t understand, James. Your sister is six years old. Have you not spent much time in her company?”

“My father did not tell me I had a sister, Eden. I found out after he died last year, and I instantly resigned my commission to travel here and be with Samantha.”

“He must have been a terrible person to keep that information from you.” How could anyone be that cruel?

“It is not a moment I like to remember. My only regret was that my father had passed away before I could confront him over the matter.”

Eden saw the anger that still smoldered deep in the depths of his brown eyes.

“I understand your rage, James.”

“I think not. You come from a family that obviously loves each other—”

“Appearances are not always what they seem.”

“Meaning?”

Eden shook her head, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “I am sure given time you and your sister will form a strong relationship.”

“I pray you are correct, yet given the distance between us I am not as optimistic as you.”

“Children are resilient, James, it is adults that struggle to adjust to change.”

His eyes lingered on her face before he looked away, and it was only then she was able to draw in a breath.

“Have you recovered fully from your plunge into the ocean, Eden?”

“I have, thank you. And you also? How do you fare after such a traumatic experience?”

“Very well, thank you.”

The fatigue evident in his face contradicted these words. His ribs, Eden guessed, were aching every time he moved, and, like her, he had not slept well.

“If you are having trouble sleeping, Essie could mix up something to aid you.”

“I need no help, thank you.”

Men, Eden thought. Why could they just not admit they needed help? Her brothers were the same.

“Are you ready to leave, Raven?” Dev appeared at her side.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your face is very colorful this morning. How do your injuries feel?”

“I am more than capable of riding a horse, Sinclair, if that is your question.”

“Pride comes before a fall, James,” Cam said, joining them.

“Does every member of the Sinclair family use idioms to prove a point, like Cambridge?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Excellent,” the Duke snapped. “I shall endeavor to keep conversations to a minimum in that case.”

Eden watched the Duke’s eyes travel between the three siblings. He looked bemused and irritated but merely nodded before stalking back toward the carriage.

“Perhaps for the sake of a harmonious journey, we shall not continually annoy the Duke, as he is not used to siblings or indeed Sinclairs.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, sister?” Dev’s eyes were on the Duke’s rigid back.

“And I thought you my serious-minded stable elder brother,” Eden muttered as she too left Cam and Dev to see if her sisters had everything they needed.

“The man takes himself far too seriously,” she heard Dev say.

She was not about to divulge what she had learned about James and his sister only recently becoming aware of each other. Her brothers were good men; they would hopefully not do anything to outrage the Duke overly in the next few days.

“You can hold Lucy for the journey, Samantha, and I shall have Tibby and Dorrie can look after Bonny.” She heard Somer’s words as she arrived at the carriage behind the Duke.

“Well I’m glad that’s settled,” Eden said as she looked in the window, the Duke filling the doorway. Samantha seemed to have relaxed in the company of the twins and even offered a small smile when she was handed the doll made of rags.

“If you will step to one side please, James, Essie will join the girls inside. Here is our basket filled with wonderful things for the journey!” Dorrie clapped her hands and then pointed to where she wanted Essie to place it.

“Samantha, this is our eldest sister, Essex. She does not like to ride on horseback like the others, so will travel with us,” Dorrie said.

“And she is the best reader, Samantha, she makes wonderful voices and is a whiz at chess,” Somer added.

“There are so many of you.” Samantha’s voice was awed.

The Sinclair sisters all giggled at that. The Duke silently followed the conversation between the little girls from his position in the doorway

“Seven in total.” Essie smiled. “And I am very pleased to meet you, Samantha. We are going to be such friends by the end of our journey.”

“Well, I will have to leave you ladies to your fun,” Eden said, nudging the Duke to one side once more. She lifted her skirts to kneel on the carriage floor and give her little sisters a hug good-bye. Each planted a loud smacking kiss on her cheek. She took Samantha’s hands in hers and gave them a small squeeze.

“Samantha, do you have need of Miss Billerson before we leave?”

Samantha tensed at her brother’s gruff barked question. Did the man not know he was scaring Samantha? Good Lord, the girl was terrified of him, anyone could see that. The smile had fallen from the child’s lips and her tiny hands clenched the doll close to her chest.

“No, Duke,” Samantha whispered. “I have no need of Miss Billerson.”

“That’s silly, he’s your brother so you should call him by his name, not his title, Samantha,” Somer said, looking at the duke and completely unaffected by his dark scowl. “What is your name?

“James.”

Eden could hear the surprise in his words. He was not used to being questioned by a child.

“Do you mind if your sister and my sisters call you James?”

She should intervene; it was wrong of Somer to be so presumptuous, but in this instance, she wondered if the informality may help the Duke and his sister in some small way. Eden decided to remain silent for now, as Essie was doing the same.

“I-it would be an honor, Miss Sinclair,” the Duke said bowing elegantly, which Eden was sure wasn’t easy in a carriage doorway and with bruised ribs.

“There you see, Samantha, your brother wants to be called James. And, James, I am Somer and this is Dorrie, and I think you know Essie and Eden,” Somer finished with a wide smile that no one but the Duke could resist.

“If you need me, Samantha, then just look out the window, I will be there.”

His tone had softened, and Eden noted that Samantha had relaxed the grip she had on the doll. His words were telling to her. If you need me, I will be there. As he had not been in the past. It was obvious the man’s guilt sat heavily on his shoulders, and he was desperately trying to make up for the neglect he had unintentionally inflicted upon his sister.

“I will call you at once if Samantha requires anything, James,” Essie said, breaking the silence when Samantha did not reply. “And I am sure we can cope without your sister’s companion for part of the journey at least, is that not right, ladies?”

The girls all nodded, Samantha vehemently.

Giving his sister one last look, his face once again composed, he nodded to Essie then held out his hand to Eden.

“Come, Eden, it is time to depart.”

Eden took his hand and the contact traveled up her arm. Really, she must stop this; no man had ever had that effect on her, and she did not want to start with a duke, even if he was so handsome it made her teeth hurt. Pulling her hand free once she was clear of the carriage, she hurried to where her brothers waited.

“Good-bye.” She hugged Bertie and Josiah and fought the tears of leaving them and the only home she had ever known. “We shall return to you soon.”

“Enjoy every moment, Miss Eden,” Josiah said, and she saw that the brothers were battling tears also.

After several aborted attempts and cries of “Oh I forgot that!” the procession finally left Oak’s Knoll.

“I find laughing helps, James,” Cam said, “and then if that fails, a large swig of whiskey.”

Ignoring Cam, the Duke took up his position beside Samantha’s window. Warwick rode with Eden and chattered about anything and everything with all the enthusiasm that a seven-year-old boy could muster. Cam slouched in his saddle beside her while Devon took the lead. The Sinclairs waved to Josiah and Bertie for as long as they could see them, the twins leaning out the carriage windows and shouting their farewells.

“Enough now, girls,” Dev said when he, like Eden, saw the Duke’s expression turn thunderous.

“Yes, Dev,” they parroted and withdrew back into the carriage.

“He takes himself very seriously,” Cam whispered to Eden.

“I should imagine being a duke would come with serious responsibilities.”

“True, yet the old Duke did not die until a year ago. Therefore he cannot have come into those responsibilities... What?” Cam queried as Eden started to giggle.

“Dorrie just told Samantha that if she wanted to make James laugh, she should tickle him.”

“Christ, can you imagine anyone getting close enough to his snootiness to touch him?”

I can, Eden thought before she could stop herself. The man disturbed her and perhaps that was because she had never met another like him before. So arrogant and aloof, and yet she had glimpsed the vulnerable man beneath the stern facade. She could still feel his arms around her, the touch of his hand on her skin, and that would just not do, Eden reminded herself. This foolishness stopped right now because nothing could ever come of it, and what’s more, she did not want it to.

Warwick moved between his siblings, but eventually as hunger took hold he succumbed to the carriage.

Eden had felt the Duke’s eyes on her often, yet not once did he try to converse with any of the Sinclairs. Like a dark cloud he just rode silently behind them, yet she could no more ignore his presence than pluck the sun from the sky.

“You have to admire him, really. It would kill any one of us—with the exception of Dev maybe—to keep that quiet,” Cam said then yawned loudly with his mouth wide open.

“Perhaps you could shut your mouth while doing that.”

“I could, but then it wouldn’t annoy you quite— What?” Cam whispered as Eden lifted a hand to stop him talking.

“What?” Dev said, moving to her other side.

Still holding the hand up, Eden did not speak, just listened. When she rode with her family she never wore earplugs, wanting to know if any danger lurked nearby. The usual sounds filled the air, the gentle hum of servants’ conversation in the second carriage, the twitter of birds and rustle of leaves—yet there was something else. She heard it again, the snap of a twig. Eden sought the noise, yet it was still too far away.

Pointing left, she made the gesture of a branch snapping. Her brothers moved closer, their legs now touching, instantly alert. Eden watched Dev close his eyes briefly and when he reopened them his pupils were dilated. Cam lifted his chin and sniffed the air.

“Is there a problem?”

Shaking her head at the Duke as he drew near, Eden motioned for him to be quiet, which made his brows lower. People obviously did not shush dukes.

“I can see them,” Dev said softly. “Three men mounted with guns. Tell us what you hear, Eden?”

“I smell spirits and foul body odor,” Cam added.

“They are discussing how best to rob us.”

Chapter Five

James looked around him as the Sinclairs conversed quietly. He could not hear each word, but understood that Eden believed there was a threat ahead of them. The road was not exceptionally wide, but he would still be able to see another carriage or horse approaching, yet he saw and heard nothing. To the left ran a paddock as far as the eye could see and to his right a row of trees.

“Where is this danger?”

Ignoring him, Eden moved slightly forward of the line they had formed, and his impulse was to pull her back if danger lurked. However, her brothers did not appear overly concerned with her movements, so he kept his thoughts to himself. From the corner of his eye, he noted Sinclair nudge his brother and look at James. What the hell was going on?

“And I repeat,” James kept his voice low, “where lies the danger?”

“If you will be quiet please, James, I shall ascertain that very thing.”

James couldn’t believe she had just told him to be quiet. His eyes studied the rigid line of her spine, as he had done so many times today.

Her cloak was deep green with a wide ruffled hem, and it fluttered behind her as a gentle breeze rustled the trees. He had watched the way she teased her brothers and cared for the youngest with firm gentleness. Two fat curls had escaped her straw bonnet and bounced on her spine as she rode. He had almost asked her to tuck them back inside, as his fascinated gaze had been drawn to them again and again. He wondered at their texture. Would they be like silk against his fingers? Cool or hot to the touch?

“They plan to ambush us as the first carriage draws near, Dev.”

“Someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” James said.

“So we only have minutes, Eden, before they attack?” Sinclair said, ignoring him once more.

“Yes, they are preparing to do so now.”

“How do you know that?” James asked Eden.

“I have good hearing.”

“So do I, near perfect in fact.”

“Now there’s a surprise,” Cam drawled.

“Yet I can hear nothing.” James tightened his fingers on the reins so he wasn’t tempted to strike the smug younger Sinclair.

“By the look of them, they should not present us too much trouble.”

“I see nothing, Sinclair,” James scanned the trees to his right.

“They smell of spirits.”

“I can’t smell anything, Cambridge,” James growled, becoming frustrated that the Sinclairs were acting like he was not present when, if what they said was true, his sister’s life could be in danger.

“If you will stay with the carriages, Raven, we will take care of this small problem and return shortly.”

James actually shook his head to clear it. Had he just heard the eldest Sinclair correctly? Had he been dismissed like an errant schoolboy?

“If one of you doesn’t start making sense in the next few seconds I will plant my fist in whoever is closest. Your sister is excluded from that, of course.”

The siblings all turned to face him. Obviously unused to including anyone else in their conversations, they were surprised at his harsh words.

“We are about to be ambushed, James,” Eden whispered. “And do not have time to discuss the matter. Therefore if you will stay with the carriages, my brothers and I will deal with this matter.”

James stared at her and then the brothers. They were serious. Dear God, they were all mad! He had placed his sister’s welfare in the hands of lunatics. However, if danger did indeed lurk around the bend now was not the time to discuss the matter further.

“My drivers are armed and can look after the carriages. I will have them surround all three, then I will return to assist you,” James said steadily, once again making eye contact with the three siblings. He did not wait for their agreement, sure in the knowledge they would not defy his orders. He rode swiftly to the first carriage and began telling his men what he wanted from them.

James was stunned when he returned to find the Sinclairs gone. No one disobeyed him... ever! The most unruly of his soldiers had more discipline than this family. How could her brothers let Eden ride blindly into danger? She should be in the carriage safe with the others. Kicking his horse forward, he followed the Sinclair siblings. He would have several heated words to say to them when this was over.

He found them further up the road as he rounded a bend. Eden dared to throw him a frustrated look when he arrived. She placed a finger on her lips to quiet him. Quiet him, a bloody duke! Just as he was about to tell them what he thought of their behavior, the sound of voices drifted to him.

“I don’t hear no carriages!”

The words were slightly slurred and James could smell the strong scent of spirits now. He wondered how Cam had done so from so far away, and how Eden had heard them. For that matter, how had Sinclair made out the shapes of whoever was beyond that tree line?

Moving forward, James attempted to take charge, but Eden grabbed his horse’s reins and stopped it. Stunned that she would dare to do such a thing, James could only stare at her as she shook her head at him.

“They’re coming, I tell you, I saw them miles back and circled round to get you and meet here. Three of ‘em.”

“Three carriages? May be some willing wenches amongst them.”

James glared at Eden as the gruff voices reached them. Signaling with his hand that she return to the carriage, he followed it up with a glare. His gestures were wasted as she turned away to look at her brothers.

Sinclair signaled something James did not understand to Cam, then mouthed something to Eden that she seemingly understood. Before James could react to the fact they had not included him, yet again, Devon had urged his horse onto the road. Whistling a ditty, he headed toward the tree line the men were behind.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Cam shook his head at James and this time, it was he who placed a finger on his lips, and followed it up by tugging his ear, which James guessed meant he was supposed to listen.

“Stop. Where are the carriages?”

“I beg your pardon?” James heard Devon say politely to the gruff enquiry.

“There were three carriages on this road. Where are they?” someone demanded.

James had no idea how many men were waiting for them, but his first thought was to get Eden to safety again. He reached for her, intent on turning her horse around, but she pushed his hand aside and pulled a pistol from beneath her skirts, and then charged forward, followed by Cam. James followed seconds later when he had regained his wits.

“Halt or we shoot!” Cam shouted.

“Drop your weapons, gentlemen, if you please,” James heard Sinclair say. He arrived to find three men with masks over the lower halves of their faces. All were on horseback.

“They tricked us!”

“Come now, trick? I believe outmaneuvered is the correct term,” Cam said, riding forward to take the men’s guns while Eden and Devon still held theirs trained on them.

“Bind their hands and feet, Cam, and we will leave them attached to a tree and alert the correct authorities... when we eventually find some.”

“We could be out here for hours!” one of the men howled as Devon finished speaking. “We could be eaten by wild animals before they reach us.”

“Imagine my horror”—Cam drawled as he pulled the first man from his horse and dragged him toward a tree—”at the possibility that you may have to suffer in any way when you were about to inflict terror upon my family.”

“May I be of assistance?” James did not attempt to rein in the fury he felt as he joined Sinclair and Eden.

“If you will hold the front, Raven, I will assist my brother,” Dev said, offering James his gun. James snapped his teeth together and pulled his own from his coat.

“Right then.” The eldest Sinclair smiled as he slipped from his horse.

“I cannot believe you and your siblings would be so foolish as to ride into an ambush without first ascertaining how many men were involved and informing me of your plan,” James said softly to Eden. He refused to give vent to his rage and roar like his head was telling him to. He was not his father.

“We are used to dealing with situations ourselves, James. Had we taken the time to explain things to you, we may have lost our advantage.”

“I am not an idiot, madam, I can even understand basic instruction if spoken slowly enough,” James snarled softly.

“I do believe that was sarcasm, James. You are not so very dissimilar to us as you seemed at first.”

“Do not make a game of me, Eden, or you will very much regret it. I am a duke, and we are not a breed who enjoy being the butt of anyone’s jokes, least of all a bloody Sinclair’s!”

“Because we are beneath you?”

“I will not dignify that with an answer.”

She was watching her brothers, not him, but James was running his eyes over the soft skin of her cheeks as color flooded them.

“Of course, forgive my rudeness, but I do not like to be threatened, even if it is by a duke.” Her gray eyes were calm as she turned to face him, and James wasn’t sure if he wanted to shake or ravage her.

With the men secured, the small party headed back to where the carriages waited. After soothing the children, servants, and Essie, they once again took to the road. This time James was in the lead, with Cam at the rear and Eden and Dev each taking a side of the carriage the children and Essie traveled in. He had no wish to look at any of them until his anger had cooled, or he feared he would say something everyone would regret.

“You’re best to just spit it out, James. It can’t be healthy to have all that angst roiling around inside a person.” Cam’s voice carried to him.

Devon coughed and Eden muffled a giggle. James, however, growled softly and then ground his teeth. Neither action eased his spleen, so he spoke his mind.

“How dare you put your sisters and mine in danger!” James waited for the siblings to reach him. Each had left their position at his first word and now flanked him.

“They were never in any danger, Raven. In fact, my siblings and I did what we had to, to preempt just that,” Devon added.

“You allowed your sister to ride into danger, Sinclair—a woman!”

“And therefore unable to protect herself, James?”

James turned at Eden’s words; her face appeared calm yet her eyes were not. The laughter had gone to be replaced by an anger that suddenly seemed a match for his.

“I did not say that, Eden—”

“Come, James, we are all interested in what you have to say.”

James swallowed. How had the conversation veered out of his control?

“Eden, it is our job to protect you, not plunge you recklessly into danger where—”

“I may break a fingernail, or perhaps my skirts would be dirtied?”

“If you will let me explain—”

“Dear Lord!” Eden gasped as if a sudden thought had occurred to her.

“What?” James looked up the road. Was there more trouble ahead?

“Imagine if I was all alone without one of my big male protectors and I had a stone in my slipper.”

Cam was now laughing so hard he was snorting. Sinclair just smiled, but it was wide enough to expose his teeth.

“I wonder, James”—his name should not sound so sweet spilling from her lips, especially considering she’d spat it out through her teeth—”if you could locate my needlework.” Eden looked around her as if it would magically appear.

“I did not mean to suggest you were unable to care for—”

Eden held up at hand to halt his words and once again, much to his surprise, he complied. Her eyes flashed at him, cheeks flushed. She looked wild. A luscious wild virago, he thought, staring at her mouth. Hell, he wanted to close the distance and kiss her into silence.

“I understand your views, James, yet thankfully I have, for the most, forward-thinking brothers and do not have to adhere to them.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Ignoring Cam, she continued. “So perhaps for the remainder of this journey, you should endeavor to understand that I am different from the cosseted women of your acquaintance. Now if you will excuse me, my sister is calling me.”

Before James could react she had turned away from him, and he was sure she muttered “addlepated fool.”

Devon was still smiling, although he attempted to rein it in as James glared at him.

“A word of advice, Raven?”

“What.”

“My sisters do not take direction kindly. It is best to guide them as one would a bad-tempered animal. They are headstrong, intelligent, and spirited, and I would have them no other way, though I beg you do not alert them to that fact.”

“Sinclair, I would rather fall into a pit of venomous snakes than further acquaint myself with your siblings,” James snarled rudely. He then rode back to the head of their little caravan and refused to feel any guilt over his words. They had been wrong to take such risks, and he would not allow them to do so again while he and his sister were keeping their company.

…

By the time the small inn came into view James’s ribs were throbbing, he was exhausted, and more than ready to stop. However, he would rather have a tooth pulled than admit that to the Sinclairs. The remainder of the journey had been a long, quiet one, with the three other riders conversing occasionally but making no attempt to do so with him, as of course, he’d directed them to do. The problem was, he enjoyed listening to them and had even had a few things he’d wanted to add. Of course he hadn’t, and knew it would not be appreciated. He was obviously more tired than he realized because usually he shied away from contact.

Darkness had fallen and the small building looked inviting to the weary travelers. Lights flickered in the windows and servants came out to take their horses.

James heard Eden groan as she dismounted, and then stretched her hands to the night sky, trying to ease some of the cricks hours in the saddle had left her with. The gesture was surprisingly graceful, and he found his eyes on those bloody curls once again. She then made her way to the carriage that held her siblings. He joined her seconds later.

“They are all asleep,” Essie whispered when he reached the open door.

“Are you able to carry your sister inside with your sore ribs, James? She is asleep.” Eden’s words were as cool as the night air.

“Of course.” James had never carried his sister anywhere—she never let him get close enough—but he wasn’t telling Eden that.

A small chain was formed and Sinclair took Warwick, Cam, Dorrie, while Essie picked up Somer. Lastly, Eden handed him his little sister. Samantha slept deeply, her face relaxed in slumber. No fear clenched her features or clouded her eyes. Christ, she looked sweet. He had to inhale around the lump in his throat.

“Is everything all right, James?”

Lifting his eyes from the sleeping child, he nodded to Eden. “She never lets me get this close to her.” The words left his lips before he could stop them.

“She will.” Eden ran a finger down Samantha’s cheek. The girl wrinkled her nose then turned her face into her brother’s chest. She had never turned to him, only away in fear.

“Come, we will get her settled for the night.”

James did not think he could have spoken at that moment, so he simply followed Eden inside.

“There appears to be a problem, Raven. There is one extremely small room that has a single bed and a larger one with two. As you are the duke, the proprietor believes you should have the larger one, but as I’m sure you have no wish to share with—”

“I will take the small room,” James snapped.

“No.” Sinclair shook his head. “I could not allow it.”

“Sinclair, I am tired, my body aches, and I have no wish to discuss the matter further. I will take the room, as I also have no wish to share with your brother, who I’m sure would spend the night annoying me, a pastime I have already gathered he much enjoys.”

“It’s not personal, Raven. He does that to his siblings as well.”

“That does little to reassure me.”

“If you are sure?”

“Yes.” James nodded. He could sleep anywhere, and a small room did not bother him in the slightest; in fact, he was bloody insulted that Sinclair had even brought it up.

“You’ll beg my pardon, your Grace, I did not realize there were so many of you.”

James nodded to the proprietor. “‘Tis of no mind, a bed is a bed.”

“Very kind of you, Raven.”

James only just refrained from striking Sinclair for his simpering tone, as he still held his sister.

While James’s servants readied everything in their rooms and brought in the luggage, they were shepherded into a parlor where the comforting warmth from a blazing fire welcomed them. Lowering Samantha into a chair, James watched as she opened her eyes. Kneeling, he then untied the satin ribbons of her bonnet, his large fingers feeling awkward under her small chin.

“It is all right, Samantha, you fell asleep in the carriage and I carried you inside.”

“Thank you, James.”

He gave her a gentle smile that she tentatively returned, and he wondered how such a small gesture could make him feel fifteen feet tall. Perhaps because it was the first smile he had ever received from her. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he rose and looked at the Sinclairs. All the children had now woken.

Sinclair was carrying the youngest sibling on his shoulder and making the child chuckle as he whispered into his ear. Cam was doing something with a bundle of rags that James remembered was a doll, while one of the twins—which one was beyond him—was instructing him. Essie and Eden sat before the fire with the other twin draped across their laps, listening attentively to what she said. He had to admit they seemed to have a very strong bond, and he envied the comfort they obviously shared in each other’s presence.

“Right, children upstairs for a wash before dinner, I can smell you all from here,” Devon said, eliciting several loud comments of a teasing nature.

“Would you like to come up with us, Samantha?” Eden said, holding out one hand.

Nodding, Samantha slipped past James and took the offered hand. He couldn’t blame her. James was half tempted to take it himself; such was the charm of the woman. Although she’d probably bite him if he tried.

After the women and children had left, silence settled around the three men. A servant entered bearing tankards of ale, which he distributed to them. Informing them that dinner would be served soon, he then withdrew.

“I fear we are about to receive another lecture, Cam,” Sinclair drawled from his position near the fire. “I can feel the tension in the room.”

James, who had been forming and discarding words the entire journey, trying to find a tactful way to say what needed to be said, saw red at the eldest Sinclair brother’s cavalier attitude. He hadn’t disputed Cam’s request that they use informal names, yet his rank gave him the right to do so. He’d put up with their teasing and continual nettling of him, but no more. He would have his say now, and they would bloody listen. They may have saved him, and yes, their families had history, but enough was enough.

“I wish to reiterate that for the remainder of this journey my sister is not to be placed in danger, and I would hope you feel the same about your family.”

“Excuse me, James, but you have no right to tell us how to protect our family.”

Sinclair placed a hand on his brother’s arm as Cam spoke. “He does not understand us, Cam, or for that matter, Eden.”

“I understand what you did was foolhardy!”

“Eden can shoot better than any man I know, and always carries a pistol,” Devon said slowly. “Essie’s weapon of choice is a bow, and she is extremely accurate. I realized when I returned home that they must be able to protect themselves should their brothers not be near, so I undertook the task of training them.”

A vision of a pistol strapped to Eden’s soft thigh slipped into James’s head. He forced it aside.

“She is a woman, and as such it is your job to protect her, not thrust her into danger. We should have turned the carriages around while we dealt with the threat. My sister was endangered, and that I will not tolerate.”

Sinclair pinched his nose, a gesture James had seen several times in their short acquaintance and knew spoke of his frustration. Too bad, he was still bloody angry and they were going to feel the brunt of it.

“I would never put my family in danger, Raven, and if you say so again I will take it as a personal insult,” Devon said softly. “My brother and I would lay down our lives for them, and it would be unwise of you to suggest otherwise.”

“Are you threatening me, Sinclair?”

The two men stood toe to toe. Cam flanked his brother.

“If you wish to take it as such then that is your prerogative, Raven. But know this, the happiness and security of my family comes before anything else in my life.”

“I understand we are something of an anomaly, James,” Cam added, his voice now calm as he tried to ease the tension between the men. Suddenly he was the voice of reason, which James was sure he would find ironic when anger did not cloud his thoughts. “But I would ask you not to judge us and instead form an opinion on closer acquaintance.”

Sinclair shot his brother a surprised look. “Such eloquence, brother.”

“You must be rubbing off on me.”

“That you are different is obvious, and I am aware of the debt I owe you, but I will not allow you to take further risks where my sister’s safety is at stake,” James said softly. “I hope you can understand that.”

Sinclair did not reply as the children once again filed back into the room, but James could feel his anger because it matched his. London could not come soon enough as far as he was concerned. Then he could forget about the dark-haired sister with the soft gray eyes and lush body and her unusual family.

He had dismissed it at the time simply because he was concerned for Samantha’s welfare, but now James wondered how they had heard and seen those men today intent on robbing them. He had detected nothing, yet these Sinclairs had. Unease stirred inside him. Were these people a danger to the Ravens or like history suggested, was their intention to protect he and Samantha? One thing he was certain of, was that he would be watching them closely from now on.

Chapter Six

Eden had heard the argument taking place between her brothers and the Duke, but if she had not she would have felt the tension upon reentering the room with her sisters. Dev and the Duke were scowling, and Cam drew a finger around his neck as she looked at him.

His comments today had angered her, but that anger had cooled as she realized that he did not understand her or her family. How could he? Sometimes even she struggled to accept what they were capable of. To an outsider they would appear reckless, but in truth they had been in total control today, their senses had ensured that.

The problem was that the Duke, she was sure, had lived a solitary life that he no doubt controlled ruthlessly, and Eden imagined the women who had passed through his life had bowed to his every wish. Something that neither she nor Essie would ever do.

“Do you want a drink, Eden?”

“No thank you, Dev. I wish to talk with the Duke.”

He looked wary at her words, but what she had to say to him could not wait, especially considering what she knew was taking place above them.

“Your sister’s nanny would not allow her to come back downstairs with us, James. In fact, she locked the door to Samantha’s rooms and I heard her yelling at your sister.” She hadn’t actually heard her yelling, more a venomous hiss, but still, it would have terrified Samantha. “When I tried to enter the room, she would not allow it, and told me to go away. I would ask that you go upstairs and retrieve her at once.”

“I am sure Miss Billerson knows what is best for my sister, Eden.”

“In that I am afraid you are incorrect, Duke,” Essie said. “She is a mean-spirited virago who has your sister completely cowed, and I have just spent five minutes trying with little success to get her open the door.”

“Essie, calm down, love.” Dev came forward to place an arm around her.

“‘Tis true, Dev, Miss Billerson had Samantha in tears when she tore the doll from her earlier, and said the only fit place for it was the fire,” Dorrie said.

“She is mean and has a mouth that does not know how to smile,” Somer added.

Eden could see their words had shocked James.

“I am sure I would have heard had Samantha’s nanny been mistreating her.”

“From whom, James? Certainly not Miss Billerson, and as you said, Samantha is scared of you.”

He winced as she spoke, and she hated causing anyone pain, but Eden knew this must be dealt with. She could not allow that sweet little girl to suffer any longer.

“Samantha told us that she is afraid of Miss Billerson because she makes her kneel on the cold floor to say her prayers for an hour five times a day. She calls Samantha the devil’s spawn and says that it is her duty to rid her of the evil that is in her soul.” Dorrie stepped in front of Eden to speak to the Duke, and Somer followed. “But she is not evil, James.”

“When can we eat?”

“Soon, Warwick.” Cam picked up his brother and moved closer to the fire. Dev followed, leaving the Duke alone with four angry Sinclair sisters.

“Surely I would have known.” He said the words mostly to himself as he looked at each sister. Eden saw the exact moment he realized they were speaking the truth.

“Excuse me.”

He rushed from the room and Eden followed. His long legs took the stairs two at a time, even though she knew the action must hurt his ribs. She lifted her skirts and tried to keep pace with him. Reaching the top, she pulled out her earplugs and heard Miss Billerson’s nasty words.

“You must pray longer this evening to purge the evil influence of the heathen Sinclairs.”

James did not stop at the door. Instead, dropping his shoulder, he charged at it. The door gave and slammed into the wall, and he stalked inside with Eden following.

She saw Samantha huddled on her knees praying beside the bed. Miss Billerson stood behind her with a switch in her hand, which she appeared to be using to poke Samantha.

“What is the meaning of this, your Grace!” Miss Billerson glared at Eden. “I cannot be expected to instruct your sister with these interferences. These Sinclair women are undermining what I have striven months to teach your sister.”

“Have you ever struck my sister?”

Eden shivered at the words. His tone may have been soft but the thread of rage was evident to all in the room.

“Come to me, Samantha,” Eden said softly as she saw the Duke’s fists clench at his side. The little girl looked at her brother, then to Miss Billerson, before scrambling to her feet and running to Eden. Picking Samantha up, she held the shivering body close. “It’s all right now, sweetheart.”

“It is important to rid her of the evil influences.” Miss Billerson’s words now held a quiver.

“Answer the question.”

She looked like a turkey as she gulped in several mouthfuls of air, but Eden felt no pity for the woman. She had tormented this poor child.

In two strides the Duke had the stick in his hands. Lifting it high, he drew his arm back.

“You cannot strike me, your Grace!”

Eden thrust Samantha to Essie, who had just entered the room. Stepping forward, she wrapped her fingers about James’s raised arm.

“While I wish to see this woman punished as much as you, James, it will not help if you do so in front of your sister. Nor will you like how it makes you feel when you come to your senses.” The muscles beneath her fingers were rigid, each one tensed and poised to strike.

“Lower the switch, James.”

Eden saw the turmoil in his gaze as he slowly did as she asked. He then braced the wood between both hands and snapped it in front of the woman before throwing it at her feet.

“I cannot strike you, and do you know why, Miss Billerson?”

Shaking her head, the woman took a step backward.

“Because the blame is as much mine as yours.”

Eden heard the self-loathing in his voice. He was blaming himself for Samantha’s treatment at the hands of this woman, because in his eyes, he had neglected his sister himself.

“Had I taken more interest in my sister’s welfare, she would not have suffered at your hands. Now pack your bags and leave this inn tonight.”

“But where will I go?”

“I will send a servant and carriage to take you to the nearest town, and from there you are on your own.”

“Your sister needs me, your Grace, she has an evil soul that must be purged,” Miss Billerson pleaded.

“No!” James roared. “Never speak of my sister again. She is all that is pure and sweet and it is you who are filled with evil, you and that man who fathered her.”

Eden watched him battle with the rage inside him.

“Now leave before I withdraw the offer of my carriage.”

She watched the woman scurry from the room, and saw the foot Essie, her sweet gentle sister, stuck out to send Miss Billerson flying out the door to land in a heap outside.

“Oh dear, Samantha, look at silly Miss Billerson lying there on the floor.”

The girl lifted her head from Essie’s shoulder briefly before burrowing it back down.

“Take Samantha to our room please, Essie. James will come for her shortly.”

Eden watched her sister leave, and then she was alone with the Duke. Angry, confused, and hurting, not unlike a wounded animal, he stood with his back to her, fists clenched, shoulders straight. She could hear the rasp of his breathing as he struggled to control his emotions. Moving forward, she placed her hand on his arm once more.

“James, please, she is gone now and Samantha will be all right, I promise you.”

“I should have known!” The words sounded like they had been ripped from his chest. “We were thrust upon each other so suddenly. I-I thought I had done the right thing by getting a governess for her. She was so scared of me, every look and touch she would flinch, and I was helpless to know how to reach her.”

“You will both begin to heal now.”

He turned so suddenly Eden would have fallen backward if he had not steadied her. His hands gripped her arms, pulling her closer.

“He didn’t tell me about her because he wanted to break her like he tried to do to me. That sweet little girl lived with that monster and I know exactly what he did to her, as he did it to me before I was forced to leave.”

“Who, your father?” Eden whispered. He was looking at her but not really seeing, lost in the memories of his childhood.

“Yes, he destroyed everything he touched.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eden had had a father who tried to break her, but her siblings had kept her sane.

“Please, James, do not be too hard on yourself. The situation that was thrust upon you was not of your making and cannot have been easy on either you or Samantha. Sometimes things appear to be different than what they actually are. You did not know she was being mistreated by Miss Billerson, and your sister, for whatever reason, chose not to inform you.”

“Samantha’s care lies solely with me, Eden, and I have failed her. Therefore, it is I who am to blame.”

“No!” Eden said, grasping the lapels on his jacket as he tried to brush past her.

“Yes!” He tried to ease her aside, his hands moving to her waist.

“And if you are to blame, what then? Will you chastise yourself and put more distance between you and your sister? Surely that can help no one.”

“Eden, now is not the time for this conversation. I need to see Samantha and you need to go back to your family.”

She placed one hand on his chest and wondered what was going on behind those eyes. They were suddenly shuttered—she could read nothing in the brown depths. Where before there had been rage, they were now blank.

“Please talk to your sister calmly, James. She needs your understanding and love—”

He shut her up by kissing her.

Eden was stunned. His lips were soft when she’d expected them to be hard, his hands on her back branding her through her clothing, and Eden felt weakness flood her veins. Following that was a need for more. The urgency she had experienced saving his life was back. She needed him to touch her, wrap his arms around her body and hold her close. She wanted to feel his skin, feel his hands on her body. Dear Lord, it was a kind of madness that filled her. As if she wanted to crawl inside this man and be part of him.

His mouth ravaged her lips; where one kiss stopped another started until Eden couldn’t draw a rational thought into her head. Climbing to her toes, she threw her arms around his neck and held on. His chest was hard against her breasts, the pressure almost too painful to bear. She felt his lips nip her chin then move to her neck and a moan welled from deep inside her, her head dropping backward to allow him better access.

“No!”

Eden stumbled forward as the Duke wrenched himself away from her. “No,” he said again, this time softly as his hands steadied her. “I cannot take advantage of you like this, not with your family below. I owe you too much to disrespect you like that.”

“I-I do not understand?” Eden tried to focus on his words.

“I was angry, Eden, and needed an outlet for that anger. Unfortunately, you were it.” He raked a hand through his hair, sending the dark waves in several directions.

Flinching, she took a step backward as his words doused the flames inside her.

“I used you and that is beneath me. I beg you to forgive me.”

God, that hurt. He had felt none of the wondrous emotions that Eden had. He had used her to slake his rage, and nothing more.

“I understand.” Eden lifted her chin. She would not show this man how much his words had hurt her, but she felt a need to strike at him as he had her. “And I would appreciate it if you stuck to the original pact.”

“Pact?” he queried as Eden walked to the door.

“Turn to me only when your life is threatened, Duke. We both know that this is all my family is good for in your eyes. After all, the proof is already laid out before you.”

Eden would have smiled at the sound of his teeth clamping together if she were not biting her lip to stop herself from crying.

“Eden, let me—”

But she was already walking to the door, and once she had passed through it, she closed it quietly behind her. Head high, she continued to her room, where she put a smile on her face for Samantha. After hugging the little girl, she then moved behind the screen to change her clothes.

When James arrived, she had just finished. Essie greeted him, and then the sisters left the room, leaving the Raven siblings alone together.

Dev shot Eden a look as she stepped into the room, his brows lowering as he studied her face. He knew her better than anyone, and no matter how much she tried to hide how she was feeling, he would know. However, much to her relief, he chose not to question her.

The Sinclairs were their usual boisterous selves at the dinner table. Occasionally eyes strayed to the two empty seats, yet no one commented. James and his sister had as yet not returned. Beef stew and bread were brought to the table and they fell upon the meal like a pack of ravenous animals.

Dev tried to rein his siblings in but Eden suspected his hunger was as great as theirs, and soon he too was shoveling in large mouthfuls. She sat to his left and tried to eat, which was not easy as she had no appetite.

The Duke’s kiss had been unexpected and that was why she was unsettled, Eden reasoned. Surely if she had received several such kisses she would realize just how unspectacular James’s had been. Yes, Eden told herself, this was why she had reacted as she had, there was nothing to compare the experience with. Once she was in London she was sure to receive another kiss from someone, and would see instantly that James’s kisses were in fact average, or even below average. Feeling much better about the entire incident, she was able to sit calmly as the door opened and in walked the Duke and his sister.

None of the Sinclairs commented on their reappearance, although by silent mutual consent they started using their table manners, and ate as if they were dining with the Royal Family.

James guided Samantha around the table. He watched one of the twins move to the next seat, thus leaving a space between them for his sister.

“Thank you, ladies.” He held out the chair for Samantha and then pushed it closer to the table once she was seated. His little sister gave him a nod, her face serious.

“You’re welcome, James,” Dorrie or Somer said. He really must work out one from the other.

The only other empty seat was next to a twin and beside Warwick Sinclair, which was a new experience for James, as he had never shared a meal with children, and in all honesty was not particularly looking forward to the prospect. His father had believed children should be kept out of sight while the adults ate, and in this James had agreed; the Sinclairs apparently did not.

“Pass the potatoes to James, Warwick.”

James had found Samantha with Essex and Eden. When he had entered the room, they had silently left. Essie had given him a gentle smile; her sister had ignored him, which was no more than he had deserved.

Crouching before his solemn-faced sister, he had then apologized to her. He had told her what he should have months ago—explained that he had not known of her existence until the death of their father, and that he had had no idea how to care for her, and that was why he employed Miss Billerson.

“I promise to do better now, Samantha, but you must trust me.”

Her reply to his words had made him ill.

“Do you promise not to st-strike me if I say something you dislike?”

Her face had been clenched in fear and James had known how much those words had cost her.

“I will never hurt you, Samantha, I promise,” he had vowed. She had looked at him for a long time and then just when James had believed she would not answer him she had nodded and taken the hand he held out to her. He had stayed there for several minutes, just clutching her small fingers until they both felt calmer. Only then had he stood and led her down to their evening meal.

Eden sat across from James, careful to look at everyone but him. She had changed into a gown of the palest lilac. Matching ribbons were threaded through the neckline, which settled on the top of her breasts, and he felt his body tighten as he remembered them pressed to his chest. Her hair was simply pulled together at her nape, yet the look was more alluring than any he had seen in society.

She was danger to James. Dangerous in a way that would make the wall he had built to protect himself crumble. Just pressing his lips to hers had created a fire inside him, and that told him to keep his distance from her in the future. James did not want to lose control; control was how he had survived. Control ensured his life was as it should be with no deviations.

He had said what he had to hurt her, to push her away from him, and her reply had surprised him. She hadn’t cried or cursed, just stated calmly that in the future she would be available to him only in the capacity of a rescuer. She had spirit, Miss Eden Sinclair, and were he a man wanting a spirited wife he would look no further, but he wasn’t and never would be. James had no room in his life for anyone but Samantha from this day forth.

“I choose dessert!”

James was wrenched from his thoughts by the youngest Sinclair.

“Oh please, you always choose dessert. Can we not stretch our brains further than food?” Eden scoffed while winking at her youngest brother.

“Tartlets!” Warwick Sinclair cried, bouncing up and down in his seat.

James looked at the boy. Surely he was not asking too much to eat his meal with only the gentle hum of conversation, if indeed there must be conversation. And what the hell was he doing screaming out the word tartlets? He had not seemed unstable, yet surely this conversation indicated something was not as it should be inside his head. But then, considering his siblings....

“You cannot just cry tartlets. What kind?”

James swiveled in his chair to look at one of the twins, who was questioning her brother. What were they talking about? There were no tartlets on the table. Perhaps half of the Sinclairs were unbalanced but hid it well? Samantha just smiled and shook her head as he gave her a questioning look.

“Berry tartlets and the accompanying sentence must be in Latin.”

“I’ll take berry,” Essex Sinclair said slowly. She appeared deep in thought.

“I’ll take tartlets.” Cambridge Sinclair laughed. “I’ve always been partial to tart... lets.”

Devon Sinclair glowered at his brother then rolled his eyes when Cam poked out his tongue.

How the hell was James to digest his food with all this nonsense, whatever it was, going on around him? He could cope with a child calling him James—just—but this carry on was not good for his digestion.

“But Egbert roasts rodents year-round? You could not have done better than that?” Essie scoffed, she then added a sentence in faultless Latin.

Eden laughed as her sister poked out her tongue. It was a beautiful sound, rich and full and the smile reached her eyes. Why the hell did he have to notice things like that about her, and why was Essex quoting phrases that included rodents at the dinner table? James’s head was beginning to ache. He wondered if he should leave the room and take his sister with him before the Sinclairs displayed more of their disturbing behavior.

“Tactfully Amelia Rose taught little Egbert toasting skills,” Cambridge Sinclair said in a slow drawl, and then he too spoke in Latin. James could find no fault in his pronunciation either.

“Cam, that was wonderful.”

“Thank you, sweeting.” Cam blew the twin who spoke a kiss.

“Dare one enquire what is going on?” James asked when he could no longer stand being left in the dark. He liked to be in control at all times, and these Sinclairs had a way of wresting it from him. In fact, they showed absolutely no regard for his title or standing in society, which, he silently added, was far above theirs.

“Oh sorry, James, it was rude of us not to explain first.” One of the twins said. “We play word games. Someone chooses two words. A short verse is then made up using the letters of the word. Once it has been spoken then it must be repeated in whatever language is selected. Obviously the sentences are not constructed the same way, or with the same letters. Take Spanish for example deadly means mortal and--”

“Thank you, yes I understand your meaning, Miss…”

“Somerset,” she said. “Dorset is shorter than I, and my teeth protrude further than hers, if you need a way to identify us.”

“Thank you for the explanation, and the tips on identifying you from your sister, Miss Somerset. For a brief moment I wondered what my sister and I had strayed into,” James said, managing a thin smile.

“Bedlam, Raven,” Devon drawled. “But we like it that way.”

James held the other man’s eyes. The eldest Sinclair was angered and he had a hunch it was not just from their earlier discussion. Had Eden told him about their kiss?

“Each to their own, Sinclair.”

“Greek gods,” Cambridge Sinclair stated, then forked a large mouthful of meat into his mouth.

“You try, James,” Somerset prompted.

Dear God, no!

“Go on, James.” Samantha’s gentle words made James swallow. How could he refuse her when she was actually talking to him, and using his name without his instigating the conversation.

“If it’s too much for you, Raven....”

Glaring at Devon Sinclair, James said, “I’ll take the word Greek and will repeat the phrase in Russian. I realize that no one will understand what I am saying, but—”

“I can,” a high-pitched voice said to his left.

“You speak Russian, Miss Somerset?” James pinched the bridge of his nose hard. He wasn’t sure if he was standing on his head or feet around these people.

“Do you believe because we are not overly plump in the pocket we are therefore unintelligent, James?” Eden said the words and if her glare became any more heated he would be torched where he sat.

“I do not judge people because they are born either rich or poor, Eden.” Which was only partially true, he realized, and then he wondered when he’d become a snob. The look she gave him told James she did not believe a word he had spoken.

“And I’ll take gods,” Eden said, looking at James’s left ear, “and I’ll repeat in Spanish.”

She would, the little shrew. He just bet she was bloody fluent in any language he chose to name. They were a very unusual family, these Sinclairs.

“Our mother had a fondness for languages, Raven, and passed it on to her children.”

James nodded at Sinclair’s words before he said, “Goddess Rhode eats eels kindly.” He then added a sentence in Russian. He spoke several languages, but Russian was his favorite.

“Not bad for a first attempt.” Cambridge Sinclair raised his glass to James. “Your pronunciation needs work, but we understood it.”

Not bad? It was bloody brilliant, James thought, refusing to speak his thoughts out loud.

“Gaia observes deadly silence,” Eden said.

She may be bloody beautiful but she was also damned annoying. James scowled as Eden spoke in soft flowing Spanish and then smiled at him, the gesture never reaching her eyes.

“And on that note, Warwick, Dorrie, and Somer, please finish your food as it is now time for you to retire,” Devon said.

“What is the extra ingredient in this pie, Essie?” Warwick asked around a mouthful.

“Saffron,” Essex said. “Would you like Eden and me to take Samantha with us, James? She can sleep with the girls if she wishes to. They will share one bed and we the other,” she added.

James hadn’t thought further than firing his sister’s nanny, but of course his sister would need a companion until they reached London.

“I would be grateful, thank you, Essex. Are you happy with these arrangements, Samantha?” James helped his sister from her seat.

“Yes, thank you, James.”

The Sinclair siblings hugged their elder brothers before retiring. Samantha nodded his way, and James understood theirs was a relationship that needed a great deal of time to help it grow into something comfortable before they freely gave hugs, if they ever would. He understood that, but still felt a dull ache in his chest as he watched his little sister leave the room.

After bidding the brothers good night, he followed, eager to find his bed as his body was now one large ache. Each abused muscle was stiff and sore and his head throbbed.

“Your room is most unpleasant, your Grace, and the mattress lumpy.”

These words greeted James as he entered his room. His valet was a small bird of a man who had been with him for many years. They rubbed along together because neither had much to say, but he tended to fuss more than James liked.

“I shall survive, Brenton.”

Stripping off his clothes, James washed and pulled on his dressing gown. He rarely slept in clothes, as he was a restless sleeper and they ended up trapped around his body, waking him. Tonight, however, he was to share the inn with the Sinclairs and had no wish to be roused suddenly in a naked state by one of them.

“You may leave now, thank you.”

“It is my hope you are refreshed in the morning, your Grace.”

James grunted good night, and then fell on the bed, groaning loudly as the pain of various aching body parts pulled viciously. Closing his eyes, he sighed. At last, some peace and quiet from those frustrating Sinclairs. Considering the events of the last few days, it was testament to his tiredness that he felt himself sinking into sleep.

The dreams came with ruthless intensity and had him thrashing around in the sheets. Water was dragging him under as he tried to breathe, tried to find enough air to fill his lungs. The terror of being bound and helpless swept over him once more.

“Sssh, James, ‘tis all right.”

He woke to the soft words and a hand on his shoulder. Reaching out, he grabbed the wrist, needing to feel anchored to something. Something or someone who would save him.

“You are safe now.”

“Who are you?” His voice sounded rough and unused as he forced his gritty eyes open and looked to the shape beside his bed.

“It is Eden, James. You were calling out in your sleep, and I came to see if all was well. You were reliving the nightmare of being thrown in the water.”

“Christ.” James hissed out the word. He remembered now. He was back there again, under the water with his hands and feet bound as he struggled to free himself.

“It will take time, but the memory will ease, I promise. I shall have Essie mix herbs to soothe you while you sleep.”

James felt Eden’s hand on his head, brushing the hair back from his forehead. It was the softest touch, but he felt it everywhere.

“You should not be in here.”

“I grew concerned when you did not stop shouting, and while you are not my favorite person today, I could not listen as you continued to suffer.”

As his eyes adjusted he began to see her clearly. The silhouette of her lovely body clad in a nightdress as she bent over him made him ache to reach for her.

“I am very rarely anyone’s favorite person.”

“Now you are being modest, Duke,” she said, mocking him. “I’m sure there are any number of women who find you quite favorable.”

He snorted. “They find my title favorable.”

“Yes, it is quite surprising how a homely man with a title can suddenly gain popularity.”

“Are you calling me homely, Eden?” Why did he love talking with this woman? Why did his heart beat harder and he feel lighter when in her company?

“Have I dented your ego? Forgive me, it was unfair considering you have just surfaced from a nightmare.” Her hand patted his shoulder. “I would like to add that in a very short amount of time I have no doubt that you will be Samantha’s favorite person.”

James doubted that, but kept those thoughts to himself. “If your brothers found you in here they would attempt to beat me to a pulp.”

“But not succeed?”

James heard the amusement in her voice.

“Perhaps if the two of them tried, they may rough me up a bit.”

“Then I shall leave before they do.”

“How did you hear me when your room is on the next floor up?” He didn’t want her to leave him to fall back into the terror.

“I-I was, ah, checking on Warwick.”

She was lying, her hesitation told him that, and also, they both knew Warwick slept in the same room as her brothers. However, he did not want to challenge her because then she’d leave.

“I do not like to feel fear.” The darkness allowed him to show this weakness.

“But fear is something we all experience, James, and it makes us stronger if we have lived and survived fear.”

“It weakens you,” James said, closing his eyes. Her hand was on his shoulder again. He wanted her to slip inside his robe and stroke his skin. Visions of pulling her onto his body had him hard.

“No, it does not, but now is not the time for that conversation. Sleep, and you shall feel better in the morning.”

He grabbed her wrist as she lifted it from his body. Swinging his legs off the bed, he settled her between them.

“James, let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“You must.”

There was no strength in her words as he kissed the side of her jaw.

“What is it about you?” James said the words into her throat.

“I-I… it is what lies between our families.” Her hands went to his shoulders, digging in to the material of his dressing gown.

He didn’t speak, simply took her mouth beneath his and kissed her. It was soft and deep and James swore he felt something stir inside him.

“No.” She said the word softly as she pulled out of his arms. “No.” This time it was firmer. “I won’t do this to myself or my family. There can be nothing between us, ever, therefore this will lead to my downfall, so it cannot happen again.”

“No matter how much we wish it,” James ended the sentence.

“Yes.”

She stood there for a few seconds, her breathing harsh, then turned and walked away from him, closing the door softly behind her and leaving James aroused and angry with himself. Angry at his loss of control and the fact that he had once again disrespected Eden and her family. He knew better than to make advances to a young unmarried woman, yet he had done so with her and more than once.

He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The last thought that filtered through his head before he slept once again was that she had not denied wanting him, and James wished like hell she had.

Chapter Seven

Looking out of the carriage window as it rumbled through the streets toward the Wynburg town house, Eden realized London appeared to be everything she had expected. Noisy, smelly and overpopulated.

When they had stopped to change horses, she had decided to travel with her sisters and Samantha. Her brothers had shot her a confused look, as she always rode with them, but Eden did not elaborate because telling the truth was not an option. Especially as it concerned a certain dark-haired duke who with just a glance could make her heart flutter. Plus, every time she looked at James she was reminded of her foolish behavior.

Twice yesterday she had yielded to his kisses. Thrown herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and urged him to take more of what she offered. It horrified her how wantonly she behaved around him. So she had decided from this day onward she would keep her distance from him, and that included riding alongside him.

He’d been polite, as had she, when they encountered each other at breakfast, but that was the last time they’d spoken, and she would make sure it would be the last for some time.

She’d woken during the night and pulled out her earplugs to hear him call out in his sleep. Eden knew he would battle the demons from the night she had saved him for some time to come. The memory was vivid for her also, and her life had not been in danger like his. She had quickly climbed out of bed before his cries escalated and gone to his room. Pausing briefly at his door, she’d pushed aside her doubt. He was hurting and needed someone, and she would be that person.

He had been thrashing about, arching off the mattress as he tried to free himself from the invisible bonds that held him down. He’d woken to her touch, and fool that she was, she’d stayed instead of leaving as soon as she knew he was all right.

What has become of me? Eden wondered. To crave a man’s touch like she did the Duke’s was foolhardy, but there was little she could do about it. It was as if an invisible thread pulled her toward him. Well, that thread was now severed, and Eden hoped they saw nothing of him in London.

“What if our aunt is mean and nasty and does not like us?”

Somer’s words pulled Eden from her thoughts.

“Now why would our aunt and uncle invite us to London, if they were mean?” Essie said, cuddling her close.

The four children had grown quiet as the miles passed. Change was always frightening for them, especially the youngest Sinclair siblings. After the deaths of their parents, Dev, Cam, Essie, and Eden had done their best to be both mother and father to them, yet no one could replace their mother’s love. Their father’s love had never been without conditions.

“Will we see each other again?”

Eden put her arm around Samantha; the little girl’s whispered words tugged at her heart.

“Of course; in fact I think your brother’s home is on the same street as our aunt’s, so we will grow quite tired of each other.”

“Really?” Eden felt her heart sink as she looked at Essie. “How do you know that?”

“James told me last night.”

“There will be no other boys for me to play with.” Warwick entered the conversation. The boy looked forlorn. He had stared out the window for the better part of today’s journey, mourning the freedom and wide-open spaces he had left behind at Oak’s Knoll.

Unlike most families, who longed for the excitement of city life, Eden’s father had taught his children to loathe London. His favorite quote, which he had never failed to deliver to any child who expressed a wish to leave the family home, was “country air does not blacken the lungs and wither the muscles as it does in London.” Of course, it seemed the late Lord Sinclair had been exempt from this particular statement, as he had spent much time here, usually gambling away their money.

“Rubbish! Now enough of this nonsense, we are all weary and after a good meal and night’s sleep everything will look so much better,” Eden stated, hoping she was right. “Furthermore, there will be many new and exciting things for you to do and see here. We shall have some wonderful adventures.”

Eden saw her words were not having the desired effect, as her siblings all looked as depressed as she felt. How long she wondered, before they saw the familiar sight of their home once more.

James was looking forward to getting off his horse. His ribs pulled, not that he would tell a Sinclair that, and he wanted brandy and a soft chair. Eden had ignored him since they had greeted each other this morning. Her words had been cool, and her eyes had looked over his right shoulder. She had then completely ignored him, which should have been exactly what he wanted, yet perversely wasn’t.

He was not himself around her. In fact Eden Sinclair had achieved what no one else had ever managed. She made him lose control, and that would never do. He would have taken her innocence in that dark room without a second thought last night, and that was a sobering thought. Without even trying she had twisted him in knots, and James could only imagine what would happen to him if she put her mind to seducing him. He shuddered at the thought. Distance, he reminded himself. Keep your distance from her.

He had been relieved when she had chosen to ride in the carriage; at least for the remainder of the journey he did not need to constantly battle his need to look at her.

It seemed without Eden riding beside them, the Sinclair brothers did not have much to converse about. James realized after spending a few hours observing them that they were not as comfortable with each other as he had first thought. Sinclair rode like a man who had been in the military, his brother slouched in his seat, stretched out like a yard of pump water. They looked alike, yet on short acquaintance he knew this was their only similarity.

Sinclair was head of the family and James had to acknowledge the man took his responsibilities seriously. He was constantly asking his siblings if they required anything. Dropping back to ride beside the carriage to check all was well. His little brother was usually draped across his lap, and he told him stories and pointed out things as the journey progressed. Cam, however, sang Warwick Sinclair naughty songs that the boy should not be hearing.

“Ah, the sweet scents of London,” Cambridge said.

The late afternoon sun had brought out people from all stations of life. Peddlers, pickpockets, and peers, James thought.

“Duke.”

“Lord Harlow.” James tipped his hat to the elderly man trundling by on a large bay.

The noise was deafening and James usually loved the distractions London offered. It was a place where life moved at a clip, however, this time he had Samantha with him, and it worried him that life in London may be overwhelming for her.

“I believe your aunt lives not far from my town house. We will stop there first if that suits you, Sinclair?”

“As you wish, Raven.”

Gritting his teeth, James remained silent, just giving the brothers a stiff nod. Even when they uttered something as simple as “as you wish,” he felt they were needling him. He’d never had a brother or even a close friend, and if this was how uncomfortable they made you feel, he was revising the opinions of his youth, when he had longed for just such a companion.

He knew this area well, having lived most of his life here. The houses were large, imposing, and spoke of the wealth their owners had. Had he a choice, he would have purchased a smaller house, but the Raven town house had been in his family for generations and he could not bring himself to sell it.

He and the brothers followed the carriages through a set of tall black gates, and swept into a circular courtyard. This was the residence of the Earl and Countess of Wynburg. Lady Wynburg had been a friend of his grandfather’s and as such, knew more about James than was comfortable to his mind.

Four imposing pillars marked the front entrance of the large town house. There were plenty of colorful beds of flowers to soften the hard gray stone exterior, and windows gleamed on all floors. The Earl’s coat of arms fluttered from a flag on the roof. It was imposing and yet welcoming.

Climbing from his horse, James could not quite swallow the grunt of protest as his ribs tugged against the sudden movement. Cam, who was next to him, shot him a look, but thankfully refrained from commenting. Handing the reins to a groom, he then went to the carriage to talk with Samantha.

“Hello, James.”

“Miss Somerset,” James said, taking her small hand in his as she appeared in the doorway and helping her from the carriage. James had not had much exposure to children in his life, well none actually, but he had come to like the three littlest Sinclairs. Unlike their elder siblings, they were open and honest, and more importantly, they had befriended his sister.

“Are you unwell, Somer?” Her sweet face was sad.

She shook her head then sighed. Tilting it back, she stared up at him.

“I want to go back to my home, James.”

James had no call for excess emotions in his life. Laughter had its place, as did anger and sadness, but too much of it turned a man weak. However, looking into the solemn face before him he felt something uncomfortable stab at his chest.

“I had planned to take Samantha to Astley’s Amphitheatre one evening, Somer, and had hoped you and your brothers and sisters would accompany us.” And I have no idea where those words came from.

“Oh, James!” Somer squealed, she then threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing before he could stop her. Releasing him, she began to chatter to her siblings and Samantha with no sign of her previous sadness he noted.

“Dorrie, Warwick, did you hear? We will see Samantha soon because James is taking us to Astley’s Amphitheatre!”

The other children all piled out of the carriage and formed a small circle, proceeding to talk over the top of each other, their good humor now apparently restored. James noticed even Samantha managed to get a word in.

“Nicely done,” Essie said, climbing down next. “But you will have to follow through, James, as they will not relent in their quest to get to Astley’s now you have mentioned it.”

“They shall badger us from dawn till dusk now. There will be no peace for any of us.” These words came from Cam. “One thing you have yet to learn is that children never forget, James. Most especially when it is something they want. A word of caution, if I may,” he added. “Never promise until you are sure you can follow through.”

“I would not have said the words had I not intended to honor them, Cambridge.”

“Just as well,” he muttered.

Shaking his head, James wondered what the hell had possessed him to make such a promise to Somer. Maybe he was more tired than he realized.

He watched the gaggle of children make for the door, and turned to look for Eden, who as yet had not appeared. Looking inside the carriage, he noted she was gathering armfuls of bonnets and coats from the seats and floor.

“Can I assist you, Eden?”

His words demanded a response, and as he had come to realize, the Sinclairs may be loud and boisterous, but they were well-mannered. She really had the most remarkable eyes; in some lights the gray depths held a blue tint and in others green. At the moment they were flat and cold.

“No, thank you.”

She slid along the seat toward the door, now inches from where he stood, looking at him with cool reserve that shattered the resistance he had told himself he must have when she was near. James knew she wanted him to step aside, just as he knew he should, yet he didn’t. Call it idiocy or exhaustion, but he had carried the taste of her on his lips all day. Bracing his hands on the doorway so no one could view inside, he leaned in until his face was inches from her own.

“Open your mouth, Eden.”

“Wh—”

He swallowed the sound her word made and the small shriek that followed. His tongue swept inside her mouth, marauding and conquering. Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket to steady herself and his fingers dug in to the carriage roof as he battled the urge to pull her closer. She tasted of the woman she was, spicy and alluring, and her response was instant. Arching toward him she sank into his kiss. Their tongues met, danced, and flitted away and James could feel his control begin to slip.

“Eden,” he whispered as he eased back from their kiss. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing ragged like his own.

“I don’t want you to ever do that again.”

“Eden, I—”

“I am not to be toyed with,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he sighed. “I know that, but—”

“Please just go.”

It was the please that had his feet moving. He did as she asked and called himself every kind of fool for once again playing with fire. He had no rights to that woman and yet he had still kissed her... again.

What has become of you?

James was disciplined; he did not give in to impulses or urges. Yet when she was near he was consumed by a madness to be with her, possess her, touch her, and it bloody well had to stop! He would get Samantha and leave before he could do anything else without thinking. Then he would stay away from Eden Sinclair.

“At last you have arrived!”

James had met the Earl of Wynburg often, as they frequented the same club. He was a jovial man who did not rattle on excessively and had a wise head on his shoulders, unlike his wife.

The small gale-force wind that was the Countess of Wynburg had picked up her skirts and was now running down the steps at a rapid pace.

Moving to the rear of the small group of Sinclairs that held his sister, James shot a quick look behind him. Eden had not emerged.

“My darling nieces and nephews, this is one of the happiest moments of my life!”

“James,” Samantha said, slowly backing into his legs, “that woman’s hair is the same color as a carrot.”

Cam snuffled beside them. His eyes too were fixed on the woman approaching. James didn’t think she was overly tall, however her hair—likened to the color of carrots—added at least a foot to her height. Styled in some elaborate fashion, it was festooned with ribbons, feathers and....

“Is that a bird in your hair, Aunt?”

“Oh you clever child!” Lady Wynburg cried, reaching Warwick first as he spoke and sweeping him into a fierce hug that the young boy was doing his level best to break free from.

She was not a nasty person, just a woman whose presence you always felt. She laughed and spoke louder than most, her gestures were flamboyant, and she was everything James would not choose in his future wife. The few times the Countess had singled him out she had made him feel uncomfortable. Her brown eyes would look into his own, almost as if she could read his every thought, she would then hug him, “because I have the right due to my close relationship with your late grandfather, Duke,” she would say. And perhaps that more than any was the reason he avoided her, because she had known the only person James had loved.

“Aunt,” Cambridge Sinclair said, stepping forward next with obvious reluctance.

The problem was she didn’t just greet people with the touch of a hand, she enveloped them. James watched her go to each of her nieces and nephews and welcome them.

“Where is Eden?”

“Here I am, Aunt.”

James watched Eden grip the bundle of clothes in her arms tight as her aunt hugged her. Awareness shot through him as she looked at him briefly over her aunt’s shoulder, and then just as quickly looked away.

“Come, Samantha, make your good-byes,” James said quickly as Lady Wynburg released Eden and turned his way.

“Duke!”

“Escape is impossible.” Sinclair laughed as his aunt made her way to where James stood with Samantha in front of him like a shield.

“And who is this beautiful child?”

“May I present my sister to you, Lady Wynburg. Lady Samantha Raven.”

It was the first time he had ever seen her speechless. Her eyes filled with tears and then she sank to her knees, right there in the street where anyone looking in the courtyard could see her, and hugged Samantha. More surprisingly, his sister accepted the gesture. Seconds later she once again stood before him.

“I had no idea of her existence, James, or I would have told you.”

He could see the genuine distress in her brown eyes. She really was quite a striking woman; her skin was lined yet still soft and creamy and had always carried the faintest scent of lavender.

“I know you would have, Lady Wynburg. As I did not find out myself until after the death of my father, I am sure not many people were aware of Samantha’s existence.”

James grunted as she reached over Samantha’s head and hauled him into her arms.

He did not fight it; indeed, the small boy who had always wanted such a hug even enjoyed it, yet he remained still the entire time. James was not used to hugs and kisses of a maternal type. He may have loved his grandfather, but the man had not comforted him with anything but words.

“Of course I know you live nearby Oak’s Knoll, yet what has you travelling to London with my nephews and nieces,” she said upon releasing him.

“Raven wished for company for his sister, and as I met him in the village one day, we discussed our travelling together.”

James nodded to Sinclair as he spoke. They could not tell the woman the truth, as he had no wish for anyone to know about the attempt on his life.

“Excellent!” she cried loudly, making James wince. “Well then, we shall take tea.”

“If I may decline, my lady. Samantha is tired after the journey and in need of rest,” James said. He had no wish to spend more time in Eden’s company.

“Very well, however I insist on you coming to tea one afternoon soon so I may become better acquainted with Samantha. And of course, I am sure she and the twins are now firm friends.”

“Yes!” Somer cried. “And James has promised to take us all to Astley’s.”

“I did warn you,” Cam drawled softly.

“That you did.”

James said his good-byes and minutes later he was leaving the Sinclair family. He sat inside the carriage with his sister while she waved good-bye.

“Do you like the Sinclair family, Samantha?”

She gave him a small smile.

“Very much, they are happy.”

He could read so much into those simple words. She wanted to be happy? She had never been happy? He was not a happy person? The possibilities were endless. But one thing James did know was that he would do everything in his power to make her happy.

Chapter Eight

The refreshed elder Sinclair sisters left their rooms the following morning to make their way to the breakfast parlor. They had been too tired last night to venture far. After ensuring their younger siblings were being entertained, surprisingly by their aunt, uncle, and several maids, all of whom had been gathered around the fire toasting crumpets in the nursery wing, Eden and Essex had eaten and then fallen back into bed, once again slipping into a deep slumber.

“Good morning. I am the butler, Pennyroll.”

“Good morning, Pennyroll,” Essex and Eden said in unison when he appeared before them as they entered the long hallway. He was tall with wide shoulders and wore an immaculate black suit with crisp white shirt. Thick and the color of newly fallen snow, his hair was swept back from the forehead. Round eyeglasses enhanced a pair of bright blue eyes.

“You have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, Pennyroll,” Eden said, leaning closer. “In fact, I would go so far as saying they are more indigo, don’t you think, Essie?”

The butler didn’t flinch as the two young ladies peered into his eyes.

“I think you could be right, Eden. They really are beautiful, Pennyroll.”

“My mother said they were wasted on a boy.”

“Surely not,” Essie laughed. “I should imagine you are quite a success with the ladies, Pennyroll.”

The butler merely smiled then led them down to the breakfast room at a stately pace.

The house was grand in every way, from the plush carpets to the softly painted walls. Light spilled into the rooms from large windows offering views of gardens and parks. Mirrors and paintings hung in huge gilt frames.

“It is very grand, Eden.”

“Yes it is, but also strangely comfortable don’t you think?”

“Yes, not what I expected at all after father’s descriptions of our aunt and uncle. I must admit to preconceived ideas of gold fittings and lavish surroundings,” Essie said, looking at a large print of a house in the countryside surrounded by wildflowers.

“Perhaps not everything Father told us was true,” Eden whispered as Pennyroll opened a door before them. The entire Sinclair family were seated, as were their aunt and uncle.

“Now we are all together!” their aunt cried as she saw her two nieces enter the breakfast parlor. Waving to the only empty chairs at the table, she urged them to take a seat.

“Good morning,” the sisters said to the room.

“Eden!” Dorrie said, getting out of her chair and running to her sister. “We played games after you left last night.”

“It sounds like I missed all the fun,” Eden said, replacing Dorrie in her seat and giving Warwick and Somer kisses.

“Good morning, my dear nieces.”

The Earl of Wynburg had risen at their entry and now stood before them. He was a big man, easily as tall as Devon yet much wider. He had a remarkable pair of bushy brows and intelligent brown eyes and a smile that seemed to fill his whole face. He did not appear a bad man, as her father had once described him. But then appearances, Eden knew, could be deceptive.

“Welcome, my dears.”

Eden kissed one weathered cheek as was expected of her.

“You can have no idea how long we have waited to see you all here. Come, sit, and let us eat our first meal as a family.”

Shooting her brothers a questioning look at her uncle’s exuberant greeting, Eden took her seat. Dev just shrugged and Cam ignored her in favor of eating.

Her brothers were staying in the smaller residence next door that their uncle owned, and Eden knew this was because neither was comfortable living in such close confines with Lord and Lady Wynburg.

“Fill your plates, girls, and then after breakfast the young ones will go and gather their bonnets and coats for our journey to the shops while your uncle and I have a chat with you elder nieces and nephews,” Lady Wynburg said.

The Sinclairs ate with exuberance like they did everything else, and as this particular array of food was far superior to any they had previously experienced, they fell on it with, if not savage intent, then a healthy dose of enthusiasm.

“Warwick, your head does not need to be that close to your plate.”

“Yes, Dev.”

“Close your mouth, Somer.”

“But, Essie, my nose is closed,” the little girl said.

“Closed?” the Countess questioned the table at large.

“Somer sometimes gets a bit—ah—”

“Congested,” Cam said, coming to Essie’s aid.

“Ah, I see, well we will have to see what we can do about that.” Lady Wynburg smiled at the little girl.

The meal progressed with their aunt and uncle asking questions, to which the elder Sinclairs were not overly forthcoming but answered with politeness.

“And have you left Oak’s Knoll in the hands of someone? Perhaps I could have one of my men check on it for you—”

“We were able to retain two servants, Uncle, they are caring for the house in our absence,” Dev said, his tone curt.

“Ah yes, Bertie and Josiah Hemple. Wonderful men, your aunt and I were pleased that they were there to care for you.”

“Our parents also cared for us, my Lord. It is the rest of our family who have stayed away from us!” Cam snapped.

“Cam, be quiet.”

A heavy, uncomfortable silence followed Dev’s words. Even the younger Sinclairs were unusually subdued, their eyes looking at the adults as they tried to grasp why there was suddenly a great deal of tension in the room.

Eden looked at her uncle, who was staring at Dev and Cam with a sad look in his eyes. Climbing to his feet he signaled for Pennyroll to come forward.

“Take the children to collect their outer clothing please, Pennyroll, and I will call for them when we are ready for our outing.”

“We will look after our siblings,” Dev said, also rising.

“I will accompany them, Dev,” Eden added, preparing to follow.

“I would like to speak to you all, please.” The Earl did not raise his voice yet his intent was clear to everyone in the room. He wanted to talk with them and he wanted to do so now. Eden suddenly saw the powerful peer in the man before them. His jovial facade had fallen away to be replaced by a determined man.

Eden, Essie, and Cam all looked to their elder brother, who in turn was glaring at their uncle. He gave a jerky nod and then forced a smile onto his face as he urged his younger brother and sisters from the room with the promise of coming to find them soon.

Eden’s father had never liked the Earl and Countess of Wynburg, and he had nurtured these feelings in his children, especially Dev, who had bore the brunt of their father’s confidences. It seemed now all that hatred was about to come to a head. Eden jammed her earplugs in tighter and hoped there was not too much yelling, as her ears would never take it. She also hoped they would not pack up and leave London today, as the little ones would never cope with another long journey so soon.

They silently filed from the room behind their aunt and uncle, following until they reached another room into which they were shepherded. Each of the Sinclairs took a seat before the large desk while the Earl sat behind it with the Countess standing at his back. This was a sign of solidarity and Eden’s throat felt suddenly dry. What was their uncle about to tell them? Whatever it was she knew they would not like it.

“Firstly I will address the matter of our abandonment in your eyes,” the Earl said. “Your father kept your aunt and me away from you from the day he married your mother. We were allowed no contact with you and every time we tried to visit he picked you all up and left before we arrived. Any gifts we sent were returned unopened.”

“You lie!”

“Sit down, Cam.” Eden watched Dev place a hand on his brother’s arm, urging him back into his seat.

“We have only your word on this, my lord, and you must understand that we loved our parents. Therefore, to ask us to believe what you say is impossible.”

Eden nodded at Dev’s words.

“Show them the letters, Sally,” the Earl said as he looked up at his wife. “It must be done, love. They need to hear this or we shall never be able to move on with them in our lives.”

The Sinclairs watched the Countess open a drawer in her husband’s desk and remove a pile of letters tied in a lemon ribbon.

“Read the first out loud, Sally, and then the one at the birth of Eden, the rest they can read themselves later.”

Eden felt a terrible unease settle over the siblings as their aunt nodded and opened the first piece of paper and began to read out loud.

“My darling sister, I hardly know how to begin this letter I am forced to write to you. Firstly, please know that I love my husband very much and you have no need to fear he will mistreat me. Sally, when you came for a visit yesterday I was so excited to see you. Having been married for only a few months, I had so much to tell you and I do miss our talks so.”

The Earl handed a handkerchief to his wife as she sniffed; Eden watched the gesture and was filled with trepidation. What did that letter contain that was so dire?

“I had no idea that my darling Thomas would treat you so terribly, Sally. He was rude and ill-mannered and I told him so after you left. But, Sister, I fear he has a great jealousy for you and Elijah, and he has told me that under no circumstances are you to return to Oak’s Knoll again. Of course I argued with him and perhaps in time he may relent, yet in this I must honor his wishes for now. Please try to understand, my dearest. Thomas is a good man yet he is prone to fits of temper. I will write soon and hope he has changed his mind.”

The Sinclairs watched their aunt fold the letter in half before placing it on the desk. She then reached for another. Eden did not look at her brothers, instead, reaching to her left she took Cam’s hand in her own, and then to the right she took Essie’s, who in turn was gripping Dev’s. They would face this together—whatever this was. She felt the tension travel through her, strengthened by their heightened senses.

“I will read the letter we wrote to your father just after your birth, Eden, and then I will read the reply from your father,” their aunt said.

“I feel ill,” Cam whispered. Eden squeezed his hand hard.

“You have made your wishes regarding the Countess and me explicit over the years, but I implore you to reconsider for the sake of your children. Having lost our only child we merely wish to offer love to your family. My darling Sally struggles greatly with the loss of both her beloved son and sister in her life. Please, I beseech you, let us visit if only to get to know our nieces and nephews, and for Sally to seek solace in the arms of her sister.”

Eden watched as the tears began to roll down their aunt’s cheeks.

“I-I cannot c-continue, Elijah.”

Dear God, Papa, what you did to me was bad enough, but how could you have done this to all of us? She watched the Earl stand and hug his wife, then lower her into the chair he had vacated and take up the position at her back, with another letter now in his hand. He began to read in a deep, clear voice.

“You will never see your nieces and nephews, Wynburg. They are mine and you cannot have them, and as for your wife, I’m sure if you buy her a new bauble that will suffice. Now leave us alone, we want neither your money nor your time. If I see you on my property, I will shoot you, and I will aim to kill.”

Closing the letter, their uncle looked at each of them in turn. Eden knew their expressions were the same. Shock and despair gripped the four eldest Sinclairs.

“I need to see that letter,” Dev got to his feet, and held out his hand. He then looked at the page the Earl passed him. Eden saw the moment he realized the truth.

“Is it be true, Dev?” Essie asked.

“Yes, it is our father’s handwriting.”

Dev lowered the letter to the desk and stumbled back to his seat. “Why have you told us this?” his words were harsh, as if forced from his throat.

“Your mother wrote to us before she died and said that we must tell you the reasons we had not visited if your father died before we did. She believed you would be left without money and need our help, but that your father’s words may have poisoned you against your aunt and me.”

“How often did you try to visit us?” Essie questioned, her words wavering as she attempted to regain control.

“Every year once Devon was born, until the day your father threatened me with a shotgun.”

Cam released his sisters’ hands and leaped to his feet. With clenched fists he prowled to the window and looked down at the street below. Cam had always been the most demonstrative of the Sinclairs, his emotions on show for everyone to see, and she feared he would take this news very badly. He turned then and glared at the Earl.

“How could he have left us to struggle like that? The past few years have been hell, but most especially on Dev. He resigned his commission to care for us, for God’s sake!”

“I sent your mother money when times were really bad, Cam. I also sent Bertie and Josiah to you, and it was through them I kept in touch with what was going on in your lives,” the Earl said, going to stand before him. “I did not tell you these things to make you hate your father, I told them to you because I want you to accept what we are offering you all. Your father loved you, never forget that.”

Cam snorted but remained silent.

“Why have you waited to tell us this?” Eden questioned.

The Earl looked from Eden to his wife; the Countess gave him a little nod.

“Sally has been very ill since your mother passed away. The doctors told me I would lose her if I did not take her to a warmer climate, thus we traveled to Italy and there we stayed until she returned to health. We did not learn of your father’s death until we returned to London, and it was then we immediately started writing to you. Had you not returned our last letter, we had made plans to travel to Oak’s Knoll to see you.”

“What did you want to offer us?”

Dev’s words were cold and she knew he was suffering as much as his siblings with their aunt and uncle’s revelations. Perhaps more, as he was the one who had struggled to put food on their table.

“Is now the time for this discussion, when you have all received such a shock?” the Earl queried.

Each of the siblings nodded; they wanted all their shocks in one sitting.

“Very well.” Once again he went to stand behind his wife. “We would like to provide dowries for your sisters, Devon, and to loan you enough money to aid you in your investments.”

“What do you know of my investments?”

“I made it my business to be aware of how your family has fared over the years. I am also aware that the few investments you could raise capital for have succeeded, and it is through this that you have survived.”

“My God,” Dev said, looking stunned. “It was you who made sure we survived?”

Holding up his hand, the Earl of Wynburg said, “I merely invested in whatever you did, nothing more, Devonshire. Please do not think me foolish enough to throw money into something that would earn me no return.”

“I-I do not need your help.”

“Yet you will take it all the same, as it is not for you alone. We will discuss the money I will invest in you another time, but it will not come cheaply and I will expect a healthy return on my investments.”

Dev just stared at their uncle, for once at a loss for words.

“Cam, we will also have a discussion in private regarding your future, but for now I want you all to know that you may stay with us for as long as you wish. If London becomes too stifling then we have several other estates that lie empty, and they are at your disposal if you so wish it.”

“Oak’s Knoll is our home,” Cam said, anger still evident in his voice.

“As it shall always be,” their aunt soothed. “But enough for now I think, Elijah,” she added, regaining her feet. “Now we are to go shopping. Ladies, please gather your bonnets and the twins, and we shall leave in a few minutes.”

Eden squeezed Dev’s shoulder as she passed, then quietly followed Essie from the room. Once their aunt had left them to collect her things, the sisters gave in to their tears, hugging each other as they cried over their father’s betrayal.

“It hurts.” Eden said.

“Can you believe it of our father?”

Yes! Eden cried silently. I know what he was capable of. “I once heard mother and father arguing over our aunt and uncle, and father was saying horrid things. So yes, as much as I wish it wasn’t so, I can believe it.”

“Why did you never speak to me of these concerns you had?”

“They were my concerns, not yours, Essie.”

“And yet I am your sister and we have always shared everything.”

Not everything, Eden thought. She couldn’t tell Essie the truth, not ever. “I did not want to worry you,” she added lamely.

“What are you not telling me, Eden?”

“Nothing. Now hurry, Dev has just told me that I am to go straight to my room and not listen to the conversation he and Cam are having with our uncle.”

Essie took Eden’s hand and gave it a squeeze and then tugged her up the stairs. Minutes later Eden had another set of earplugs firmly in place.

“Perhaps I should just listen to make sure no one is yelling?”

“No, now hurry with your bonnet, I want to see London.”

“I don’t.” Eden shuddered.

Chapter Nine

James watched as Buttles, his butler, led his sister into the room.

“How did you sleep, Samantha?”

“Very well, thank you.” She settled herself in the chair across from him.

“And do you like eggs for breakfast?” She shook her head. “Perhaps toast then?” Again silence, with only a head shake. Facing a bayonet was proving easier than trying to have a conversation with his sister, he thought grimly, looking at the top of her head. What did one talk to young girl children about anyway? He could hardly discuss stocks and bonds or horses. It was then he heard Devonshire Sinclair’s voice in his head. “Miss Somerset and Miss Dorset will have crumpets and jam for their morning repast.” He had said those words at the inn when they were seated awaiting their morning meal, and while he was not overly fond of the oldest Sinclair, he had to admit the man was very comfortable with children. James wondered if Samantha would like that. Christ did they even have crumpets and jam in the house?

“I believe Lady Samantha will have crumpets and jam for her morning repast, Buttles,” James said in his most pompous voice. Samantha made a snuffling sound, which could have been a giggle but he wasn’t sure, and then nodded. Victory!

“And shall I have Mrs. Gotheram procure a companion for Lady Samantha, your Grace?”

Of course she needed a companion, James thought, pinching the bridge of his nose, why the hell hadn’t he thought of that.

“Yes please, Buttles.”

“Mrs. Gotheram has also assured me that the nursery is in need of a thorough cleaning. I have set the maids to work this morning, but she fears it will also need completely refurnishing, your Grace.”

Thank God for his housekeeper. James felt his head begin to throb. “Do whatever you and Mrs. Gotheram believe is necessary, Buttles, thank you,” James said, hoping his butler would now clear off so he could finish his breakfast before he lost his appetite completely.

“Mrs. Gotheram has also asked me to enquire if you would visit the nursery, your Grace, at ten o’clock this morning to discuss the requirements for Lady Samantha.”

Looking at the large clock that stood before him, James noted it was nine thirty. Half an hour to eat and read the morning paper. Could he read the paper with his sister sitting silently across from him? Dear Lord, another ritual it seemed would have to go by the wayside whilst breakfasting with her.

“We will visit the nursery as soon as my sister has eaten, Buttles,” James said, hoping that now he would actually leave the room and stop firing questions at him.

Samantha’s breakfast arrived shortly thereafter and James was relieved that she tucked in straight away. She ate like she did everything, silently and neatly. Small movements that gave no one reason to either look at or censure her. James felt ill watching her, because he had done just the same when he was a small boy. She stiffened as a drop of jam fell onto the white tablecloth beside her plate. He watched as she shot him a quick look, her eyes wide and terrified, her fingers curling into themselves so they could not be whacked hard with whatever implement of torture was handy. Their father would have punished her had he been present. James, however, was not like his father and never would be.

“J-James I did not mean to—”

James reached across the table and picked the spoon out of the jam pot and turned it over so a large dollop fell onto the cloth between them.

“There, it seems we are both clumsy today, Samantha.” James then picked up his knife and fork and proceeded to finish his breakfast, which now tasted like ashes in his mouth. Samantha looked first at him and then at the large dollop of jam he had dropped on the cloth, then picking up her crumpet, she gave a little smile and began to eat once again.

“Thank you, James.”

Her words were tentative, but she had spoken without him prompting, and in that moment he felt they had made progress.

“Are you ready to inspect your rooms, Samantha?” he asked twenty minutes later.

“Yes,” she said, wiping her mouth.

James assisted Samantha from her chair. Remembering how the Sinclairs had constantly seemed attached to each other, he held out his hand. Samantha took it, and they made their way down the long hallway to the stairs. It felt so precious clasped in his, precious and vulnerable. Looking around him as they walked, he noticed how dark and austere his home was.

“We need to redecorate this house, Samantha.”

“Yes, it is very dark, James.”

And you hate the dark just like I did, he realized. Because their father had not wanted to spend money on candles or lamps, therefore they had lived in darkness.

“You will never have to live in the dark again, Samantha, I promise you.”

James kept up a steady stream of words as they made their way to the nursery, which was not easy, as talking had never been his strong suit, yet Samantha appeared to listen and occasionally nodded or murmured.

Eden had told him to exercise patience when dealing with his sister and it had been advice that went against his nature, as he was a man who took action and expected results. However, James was determined to forge a relationship with Samantha, so he would be patience itself.

The nursery had two huge windows that looked over the gardens at the rear of the property. There was a main room with two smaller ones leading off it. The walls were a drab gray and the curtains equally as drab. Looking at his sister, he thought that perhaps the curtains were made of exactly the same fabric as her dress. Should young girls dress in such dull colors?

“I think you need some new clothes, Samantha.”

“Yes, please.”

Well that seemed comprehensive enough. Now how did one go about buying young girl clothes, James wondered.

“Your Grace, Lady Samantha.”

“Mrs. Gotheram.” James acknowledged his housekeeper as she entered the nursery behind them. Short and stout, she had been with him since he was bundled from Raven Castle and sent to London at age ten. It had been she who was waiting for him when he came home from school and she who had helped him through his darkest moments. James had spent many hours with this woman in his youth.

“We will need all new furnishings and entertainments for Lady Samantha, your Grace.”

“Of course, please get whatever you think is necessary.”

“And what of other things, Your Grace?”

“Other things, Mrs. Gotheram?” James said, feeling totally at sea, as he had no idea what the “other things” were. What sort of brother was he?

“She’ll need things to occupy her time, your Grace. Books and such. Because I am sure there will be plenty of times when you are not here and then Lady Samantha will be on her own.”

Mrs. Gotheram always made her agitation known by the line of her lips, drawn straight and tucked inside each other.

“Ah-ah perhaps Samantha and I will see to the other things then.”

When had he ever opened his mouth before thinking? Yesterday, when you promised Miss Somer a trip to Astley’s, James reminded himself.

“Excellent, your Grace, I knew you would take to the task of looking after your wee sister once you had some guidance,” Mrs. Gotheram said, patting Samantha’s cheek as she bustled past. “Now about the colors in here, do you have any particular favorites, my dear?”

Samantha looked at James, who shrugged, and then to the window where a weak sun was trying to break through the clouds.

“Sunshine yellow.”

Remembering the darkness of Raven Castle, James immediately understood his sister’s need to live in the light.

“Excellent choice, Samantha, and now we will leave Mrs. Gotheram and go shopping.”

“She is a very nice woman,” James said as they left the nursery. “You have nothing to fear from her,” he added as his sister pressed closer to his leg. At least she wasn’t pulling away from him.

“Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed, taking her hand in his once more. He liked the feeling of it tucked inside his and realized it was something he could get used to. Funny, he’d never really understood the need for personal contact, but he was beginning to.

They left the house once Samantha had pulled on her bonnet and gloves, both equally as drab and ugly as her dress. Once in the carriage, they headed out through the busy London streets, with James pointing out sights for his sister along the way. She sat very still listening and watching, her hands in her lap, placed one on top of the other.

James wondered if you could hate a man more every day, especially as he was dead. Sending his father several curses for what he had done to Samantha, he vowed again to do whatever he needed to make her understand there was good in the world, in him, and that he would never harm her.

When the carriage stopped, he got out and lifted her down beside him.

“This is a store that has some of the things I believe we need, Samantha.” At least he hoped it did. Buttles had told him it was the place to start. Taking her hand in his once more, he entered and found his butler had been correct. It appeared to have row upon row of books; surely some of them would be suitable for a young girl.

“There are a great many books, James.” Samantha’s eyes were wide as she looked from side to side, taking it all in.

“Yes, there certainly are.” The smell was musty and yet spoke of many hours of wonderful reading adventures hidden between the pages before them. James remembered the first day he had entered a bookshop and purchased whatever he wanted. The sense of freedom had made his knees weak.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” James nodded to the proprietor as he approached.

“We have a large amount of books suitable for children upstairs, as well as other toys that the young lady would like to see, I’m sure.”

“Excellent, thank you. That is where we shall head then.”

They climbed the stairs with Samantha leading the way, her little legs hampered by her thick skirts and the sturdy boots on her feet.

“Oh,” she said when they reached the top. If possible there was the same amount of books as downstairs. “May I go and look, please?”

“Of course,” James said, heading toward the first shelf himself. “Take as much time as you need, Samantha.” He soon found himself as engrossed in the collection before him as his sister.

“Can we add this book to the collection, Samantha?” James said, holding up the tales of Robinson Crusoe some time later. The tutor his father had sent him had never allowed him to read anything like this, but he had heard other boys discussing it at school.

“Yes.” She nodded, her face a picture of concentration as she once again turned to the book of fables she was studying. “Can I have this one, James?”

“Of course,” he said, taking the large book with bright-colored fairies flying all over the cover from her. He may not be able to go back and make the last few years easier for her, but he would bloody well try to make the rest better.

Samantha had lost some of her reserve toward him as the minutes ticked by, and was now showing him one book after the other; in fact their pile was growing with every one she viewed.

“Can I look over there now, James?” Samantha pointed to another room. She seemed eager and he wondered what she had seen to cause such excitement.

After organizing for their purchases to be delivered, James followed his sister. He was surprised at how much he’d enjoyed accompanying her to the store. He found her on her knees before a large dollhouse; the front was open and she was studying the inside intently. Crouching beside her, he looked inside.

“There is a small table and chairs and a bed too,” Samantha whispered reverently, as if she did not want to wake the tiny people who slept inside.

“This is a nice doll,” James said, picking up one that lay beside the house. It had black ringlets, green eyes, and a dress of bright pink with ruffles.

“She is very beautiful, just like Eden and Essex, don’t you think, James?”

“Hmmm” was all he could manage by way of agreement. Eden intruded far too much on his thoughts without his sister reminding him of her beauty.

It was testament to just how far their relationship had come in such a short time that he felt only slightly awkward discussing dolls with his little sister.

“James.”

“Yes, Samantha.”

He knew what she wanted; he could see the longing in her eyes as she looked down at the doll now in her hands. But he wanted her to ask him if she could have it. He wanted her to feel comfortable with him.

“C-can I have her?”

“Yes, but you must give her a pretty name to match her face.”

“Eden,” Samantha whispered.

“Ah... no,” James said, feeling his necktie tighten and restrict his breathing. “I think she should have her own name, don’t you? Not someone else’s.”

Samantha looked at the doll then back at him and nodded.

“Thank you, James.”

“You’re welcome.”

She struggled to her feet, clasping the doll to her chest. Her eyes were level with his now, and then she bent at the waist and kissed his cheek.

“It is the most wonderful gift in the world.”

“No,” James rasped, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “You are the most wonderful gift in the world.”

Her smile lit her entire face.

“Samantha!”

James heard the squeal from behind him and knew it was a Sinclair. Regaining his feet, he inhaled, pushing the emotion that choked him aside. Bracing himself he then turned. The twins were running toward Samantha, squealing loudly, and Eden was following slowly behind. The little girls soon joined Samantha on the floor and were immediately lost in the world of dolls while their sister had stopped several feet away looking everywhere but at him.

“Have you come to purchase books, or dolls?” James said, hoping to draw her gaze.

“Neither. My sisters grew tired of watching the dress fittings, so I brought them here until Essie and my aunt are finished.”

“And have you all settled in?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Her words were polite and distant, which was what he had wanted. James closed the distance between them, forcing her to retreat or look at him; he knew she would choose the latter. She had been crying, he could see the pallor of her cheeks and redness in her eyes. Someone had upset her and he could do nothing to control the rage that flooded his body.

“Who has made you cry?” His hand wrapped around her wrist as she turned to leave. “Tell me, Eden.”

“Release me at once.”

“Not until you tell me who has made you cry.”

“I am no concern of yours, Duke. I have family who look after my welfare.”

“They do not appear to be doing a very good job,” James whispered. There was so much sadness in the gray depths of her eyes that his stomach churned.

“No good can come of this, James, so please release me, and keep your distance.”

“Eden, come and see these dolls!”

Wrenching free, she hurried to her sisters. He watched as she hugged Samantha. His sister did not respond, but also did not pull away.

“They are beautiful, my loves.”

“Look at this one, James.”

James moved to stand before Dorset Sinclair and took the doll he was handed while his mind grappled with the fact that Eden had been crying. Surely he was not the cause? Had she lain awake last night thinking of their kisses?

“It is time for your fittings now, girls,” Eden said minutes later. Once again she looked everywhere but at him.

“We are to have new clothes, Samantha,” Dorrie said, taking the doll back from James and replacing it reluctantly on the shelf.

“Would we be asking too much to join your fitting, ladies?” he said quickly before he gave himself time to think. James had not the first idea how to go about procuring his sister new clothes. “Samantha is in need of new clothing also and as we are yet to secure a companion for her, the task, I am afraid, is left to me—a man.”

Eden muttered something that he did not catch, but thought it better he hadn’t, if the look on her face was any indication.

“If you wish, Duke, we will take care of Samantha’s needs and return her home to you in a while. There really is no need for you to accompany us.”

“His name is James, Eden.”

He didn’t smile as her teeth snapped together at Somer’s words, but at least her eyes now held fire instead of sadness.

“If it will not be too much of an inconvenience, I would be most grateful for your assistance, Eden.”

James had a task that he needed to see to, and this would give him the opportunity to do so.

“Thank you, James,” Samantha whispered. Her little face had lost the pinched look of a few days ago and he thought she looked happier. Perhaps some of it was the Sinclairs’ presence, but he also believed their blossoming relationship was helping.

“I have a few errands to run, Samantha, and then I will return home.”

“In that case, we shall keep Samantha with us until you collect her, if you wish?”

“Very well, and thank you, Eden. I shall call at the Wynburg residence later today.”

After a round of curtseying they left, and James wondered again who had made Eden cry and how he could find out.

...

He stepped from his carriage before a small brick-fronted building, tucked discreetly down a narrow lane. Taking the four front steps in two strides, James knocked twice on the white door. Seconds later he was ushered into a parlor that held a desk, two chairs, and a large cabinet. Rather than sit in one of the two upright chairs he walked slowly around the room.

Devonshire Sinclair had given James Mr. Spriggot’s name yesterday, telling him the man was one of the best private detectives in the business. James had not questioned the eldest Sinclair on how he knew this, he had merely nodded and taken the card. Sinclair may irritate him with his knowing looks and continual teasing, but he was an honorable man and he had saved James’s life, therefore he was trustworthy.

“Your Grace,” a small thin man said, walking into the room. “I am Mr. Spriggot.”

James shook the offered hand before lowering himself into a seat; the man circled the desk and did the same.

“How may I be of service to you this day?”

James could understand why Spriggot was so good at his work, as he had an appearance that was easily forgettable. Small, thin, and with a face that held little if no expression, the man would blend easily in any crowd. His eyes however were another matter entirely; the dark depths were alive with curiosity.

“Someone is trying to kill me, Mr. Spriggot, and as I have no wish for them to succeed, I would like to employ your services to ensure that does not eventuate.”

Rather than appear startled as most people would in learning that someone was trying to eradicate one of the more powerful peers of the realm, Mr. Spriggot’s brow furrowed in thought.

“I have come to you as I wish the investigation to be undertaken with the utmost privacy, and was assured you were the man for this.”

“I will do what I can, your Grace. Now then,” he picked up a quill, dipped it in the ink, and looked up at James, “I shall need all the details you have, and I would ask for half my fee up front if you please.”

The man had obviously dealt with several members of society in his time, James thought, pulling some notes from his pocket. Many aristocrats believed they did not need to pay as others did for the services rendered to them. He should be affronted but wasn’t; in fact he respected the man for daring to ask him for money.

“Excellent, now please begin to relate the facts in a slow and concise manner and I will make notes.”

James did as he asked, telling him about the attempt made on his life.

“An extremely brave lady to have taken such a risk, your Grace, if I may say so.”

“Yes, I will forever be in her debt.”

Mr. Spriggot scratched a few more notes before lifting his head once more to look at James.

“Can you tell me anything about the men, your Grace?”

“I cannot. However, the woman who rescued me said one of the men was called Syd, and that they referred to the man who wanted me dead as ‘his lordship.’“

“You have obviously given thought to who may want you dead, your Grace. Heirs, business dealings gone wrong?”

“I do not have business dealings go wrong, Mr. Spriggot, and my heir at this point in time is my cousin, but I have no reason to believe it is he. Last I heard he was in America building a vast fortune. There are of course other family members here in London, but they are not due to inherit should I die.”

Mr. Spriggot questioned James thoroughly until he believed he had all the facts he needed.

“I shall begin my investigations at once, your Grace.”

“I should be grateful,” James said, getting to his feet.

“May I also enquire how you came to know my name, as I usually only work with clients who have used my services before, your Grace.”

“Lord Sinclair gave me your name, sir.”

Nodding, the small man smiled, although it was not a gesture that warmed his face, just the smallest baring of his teeth and then it was gone.

“A very shrewd man, if you don’t mind me saying so, your Grace. I have a great deal of respect for Lord Sinclair.”

James wanted to ask what services Sinclair had used Spriggot for, yet he remained silent. The information was not his to know. Nodding good-bye, he left the establishment and climbed into his carriage to start the journey back to the Wynburg townhouse, where he would collect Samantha and once again see Eden.

Who had made her cry?

“You have to stop this, James, she is not now, nor will she ever be part of your life.” Feeling better for this bracing talk, he sat back and watched London roll by his window.

Chapter Ten

“Take the carriage back to the stables please, Nolan. Lady Samantha and I will walk back to the house.”

James walked up the steps to the Wynburg townhouse with the sound of his carriage rolling away. His knock was answered instantly and he was ushered inside seconds later.

“If you will follow me, your Grace, the family are expecting you.”

He had been inside the Earl and Countess’s home only once before for a ball. It was plush and grand on a scale he had rarely seen, yet he still felt the warmth reach out and wrap around him as he followed the straight back of the butler down a hall and up several flights of stairs. He smelled the fresh sweet scent of flowers and beeswax. Visions of his youth filtered through his head and James tried to remember if Raven Castle had ever had flowers dotted in vases or bright splashes of color upon the walls, but all he could see was darkness and the heavy weight of silence.

“The Duke of Raven.”

James entered the room after the butler had announced him and came to a halt just inside the door.

“Raven, you are just in time.” Lady Wynburg hurried forward and took his hand. “Come and take a seat as the show is about to begin.”

James allowed her to tow him to a seat, simply because he was incapable of speech or movement himself.

“Doesn’t Samantha look sweet?”

He managed to nod at the countess’s words as he looked at his sister. She stood wrapped in gold satin, a small felt hat on her head. She looked at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. Dear Lord, she thinks I will put a stop to whatever it is I have walked into. Clearing his throat, he somehow formed a smile, and watched the anxiety fall from her face.

“Are we ready, ladies and gentlemen?”

Eden spoke from behind the piano and James dragged his eyes from Samantha and wished he hadn’t. She sat under a window in a pale lemon dress that the sun had turned to a soft glow. He was relieved that all he could see of her was her neck and shoulder, although she had such a graceful neck and he longed to place his lips right at the base and kiss the soft skin. Muttering something vile beneath his breath, he crossed his legs and forced himself to focus on the children, not the lush temptress playing the piano.

Somer, Dorrie, and Samantha all stood together dressed in various costumes, waiting for Eden to begin playing. Essie stood to one side and began clapping as the music started. The Earl and Countess were obviously the audience and by the tears in the latter’s eyes and the way she clutched her husband’s hand, James realized this was a moment she was cherishing.

He had believed the relationship between the Sinclairs and their aunt and uncle was not a comfortable one, as none of them had seemed particularly happy about coming to London, but the emotion in this room suggested otherwise. What had happened to change things?

James watched as the little girls began a series of dance movements as Eden began to play the piano. Samantha was obviously not as accomplished as the twins, having probably only learned the steps today, yet she had a youthful grace that given time and instruction would blossom. He felt a fierce pull of emotion as she stumbled then righted herself, and identified it as a need to protect her. James tried to make sense of the emotions he felt when he looked at her.

She was his blood. His to care for and love, if he chose to do so. Could he risk loving her? As he sat there watching his sister he realized that there was no choice but to do so. She was a part of him now and his belief that he could keep his distance from this little girl was foolish. He’d thought himself a solitary person, but the thought of not having Samantha in his life made his previous existence now seem bleak.

He knew he had cousins, and one in particular he had once been close with. She had been younger than he, but he remembered that he’d cared for her, because she like he was raised by a monster, but like everything good in his life, his father had eventually driven her away too.

He had vague memories of people calling at Raven Castle and being turned away until finally they had just given up and left him to fend for himself with the beast that the civilized world had called the Duke of Raven. Yet he and Samantha had both survived and now they would begin to heal; he and his sister, together.

“Bravo, bravo!” The Earl roared as the trio finished.

“Now Eden can sing for us!” Dorrie cried as she Samantha and Somer went to have their costumes removed by Essie.

“Oh no, I don’t think that’s—”

“Please, Eden, I have yet to hear you sing, and your mother told me once of the beauty in your voice,” Lady Wynburg begged her niece.

James knew she didn’t want to play in front of him, yet she was torn as her aunt urged her on. Her teeth bit into the plump softness of her bottom lip as she tried to come up with the words to refuse.

“It would be an honor to hear you sing, Eden.”

She threw him a look as he spoke, and he could not read her expression from where he sat, but thought perhaps it would not be pleasant.

“Did you see me dance, James?”

Dragging his gaze from Eden, James looked into the sparkling eyes of his sister. “Indeed I did, and am sure they will be asking you to perform at Covent Garden any day now.”

Her little snuffle made his heart swell, as did the hand she patted on his knee. She then sat in the chair beside him.

“I am to have a pink dress,” she whispered before clasping her hands neatly in her lap.

“Pink is an odd color for a girl, surely?”

She did not answer him, but James saw the smile curl her lips and was happy with that. Looking to the stage as the music began, he watched Eden open her mouth to sing the first note. He was not enamored of this woman—he refused to allow it.

Her voice reached all corners of the room, and in seconds James could not drag his eyes from her. She was an enchantress, weaving some sort of spell around him, and he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and run for the hills, where she would be his alone.

“Eden has a beautiful voice, James.”

Nodding, he squeezed Samantha’s hand while his eyes remained on Eden. He had no idea how long he sat there watching her, the delicate arch of her brow, the high cheekbones and small stubborn chin. Her voice was pure, each note she hit perfect, and it wrapped around him, rolled through him and left him feeling raw and exposed.

For pity’s sake man, gain control. You are a duke, not some simpering, wet behind the ears boy.

“I had no idea you had the voice of an angel,” the Earl of Wynburg said as Eden sang the last note.

“Thank you, Uncle, but I am sure you exaggerate.”

“He doesn’t,” James said, when he had himself under control. “I have rarely heard better.”

“Thank you.”

She accepted his words as she rose from the piano, then moved to the opposite side of the room.

“And now it is supper time and I think we will put off Astley’s until another night if you do not mind, Raven, as the children are still weary from their journey,” Lord Wynburg said.

“Of course,” James said, bowing, unaware that he had decided that tonight was the night they would attend. Finding Somer, he saw her frown.

“We shall go, Somer, but I think it best to wait until everyone has settled.”

Her sigh was loud. “All right, but please make it soon, James.”

“I promise,” he said solemnly.

“I have promised Samantha that she may stay for tea, James, which means you will also stay.”

He wondered how he could extricate himself without appearing rude.

“I’m sure the duke has more important things to do, Aunt—”

“Nonsense, Eden dear.” Lady Wynburg smiled. “Surely he can spare us a moment of his time to share our table. Is that not right, James?”

It seemed like he, Eden wanted distance between them.

“Please, James.”

Samantha tugged his hand, excited at the thought of taking tea with her new friends. Did she really want to eat with the Sinclairs? he thought, remembering the loud and exuberant meals he had shared with them on their journey to London.

“Give in, Raven,” the Earl said in his booming voice, “they’ll win anyway, they always do.”

“Well then, that’s settled,” Lady Wynburg said, putting an end to any further attempts at evasion by James. “Come along, everything should be ready for us.”

James knew when he was beaten and so gave in gracefully. “If you are sure, my lady,” he said, placing a hand on Samantha’s shoulder. “My sister does tend to eat a great deal. I hope there will be enough for everyone.”

The little girls giggled, as he’d hoped they would. Eden did not make a sound, instead walking from the room, and he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was as happy as he at Lady Wynburg’s invitation.

Tea was informal with the family all sprawled in chairs. Eden dragged the twins to a couch and beckoned Samantha to join them too. The Duke sat across from her, his long legs stretched out before him.

She’d watched James with Samantha earlier, and there was no doubting they were more comfortable together. While she may feel frustrated, angry, and several other strong words about the Duke, Eden was glad the siblings, who had obviously always been alone, had finally found each other.

“Cherry cake!” Somer squealed, bouncing back out of her seat as the maid started distributing plates loaded with food.

“Did I hear the words cherry cake?”

Eden watched Cam walk into the room. The smile on his lips did not reach his eyes and she knew their father’s betrayal still cut him deeply. She feared for him, because unlike the others in her family, he would take longer to deal with what they had learned. Growing up, he was the one who forgave last and remembered any slight or grievance longest. Plus there was the matter of his excessive drinking habits and overindulgence in any vice he could find. Now he was once again in London, she feared that would only escalate given his state of mind.

“James,” he said, bowing to the Duke who had risen to do the same. “I see you too have heard of my aunt’s legendary supper table.”

“She was very persuasive,” James said, returning to his seat and plate of food.

He looked surprisingly comfortable with the small teacup in one hand and a piece of cake in the other and Eden felt the slow thud of her heartbeat rise as she tried to observe him without him realizing it.

He wore a waistcoat of charcoal and a matching jacket that pulled tight as he bent to replace his cup on its saucer. His necktie was neatly folded, but not as outrageously as Cam’s often was. She saw the outline of his muscular thighs through buff breeches tucked into hessians. Why him? What was it about this man that made her heart race? She’d convinced herself her preoccupation with him was because of the history between their families, but was fooling only herself. This man produced feelings inside Eden she’d never experienced before.

“Where are Dev?” Dorrie said around a mouthful of cake.

“In a meeting, I believe,” Cam said, taking a second piece of cake and balancing it beside the first on his plate before finding himself a seat.

“How have you found your first day back in London, Cambridge?”

“It has been enlightening, James, thank you.”

Eden hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she released it. Cam often spoke without thought and when he was feeling cornered or angry he was volatile. She had feared he would alert the Duke in some way to their discussions this morning and she had no wish for him to know that anything was wrong with the Sinclair family, especially since he’d questioned her on why she had been crying.

“How so?” the Duke inquired.

“It is always enlightening to learn one’s parent is not quite what one—”

“Cam!”

Both Eden and Essie stopped him. Thankfully their younger siblings had heard nothing as they were in conversation with their aunt and uncle, who also seemed oblivious to the undercurrents in the room, but it would not take long before they did so, if Cam continued.

“Believed whilst growing up,” Cam added, finishing his sentence as if his sisters had not spoken.

Eden watched the Duke look first at Cam then to Essie and Eden.

“I’m sure your childhood was more pleasant than mine, Sinclair.”

She knew that he didn’t say the words to garner sympathy, they were just a statement of fact, and her heart ached for the boy he had been.

“You know nothing of our childhood, Raven,” Cam snarled. At least he was aware that their little sisters were in the room because he was speaking softly.

Eden glared at her brother. “That is enough, Cam.”

“Don’t tell me that is enough, Eden. I am an adult and able to speak my mind without you two shrews interfering,” her brother hissed, his face twisted with malice.

“Adult?” Eden scoffed. “Perhaps if you behaved like one occasionally we would not be forced to censure you constantly.”

Cam regained his feet, glared at his sisters, and in seconds had stormed from the room. Essie started to rise but Eden motioned her back down with a shake of her head.

“You cannot help him, Essie, leave him be.”

Eden felt the Duke’s eyes on her, but refused to look his way, knowing they would be full of questions she could not answer.

“Samantha told me she is to have a pink dress, Essex. I cannot thank you and Eden enough for coming to my aid. I fear I would have failed miserably had my sister’s clothing choices been left to me.”

Eden was relieved when the Duke changed the subject; she did not wish to discuss Cam’s petulant behavior with him.

“We are more than happy to help you anytime,” Essie replied.

Soon they were discussing what else Samantha would need, and to his credit the Duke appeared to be listening and even asked a few questions. He was changing, Eden realized. He was becoming a big brother and the thought was a pleasing one, even if she wanted to shake him at the same time for making her realize the joy in a simple kiss.

She was relieved when he finally rose and signaled to Samantha they were to leave.

“Thank you once again for your help with Samantha.”

He bowed to Essie and then Eden. She did not meet his eyes as he looked at her, and she inhaled her first deep breath when he had left the room.

...

Life for the Sinclairs changed dramatically living under the roof of their aunt and uncle. Since the day they had discovered their father’s perfidy, everyone but Cam had worked hard at strengthening the bond with their aunt and uncle.

Essie and Eden spent most mornings shopping and being fitted for their new clothes and the afternoons were put aside for dance instruction and learning what would be required upon entering society. Dev was often called upon to be a partner, as was their uncle; of Cam however there was no sign.

“I have not seen Cam for four days, Dev,” Eden said as he waltzed her around her aunt and uncle’s ballroom.

“I cannot talk here,” Dev said, easing them to a halt as the music finished, “but there is something I must tell both you and Essie about Cam.”

“Well, my dears, I do believe you are both coming along very well. By the time of your first social gathering you shall be quite proficient in all aspects.”

“Thank you, Aunt, and if you are finished with us for the day Dev wishes to take Essie and me for a drive in the park.”

“Lovely, of course, my dear, and I shall go and see how the children are faring.”

“Come, Essie.” Eden grabbed her sister’s arm. “Dev, we shall meet you in the carriage shortly.”

Hurrying to their rooms, she told Essie what Dev had said, and in minutes both had pulled on their bonnets and gloves and were running back down the stairs and out the front door to join Dev in the carriage. No one spoke until it had rolled out the drive.

“Tell us what has happened to Cam, Dev?” Eden asked.

“He is going out every evening to drink and gamble. I have no idea how he is paying for it and fear he must owe someone a vast amount of money.”

Eden felt her stomach clench at the devastated look on her brother’s face.

“He feels betrayed and hurt by what father did to us and is attempting to numb the pain by drinking himself into a stupor every night. He stumbles home as the sun rises, then falls into bed to sleep until he is ready to rise, bathe, eat, and start the entire process once more.”

“Dear Lord, that selfish idiot!” Eden snapped. “We are all suffering yet it is always he that must make a production out of everything.”

“I can’t get through to him, and I fear if we don’t stop him he will not live to see the end of the year.”

Eden and Essie looked at Dev as he slumped back on the seat. He was exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and defeated, and the pallor of his cheeks suggested his sleep had been little better than his errant younger brother’s. Both sisters had hoped that once they arrived in London and were under their aunt and uncle’s roof Dev would feel less burdened by his family. They wanted him to fall in love, laugh, and enjoy life now the responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders. Cam, however, made that difficult. Damn their brother and his selfish ways.

“Do you go out at night and try to find him, Dev? Is this why you look so tired?” Eden asked.

“I shadow him as best I can, but if he sees me he flies into a rage.” Dev ran a tired hand over his face. “I knocked him unconscious one night and carried him to the carriage then home, but I fear I cannot do that every night.”

“You should have told us, Dev!” Essie cried.

“And what could you have done except worry?”

“Should we come and talk with him to see if we can make him see sense?”

“Yes, Eden is right, perhaps we can get through to him. We will come over this evening and tell him that Warwick, Dorrie, and Somer keep asking after him,” Essie added.

“He didn’t come home last night. I will go out and find him soon and when I get him home I will call for you both,” Dev said.

He was weary to his bones, Eden could see it as he slumped back on the carriage seat and closed his eyes.

“Is there no one you can ask to help look, Dev? Perhaps I could come and just sit in the carriage, I would be able to hear Cam’s voice and—”

“Absolutely not, I forbid it, Eden,” Dev said, still with his eyes closed. “This is not our village, this is London, and it is not safe for a young woman to frequent the places I am forced to, even if you remain in the carriage.”

“All right, Dev,” Eden placated him. Her brother’s words did not send her into a missish fit of vapors as they would many; she understood about London. Their brothers had lectured her and Essie about the dangers awaiting them in London before leaving Oak’s Knoll. She knew what waited for a person after dark in the wrong parts of town.

“But what about our uncle, can he not help?”

“No, he has done enough for us already, and after the way our father treated him I have no wish to drag him through this as well. This is something I must fix as swiftly as I can before our brother’s journey to self-destruction is complete. Cam is in a very bad place at the moment and I want no one but us dealing with him.”

“Can you see it, Dev, what is destroying him?”

Shaking his head, Dev opened his eyes and looked at Essie. “All I see is black, Ess, dark and angry. Even when he was bad before I could see the orange that filled him, but now I see only darkness. Our father’s betrayal has toppled him over the edge and I am fearful we will never have our brother back.”

The sisters each took one of their brother’s hands then let him sleep as the carriage rolled slowly around the park.

“This will not end well, Eden, I feel it,” Essie whispered when she was sure Dev slept.

“I do too.” Eden nodded. She would do what she could to help her brothers, no matter the cost.

Chapter Eleven

James stared out the carriage window at the night sky as it carried him home. He saw flashes of light as he passed a lamp, and heard the occasional burst of voices. The night was cool, but he still travelled with the window down, enjoying the air on his face.

His evening had not gone to plan, and for the life of him he could not work out why. He’d seen his sister to bed and then gone out to his club to have a meal, as he often did when in town. The season did not start in earnest for two weeks, but there were still plenty of people around. James had shared his meal with Lords Gideon and Halverstorm, two men with whom he could loosely lay claim to friendship. Both had gone to Eton with him and then fought alongside him during the campaign. They understood him as much as anyone ever had, or perhaps the correct phrase was as much as he allowed anyone to.

The problem was he kept thinking about Samantha and Eden. Was his sister settled in bed? Did she miss him? Was she scared? He should not have left her so soon after arriving in London. James knew this was how a parent must feel leaving their child for the first time. And then there was the beautiful Miss Eden Sinclair.

Would she be betrothed by season’s end? How could she not be? Someone with her beauty and spirit would be sought after from her first foray into society. He hated the ugly twist of pain in his gut at the thought, and acknowledged it as jealousy. She was not the woman for him, she was far too passionate and would demand his attention. No, when he wed, it would be to a gentle, well-bred lady who was happy to do what gentle women did. Read, stitch, and raise his children.

Propping his boots on the opposite seat, he contemplated the darkness as he drew nearer to his home and Samantha. In the past he had neither liked nor disliked returning home. It had been a place where he slept, ate, and dressed, but now his sister lived there and for her sake he would make it into a home. Yawning, he leaned to look out the window to see how much further he had to travel. It would not do to fall asleep so close to home.

He saw two figures walking quickly down the road, and suddenly the hair at his nape rose. Getting to his feet, he leaned out and looked to where they now were. They were women, both about the same height. Why the hell did that bother him? Women should not be walking at such an hour, but there was no law against it.

“Stop the coach, Jonah!”

Leaping from the vehicle, he told his driver to wait as he ran back down the street. James wasn’t sure why he was approaching them, but he knew he must. They turned, hearing his footsteps, then picking up their skirts, both women started to flee. James didn’t know what alerted him, but in seconds he knew he was closing in on the Sinclair sisters.

“Eden, stop!”

She looked over her shoulder as he shouted and stopped running when she realized who was pursuing her. James was upon them seconds later. He watched her step in front of Essie as if to protect her from him, which annoyed him as he’d never hurt either of these women—or any woman, for that matter.

“What the bloody hell are you doing out here alone at this time of night!”

“How dare you speak in such a manner to us!”

She would never back down from him, James knew, and the irrational part of his nature relished her spirit.

“I will not let you take another step, Eden, therefore it is in your best interests to tell me why you are standing alone and unprotected on a London street at such an hour.”

“What we do is n-none of your concern, Duke.” She was terrified, he realized. Her eyes were wide, face pale and when Essie stepped to her side James noted her expression was the same.

“We are not moving until you tell me what I want to know.” To show his intent he widened his stance and folded his arms, looking deliberately intimidating.

“We are taking in some air,” she said quickly. “Our room is stuffy and Essie has a headache, therefore we thought a stroll would clear it.”

“At midnight?”

“As you see.”

“With no escort?”

“We have each other.”

James let an uncomfortable silence settle between them before he said, “You are lying to me, Eden, and I will stand here as long as it takes for you to tell me the truth.”

“Tell him, Eden, perhaps he can help us. We have nothing to lose.”

“No. Dev said no one but family must know.”

James did not speak, just waited and watched. Eden looked at him then looked away. He could tell she was shaking; her hands were trembling as she pulled her cloak tighter around her body. What the hell was going on and where were their bloody brothers?

“I know what he said, but in all honesty, Eden, James looks about as moveable as the house we just left, and I for one have no wish to stand here all evening.”

Good girl, James thought. At least one of the sisters was still thinking clearly.

Eden stayed silent as she looked at her sister, and then let out a loud, weighty sigh before once again facing James. “My uncle gave us some news, and it has upset my brother Cambridge. He has not been himself.”

She shivered after delivering these words, so he said, “Come, we will finish the conversation in my carriage.” James took her arm and that of her sister. They put up little resistance as he bundled them inside his carriage. Once seated, he turned up the small lamp and removed two blankets from beneath the seats. The air had a chill, and he did not know how long they had been out in it, or if their shivers were driven by fear, but he handed one to Essex and the other to Eden.

“Now continue.”

“Before I say anything, you must promise not to tell my aunt and uncle that you saw us out here tonight, and you must also promise not to tell them what we discuss.”

James held Eden’s gaze and then gave a curt nod.

“Dev told us yesterday that Cam has been out every night, drinking, gambling, and—”

“I understand,” James said, waving her on.

“Dev has spent his nights trying to find him. One night he was forced to knock Cam senseless and bring him home unconscious. Unfortunately, it did not scramble what little intelligence he has into rational thought, and Cam proceeded to leave the house again the following evening.”

“Eden,” Essie said softly, “he is our brother.”

“He is a fool, Essie, and you know it. Irresponsible and childish and now he has put Dev in danger. I shall never forgive him for that if Dev is hurt in any way.”

“Why is he behaving this way?”

It was Essie who answered him.

“We were given some distressing news upon our arrival in London, James. It concerned our father, and I fear Cam took it harder than Dev, Eden, and me.”

“I could kill him,” Eden growled.

James wanted to reach across the carriage and grab her. He wanted her seated on his lap, his arms around her. She was frightened yet still fighting it. This woman would never show weakness, he realized, at least not to him.

“That still does not explain why you two are walking the streets at midnight.”

“I overheard two footmen discussing my brothers,” Eden said reluctantly. “They said they feared Cam was playing a smoky game and that soon he would be in too deep and Dev would not be able to help him out.”

“Do you know where they have gone?” James said, wondering where she had been to overhear the footmen.

He watched her hands twist in the blanket she had laid over her knees; it was the only outward sign of her agitation.

“Easy, Eden.” He grabbed her hands to hold them still. “Tell me what you know.”

“Bastil’s.”

James knew the place by reputation; he had never been there personally. Bastil’s had taken many a young man’s fortunes, and some had gone on to take their lives. It was a place frequented by those who were desperate, and those who preyed on the weak.

“I will take you home and then go and find your brothers.”

“No! We will come with you,” Eden said, pulling her hands free.

“Be reasonable, Eden, Bastil’s is not a place for either you or your sister.”

“We will wait in the carriage, then, but I will not return home without my brothers.”

She raised that bloody determined chin of hers and James knew if he did return her to the Wynburg home she would only slip out again.

“All right, but you will stay in the carriage, do you understand?”

Both ladies nodded. He held Eden’s eyes the longest, knowing that if anyone was to defy him it would be her.

After giving his driver the change of direction, James turned down the lamp once more and sat back in his seat. If Cam had got in deep at Bastil’s then he could possibly buy him out, yet he knew the eldest Sinclair would not handle his interference easily. The man would just have to swallow his pride, however, if that was the course that needed to be taken. James wondered if before the night was out he would actually have found a way to repay some of the debt he owed the Sinclairs.

Eden sat silently clasping her sister’s hand across from him. Her eyes flitted from him to outside the carriage window then back to him again. Now that she was safe, the tension in his body was beginning to ease. Infernal woman, he wasn’t meant to feel like this, and especially not for her. Between Eden and Samantha, they had exposed things inside him he’d just as soon remained locked away.

When the carriage began to slow, Eden appeared to pull something out of her ear, and she rushed to open the door and stick her head outside.

“Close that door!” James roared, reaching for her.

“Please, James, let her do this, she has—um—she will know if either of our brothers are inside.” Essie stumbled to a halt after these strange words.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Before he could grab Eden, she was back in her seat with the door closed once more.

“They are inside, James.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I just do,” she said, looking nervous.

James wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, and now was not the time to delve deeper, so he put that question aside for another day.

“Under no circumstance are you to leave this carriage, ladies. If you do you risk not only your own life but the lives of myself and your brothers, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, James,” Essie whispered. Eden nodded but said nothing.

“I’ll have your word, Eden,” James said.

“I will stay in the carriage.” She didn’t look happy about the promise, but he believed she would not break her word.

Stepping from the carriage, he told his driver to make sure neither of the women inside left, and that if they did he was to pull the gun from beneath his seat and point it at them.

“I heard that!”

“As you were meant to,” James said, loud enough for Eden to hear. This was not a time for levity, but he found himself smiling just the same. The woman made him feel alive, and he would not examine that thought at this moment either.

Schooling his features into those of a bored nobleman seeking entertainment after a long night of drinking and revelry, he wandered into Bastil’s, then through the rooms. Filled with the scent of spirits, tobacco, and whores wearing cheap perfume, they made him feel ill. A man could get anything for his baser needs here.

“Would you like a tumble, my lovely?”

Waving his hand vaguely, James did not stop as the woman leaned into his body, thrusting her breasts into his chest. He merely pushed her aside and kept walking. He noted several faces he knew; some surprised him, others did not, and then he heard Cam’s voice.

“I don’t need you to look after me!”

Moving into the next room, James saw Devon Sinclair holding his brother by the arm. Before him stood a table at which Cam had obviously been playing, and losing, by the look of the few chips left in front of him. Four men had moved to face Devon, all angry that their play had been interrupted. Three he knew vaguely. One he was unfortunate enough to call cousin.

“Gentlemen, it seems you will have to excuse us, as my friend wishes to retire from the game,” James said, moving to stand in front of the Sinclair brothers.

“He owes me money, lots of it, and I want an assurance that I’ll get it!”

James bared his lips briefly in a semblance of a smile, as he impaled the man before him with a steely glare.

“Lord Baraclough, how surprised I am to see you here. Surely not your usual haunt, but yes—of course I remember now,” James said, with a small forced cough.

“What! I-I, h-how dare you!” Baraclough spluttered as he turned red. The man had been found cheating at one of the more respectable clubs and barred from it and several others. Word had spread quickly, until he was not welcomed anywhere in polite society.

“Cousin, I had not expected to ever see you play the role of cavalry.”

“Shut up, Nicholas,” James said in a hard tone as he looked at the man who could be his brother. Not as tall, but their coloring was identical. They were kin, but as close as strangers.

“You have no right to tell me anything, Raven. Sinclair owes us money—”

“God’s blood, Nicholas, if you don’t shut up I will make you!”

It seemed his cousin was not as stupid as he had originally thought because he sat back in his seat and closed his mouth.

“Now, how much does Sinclair owe you, all of you,” James added, looking at each of the men before him. He heard Devon groan as the men told James what was owed. The amount was substantial.

“Go, Sinclair, take your brother and leave here now,” James said, turning briefly to face Devon. He saw the lines of exhaustion and despair on his face. This was a man who had been pushed too hard and was ready to break.

“It would be wrong of our family to let you handle this matter, Raven.”

James pulled out his trump card. “Probably, but as your sisters await you in my carriage, I think it best you go to them before they come and find you.”

“Good God, you brought them with you?”

“They came looking for you and Cam and I intercepted them,” James said, watching Sinclair pick up his brother and throw him over his shoulder.

“This family will be the death of me,” Devonshire Sinclair growled as he stalked from the room.

James pulled cards from his inside pocket and handed one to each of the men, excluding his cousin, who knew exactly where to find him. “My man will deal with you all. Present yourselves at his address tomorrow and this matter will be settled. It will then not be discussed again,” he said, meeting each of the men’s eyes. When he was sure they took his meaning, he turned on his heel and followed the Sinclair brothers from the room.

Cam was putting up a fight as his brother and sisters attempted to get him into the carriage. They were creating a stir, and very soon all would realize that Eden and Essie were here, outside Bastil’s at such an hour.

“Get in the carriage, Eden,” James said as he wrenched Cam from his brother and then planted his fist into his jaw. He then gathered him up and threw him onto the carriage floor.

“After you,” he said to Devon, and then climbed in behind him.

“He will wake soon, Miss Sinclair,” James said as Essie ran her hands over her unconscious brother, who lay sprawled at their feet. “It was a light tap, nothing lasting, I promise you.”

She looked uncertain but nodded.

“Thank you,” Devon said, and James knew how much the words cost the eldest Sinclair. Like him, pride was something both men had in abundance.

“I believe the ledger is nearly clean,” James said.

“I am unsure what transpired in Bastil’s, but we will repay you if money was exchanged.”

“Of course.” James nodded. Sinclair’s pride would allow nothing less. “You should tell your aunt and uncle, they are stronger than you believe,” he said, looking across the carriage at Eden. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she looked at her big brother. The love she felt for him was written on every beautiful inch of her face, and James wondered what it would feel like to have that kind of devotion from such a woman.

“We have relied on ourselves for so long that I am unsure how to do as you say,” Dev said, his words gruff as emotion and fatigue threatened to overwhelm him.

“I understand what you say, Devon, as it is the same for me, but lately I have realized that being an island is extremely taxing upon a person.”

Devon managed a grunt of acknowledgment. James then watched Eden hold out a hand to her eldest brother and him grip it tight. She kicked Cam in the leg hard. He heard her mutter, “fool” and he wanted to smile, but swallowed it. The gesture was so very much her; if she was angry then everyone knew about it. James wondered when he had begun to understand her so well.

The hour was late as the carriage stopped outside the second Wynburg residence. James stepped down and then turned to pick up Cam.

“I will carry him.” Devon moved to take his brother.

“Sinclair, you are swaying on your feet from exhaustion and while it would not hurt this young whelp to be dropped on his head, it would not do for anyone to see us at this hour.”

Devon gave one short nod followed by a huge yawn, then helped his sisters from the carriage. They made it undetected into the house where the butler waited.

“Essie, you lead your brother to his bed and Eden and I will put Cam into his.”

It was a testament to Devon’s exhaustion that he allowed his sister to take him to the stairs and slowly followed her up.

“What is your name?” James questioned the butler.

“Randal, Your Grace.”

“Please furnish us with directions to this Mr. Sinclair’s rooms, Randal, and then have one of your largest footmen follow.”

“At once, your Grace,” Randal said. After giving directions, he then bowed and retreated into the bowels of the house to follow James’s orders.

“Lead the way,” James said, nodding to Eden.

The journey was not long, one flight and one hallway and they had arrived. Eden swung the door open and walked inside. The room was immaculate, which forced a small laugh from her lips.

“What?” James said, throwing Cam onto the bed. Eden did not appear unhappy when her brother’s head connected with the headboard.

“Cam’s room at Oak’s Knoll never looked this tidy.”

“Come, we will remove his boots and coat, the rest can wait until tomorrow.”

“Will he be all right?” Eden whispered as she began to pull her brother’s arm from the sleeve.

“Yes, I promise you he will.”

“H-he is not a bad man. He just makes mistakes.”

James dropped the last boot onto the floor as she spoke. “I know that, Eden.”

“I am scared for him,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears as she looked down at the face of her brother.

In two strides James had her in his arms. Wrapping them tightly around her he tucked her head under his chin and held her while she cried. Hot tears seeped through his shirt as the events of the night caught up with her.

“It will work out, Eden, your aunt and uncle are good people and whatever demons are driving your brother, with the love of your family he will get through this. And if not, then I’ll beat it out of him.”

Lifting her head from his chest she smiled up at him through her tears. Such beguiling eyes, they made him want to promise her anything she desired.

“No more tears, Eden,” he whispered.

“How can we ever thank you?” Their faces were so close her soft breath brushed his lips.

“I think you have that wrong, madam. It is I who owe you. Twice your family has saved my life. It will take me a lifetime to repay such a debt.”

“History would suggest there will be more to come.” She attempted to smile but failed.

“It is my fondest wish that you are wrong.” James knew he should walk away but he was powerless to do so. Her brother lay snoring beside them and any second her siblings could appear, but he could do nothing to stop lowering his head.

“No, James, not again.” She shook her head.

“Yes, James, again,” he prompted, and was rewarded with her sweet sigh as she leaned into him.

“This is wrong.”

“I know.” When his lips met hers his body shuddered. James had been waiting for this moment since their last kiss, wanting to have her in his arms again, desperate to taste her soft lips. Slipping a hand inside her cloak he stroked the length of her spine, wanting more of her, needing to feel her body beneath his fingers. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her defenses to duel with hers. Tracing the edge of her bodice, he then stroked her neck. Her skin felt like warm silk. They both groaned at the contact, her fingers starting a journey of their own, up his shoulders to tangle in his hair.

A groan from the bed made them stop. Eden stumbled backward out of his arms.

“Eden, we must go.” Essex Sinclair appeared in the doorway.

“Yes.” She walked past him. “Good evening and thank you, James.”

“I shall walk you to your door.”

“There is no need, it is but a few feet.” Eden did not look at him as she spoke.

“There is a footman waiting for us, James,” her sister added.

He would follow and watch until they were inside, but he did not tell them that. “Very well, good night, ladies.”

After Eden had gone, James stood for several minutes reliving the feel of her in his arms. She was a complication in his life, a huge complication that he had no clear answer how to deal with.

Giving the bed a last glance, he checked Cambridge Sinclair, who was still lying in the exact position he had put him. James walked from the room. After instructing the footmen to keep a watch on Cambridge, and that under no circumstances was the man to leave the house, he climbed into his carriage and headed home.

Perhaps when the season started and he was surrounded by other women his need for Eden Sinclair would ease. And you’re a fool if you believe that. One thing was certain; he could not be alone with her after tonight. She was too tempting and she was a lady, therefore she deserved his respect. If anyone had seen them tonight he would be marrying her in the morning, and that thought should terrify him a lot more than it did.

…

“My head hurts.”

James walked into Cambridge Sinclair’s room the following morning as he grumbled those words to a servant who was removing a tray. Closing the door behind the maid, he then locked it and walked to the bed. Of the elder Sinclair there was no sign, which James was grateful for. He had a few words to say to the man who had caused his family so much grief the previous evening.

“What do you want?” Cambridge Sinclair snarled as he struggled into an upright position where he leaned against the headboard. His breath was raspy and his skin sweaty. All signs of a man experiencing a ripping sore head after a night spent imbibing.

“Last night I found your two elder sisters walking down the street—alone, Cambridge. When I realized it was them, I stopped my carriage and asked what had possessed them to take such a reckless jaunt in the dark, alone, where any scoundrel could pick them up and do unspeakable things to them. Do you know what their answer was, Cambridge?”

He shook his head but his eyes told a different story. He knew exactly why his sisters had done what they had.

“They were trying to find you and your elder brother,” James said, reining in his temper as it began to simmer once again. Anything could have happened to those two last night. Any unscrupulous lowlife could have harmed them. The thought made his blood boil.

“Devon had been following you for many nights, making sure you stayed safe from harm, but you were making his task extremely difficult, and so they had decided to assist him.”

“Go to hell!” Cam snapped. “You have nothing to do with our lives, unless it is to thank us for saving yours.”

“Not this time, Cambridge. This time you cost me a great deal and your family more.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

He was sweating profusely, a large hank of dirty hair had fallen over his eyes, and he looked about fifteen years old.

“According to your sisters, your brother has not slept or eaten for nights in his pursuit of you. Your younger siblings are wondering why you do not visit them, and Essie and Eden are caught between tears and anger at your selfishness. They are all lying to your aunt and uncle to keep your reputation safe.”

“You don’t understand.” Cambridge threw James a sullen look.

“You, sir, need to grow up,” James said quietly. “You have a family who love you, a brother who would lay his life down for you, and yet you treat them in such a cavalier manner.”

“You don’t understand,” Cambridge said again, but this time his words held little strength.

“I understand that you feel betrayed in some way by your father and yet he allowed you to live under his roof, in a home that may not have always had money, yet it always had love. Do you know what it is like to live without love, Cambridge?”

He was honest and shook his head, and then winced as the action made it hurt.

“My father banned me from my own home at ten years of age. I lived between schools and servants, but if I am ever lucky enough to live with the love you have, I would never treat those who give it to me with so little respect.”

James watched the belligerence leave Cam’s face, to be replaced by shame.

“I-I, oh God, what have I done?”

James did not move as Cam buried his face in his hands. He stood quietly until he was once again in control, and then he finished what he had come to say.

“You owe me a vast amount of money, Cambridge, as last night I cleared your gambling debts.”

“Mother of God,” he groaned again.

“I am aware you do not have the resources to pay them back, and I will not allow you to borrow the money, therefore you will repay it by working for me. I will expect you at my front door at precisely nine o’clock tomorrow morning—and Cambridge, do not be late,” James said as he walked toward the door.

Chapter Twelve

“There are thousands of people looking at us, Dev.”

“You exaggerate, there are only hundreds and they are just curious about what you look like, Eden. Once they see you are whey-faced with the body of a dumpling they will lose interest.”

“Whey-faced!” Eden hissed, her nails biting into the sleeve of her big brother’s jacket as he guided her down the stairs.

The Sinclair sisters were attending their first social event, Lady Dalton’s musical evening. Their aunt had assured them it would be a small gathering for their first foray into society.

“A few people, Aunt said,” Eden muttered, glaring at her aunt and uncle who were ahead of them.

“She has lived in society for years, Eden, this is probably a few people to her, and compared to some events I have attended, this is a small gathering.”

Looking over the sea of faces Eden studied the room. Huge candelabras stood on cabinets and in alcoves, and more candles hung suspended in chandeliers from the ceiling. The guests glittered and sparkled, dressed in a myriad of colors, and waiters dashed about dispensing drinks. The sight was in fact everything Eden had thought it would be and so much more.

“I am here with you, and as you can see Cam has Essie, love, now relax.” Dev patted her gloved hand where it clenched his sleeve.

“Cam looks good, doesn’t he, Dev?”

“Very good. In fact I’m stunned at the changes in him, and I’m sure in some way the Duke is behind it. Yet Cam will not tell me anything.”

Eden refused to acknowledge the flutter in her chest at the mention of the Duke.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because no one has approached me for money and Cam had none, but gambled heavily. There is also the matter of Cam spending a great deal of his time at the Duke’s house.”

“Does he, I had not realized. What do you think he is doing there?”

Two weeks had passed since that horrible night, and she had seen very little of James—which she was pleased about, Eden reminded herself yet again.

“My guess is paying off his debts.”

Eden wondered if he was correct. Had James paid their brother’s debts, and if so why? Was it to his mind recompense for her and Dev saving his life?

“Don’t think about it now, Eden, tonight is for you and Essie.”

“Are we dressed appropriately, Dev?”

“Yes, you look beautiful. Although had I my way your neckline would be several inches higher and the material of your dress would be thick brocade. Are you wearing a corset under that flimsy material?”

“Should you be mentioning my unmentionables, brother? You look very handsome too, by the way.” Eden scanned the crowd as they followed Essie and Cam, although who she searched for was a mystery as the only people she knew were family.

“Christ!”

“What?” Eden questioned as Dev cursed beside her.

“Good God what the hell is that odd woman wearing now!”

“What woman?”

“Miss Lilliana Braithwaite.”

Eden followed her brother’s gaze to where a fair-haired lady stood. From the large, floral arrangement topped with a cluster of grapes, perched in her hair, to the hideously ill shaped orange dress, she did indeed appear odd.

“She’s a bloody, brainless twit.”

“Dev!” Eden looked around them; thankfully no one stood close enough to hear her brother’s outburst. His eyes were focused on Miss Braithwaite with furious intensity, brows lowered, his scowl menacing.

“What?”

“I cannot believe you are cursing in public, where anyone can overhear you.” Eden waved her hand around. “It is not like you.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just stay away from her, Eden.”

“Why?”

Dev sighed. “Why can you just not accept my words?”

“You know me better than that.”

“She’s—she’s just strange, Eden. Please stay away from her.”

“But surely there must be a reason for your reaction?”

He threw the woman a dark look. “I had the displeasure of dancing with her once. She spent the entire time explaining the migration habits of a Red-Necked Grebe. I was so bored I’m sure I nodded off standing up. Then when I told her I had heard enough, she called me an unintelligent clod.”

Eden placed a hand on her chest in mock horror. “Never tell me she didn’t spend the entire dance flattering your ego?”

“Eden,” Dev warned.

“You being the epitome of male elegance, and a highly regarded and upstanding member of society.”

“Have you quite finished?”

Eden smiled. “I believe so.”

“This season,” he muttered, “is going to be testing on my nerves.”

“Poor delicate man that you are.”

“Shrew,” he said beneath his breath, knowing quite well she would hear it.

Eden patted his arm but remained silent. She threw Miss Lilliana Braithwaite a last look as he led her away. She would make sure she was introduced, because anyone who made her big brother react so violently deserved closer inspection, and then she would decide for herself the character of the woman.

“Smile and simper, sister.”

“Must I?”

“It is the done thing.”

“Says who?”

“All the silliest debutantes do it.”

“I have no wish to be known as silly.”

Dev smiled, and she saw the brother he had been before responsibilities had weighed him down.

“Too late.”

He grunted as she elbowed him in the ribs.

Eden was introduced to the hostess, Lady Dalton, who to her mind appeared a silly type of woman. She seemed to giggle a great deal and bat her eyelashes at Dev, but for all that she was polite, and took the time to introduce Eden and Essie to some of the guests.

Soon they were taking their seats and the first person to perform took her seat behind the piano. Thirty minutes later Eden was stifling a groan as the woman hit yet another wrong note.

“Push them in further!”

“I’m trying!” Eden snapped to Cam, struggling to force her earplugs deeper as the girl singing hit a high note and failed, and the sound nearly pierced her eardrums. The problem was Eden could pick out every wrong note and missed key and that made her a terrible critic.

“Oooh, that was two wrong notes,” she whispered to Dev.

“Stop it,” he hissed back.

Most of the Sinclair family, barring Warwick who played a creditable flute, refrained from playing a musical instrument or singing as Eden was forced to leave the house when they practiced, because she couldn’t help constantly trying to correct them.

“Thank you, Miss Blackford-Smyth, such a wonderful voice,” Lady Dalton said, clapping loudly as around her everyone sighed with relief. “And now we have a surprise for you all.”

Eden sat up straighter; she loved surprises as long as they were good ones. Turning slightly in her seat, she studied the guests, and it was then she saw the Duke. Their gazes collided and the look they shared was brief but had her body prickling all over. Looking forward once more, she refused to glance his way again.

“I thought you said he was not coming?”

“Who?” Cam whispered back.

“The Duke.”

Cam shrugged. “He wasn’t but something obviously changed his mind. Perhaps there is a woman here he sees as his future duchess.”

Eden did not like the kick of jealousy she felt at her brother’s words.

“Imagine marrying such a man,” Essie said.

“You could do worse,” Cam added. “He has power and money, and owns several estates, and I believe is considered quite a catch.”

“And what of love and happiness?”

Cam made several scoffing noises at Essie’s comments. “There is no place in many marriages for such things, sister. Often it is merely a transaction between two families and nothing more.”

“How sad.”

“You will all marry for love.”

Cam, Eden, and Essie all looked at Dev in surprise.

“I will not watch any of you unhappy. I would rather you simply stayed at home for the remainder of your lives than live such a life.”

Eden could tell this was a serious matter for him because the muscles in his jaw were bunched.

“Not entirely practical, brother, yet a lovely sentiment,” Cam said. “However, these two could get us out of the poorhouse should they marry well. In fact one of them should wed the Duke, that would certainly see us right and perhaps diluting the Raven blood would remove this bloody curse that hangs over us.”

Eden didn’t react, outwardly appearing calm as she took in those seated nearby. “Very mercenary of you, Cam, to want us sold to the highest bidder.”

“Neither of you will wed the Duke,” Dev said. “I shudder to think what such a liaison will do to the senses of your progeny. We are also no longer in the poorhouse, strengthening my point that you will marry for love. Now be quiet, as our hostess is about to speak.”

“I have been reliably informed by a certain duke,” Lady Dalton said loudly.

Eden wondered how many dukes were in the room. Surely not many, in fact possibly only hers. He is not yours, Eden.

“There is only one,” Dev whispered, anticipating her question.

“That Miss Eden Sinclair, one of our newest debutantes, can sing and play the piano tolerably well.”

Eden sat up straighter. Surely the woman had not just singled her out?

“Please say this is not happening.” Eden could feel the color draining from her cheeks as Lady Dalton continued.

“Please offer Miss Eden Sinclair your encouragement for filling in on such short notice, and urge her to come and entertain us.”

Dear God!

“Would I be hanged for stabbing a duke, Dev?”

“Yes,” he gritted. “But I’ll beat him to a pulp for you.”

“He’s not a bad fellow, Dev, probably thinks he’s doing Eden a favor helping her launch into society.”

“I am not a ship, Cam!”

“Shall we say frigate, then?”

“Cam, you are not helping!” Dev snapped. “Now calm down, Eden. Just get up there and do what you do best.”

“I’m going to stab you as well,” Eden hissed at Cam.

“You’d have to catch me first, and we both know I’m quicker.”

“Give me your earplugs.” Dev held out his hand.

She was never really sure why, but Eden could not sing or play with them in, so she reluctantly pulled them out and slipped them to Dev, who put them in the pocket of his coat.

“How’s the noise?”

“My head is already starting to hurt,” Eden whispered. She wore earplugs to go about everyday life simply because her hearing was far more acute than that of a normal person. Of all the Sinclairs she had the worst gift, in her opinion. The others may dispute that, but not Eden. If she went without them into a room filled with noise and people she suffered terribly, and the eventual result was a severe headache.

“Come on, I’ll be your page turner.” Dev stood and held out his arm. He looked grim and the glare he shot the Duke suggested he would have words with the man when the time presented itself.

Eden rose from her seat and placed her fingers on her brother’s arm. She heard the murmurs and whispers as she and Dev walked to the piano. Some thought her presumptuous to be performing at her first social event, others were rustling their programs in boredom. She winced at a loud cough. One man whispered to another that she was a pretty filly.

This could be a disaster. What if she sat shocked and unmoving with no words coming from her mouth? At least one thing would come from this evening, and that was she now had reason to loathe the Duke, and that was far better than the other feelings he created inside her.

James inhaled slowly as Eden rose from her seat. Her dress was cream, with a sheer overdress of rose. It draped and fell around her lovely body, and to his mind she looked sinfully beautiful. The bodice was demure, yet not enough to please him, and left her neck and shoulders bare but for the smallest capped sleeves. The skirts fell in soft folds down her lovely body to stop inches above the ground, exposing a froth of lace beneath. James had thought her exquisite dressed in the clothes she wore in the country, but now she was breathtaking. Each sweet curve and line was exposed to every male present, and the ones he could see were certainly noticing the delectable Miss Eden Sinclair.

He hadn’t thought about that when he’d overheard Lady Dalton say one of her performers had pulled out. Offering Eden’s name had been instinctive. He’d never heard a voice like hers before, and wanted to do so again. As he watched Viscount Lindsay sit straighter in his seat when Eden stepped up to the piano, he realized he’d made a mistake. He’d singled her out, and now every man present knew who she was.

That should be a good thing, James, he reminded himself. Because once she was married, he would never be able to kiss her again. On this depressing thought he returned his attention to the performance that was about to begin.

Candles surrounded the small platform, casting a soft glow over the siblings. Dev stood to her right. His eyes lifted briefly and he found James, and that look told him all he needed to know. It seemed Lord Sinclair was not happy with him for singling his sister out. He stared back, not intimidated by a few dark looks. He’d cut his eye teeth on those from his father.

He watched as Eden glanced through the music before her. She winced as someone laughed loudly and he wondered if she was unwell. She then nodded to her brother and began playing, and he could think of nothing else.

James loved music, it was the only thing his father had forced him to do that he’d actually received pleasure from. Eden was brilliant, each note pitch perfect as her fingers flew over the piano keys. He dragged his eyes from her to look around the room. No one moved, indeed no one appeared to breathe as she sang. Hers was indeed the voice of an angel. When she ended the applause was loud and genuine.

“More!”

“More!”

He watched Eden briefly shut her eyes as the audience called for more. Her brother leaned closer, his stance protective, and James studied her face. Was she pale? He was sure she’d just flinched again. Could she be in some kind of pain?

They made a handsome sight, the two siblings. Devon was tall and broad, his black locks cropped short, dressed in a dark evening jacket, white shirt, and necktie. He was the perfect foil for his sister’s beauty.

James wondered again what drew him to her. Her beauty, yes, but many had that. It was the innocence she carried; untainted by society, she was open and honest and that was rare in his world. There was also her courage. To have done what she had, diving into the water to save him, had taken an act of incredible and selfless bravery, and he would never forget that.

Much too soon she drew the song to an end and the applause was equally as loud, however this time she did not play another. Rising, she sank into a very correct curtsey, then taking her brother’s arm she slowly returned to her seat. Both siblings avoided looking his way.

“Well!” Lady Dalton said. “I think after that performance everyone else will be sadly lacking, therefore refreshments are available for those who wish to partake, and then the dancing shall begin.”

James regained his feet.

“I want a word with you, Raven.”

He’d known it would not be long before a Sinclair approached him. The dark avenging eldest of the clan glared at James, and he wondered briefly what it would be like to have someone care about you as much as this man obviously did for his siblings.

“What appears to be the problem, Sinclair?”

“Never again single one of my sisters out the way you did tonight. They are new to society, and have no wish to be thrust to the forefront before they are ready.” The words were spoken softly, but the intent was there. Devonshire Sinclair was angry.

“Sinclair, your sisters are beautiful. They’ll be in the forefront without even trying.”

They both turned to watch Essex and Eden, who were being introduced by Lady Dalton to a group of people. The men looked extremely happy, the women did not.

“Be that as it may, it is not your place to do what you did. Eden is—she is different.”

“In what way?” James studied Devon. He looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“It matters not in what way, only that she does not like crowds or noise, and most especially has no wish to perform as she did tonight.”

“Society is not the place for her then, Sinclair, as it’s filled with both noise and crowds. Furthermore, she plays and sings better than anyone I know, and it would be a crime not to share that.” James was being honest, she did. The fact that he liked to watch her sing and play did not enter the conversation.

“What my sisters do is my concern alone. Never again take the liberties you did tonight.”

“I am a duke, Sinclair, don’t forget that fact.” James felt his temper rise at the man’s tone.

“And that is supposed to intimidate me? My sister and I saved your life, Raven, and history suggests so did several of my ancestors for yours, so I think it is safe to say I will probably never forget you until I draw my last breath.”

If he were a dog, James knew his hackles would be rising.

“Your title means very little to me, Raven, other than the fact that it’s probably because of it that my siblings and I are diff—”

Sinclair’s words stopped abruptly, and James had a feeling he thought he’d said too much. “Different?”

“It matters not, just don’t take liberties with my sister again. I hope we are clear, Raven.”

Oh, I’d like to take liberties with her.

Looking at the clenched jaw before him, James was pleased he’d managed to keep that thought in his head.

He understood Sinclair’s words completely, but that didn’t mean he liked them. People did not speak to him that way—in fact, only the Sinclairs appeared to believe they had that right.

“Was that a threat?”

“Take it as you wish, but considering you once said you are indebted to us, one would think you had every wish to please us.”

“I do owe your family a great deal, but that does not mean I will stand aside weakly and let you challenge me in such a way.” James controlled his anger. He’d learned long ago that losing his temper achieved nothing.

“Challenge,” Sinclair scoffed. “Me, a lowly baron, challenge a mighty duke.”

James was not used to being mocked either, unless, of course, he was near a Sinclair.

“What is going on between you and Cam?”

The change in subject was swift, as most of this family’s conversations were. Parry, thrust, and then repeat. James adjusted.

“That is between your brother and me.”

“Did you pay his debts? If so, I wish for a tally, and will see them repaid.”

“That is between your brother and me,” James said again.

“I have no wish to be indebted to you, Raven, or owe you gratitude.”

“It’s not a comfortable feeling, is it.”

“Bastard.”

“Now, now, we both know I cannot lay claim to such a title.” James found a smile. “A word of caution if I may, Sinclair.”

“What?” he snarled.

“If you spend the entire season fighting what you see as slights to your sisters, may I suggest you sharpen your swords and ensure your dueling pistol is loaded.”

“That was a poor attempt at humor, Raven.”

“Yet an accurate one,” James said. “Your sisters are intelligent and do not suffer fools. They will survive well in this nest of vipers if you let them.”

James withstood the look the man threw at him before stalking away. Shaking his head, he watched Devon join his sisters. They were a family of passions. They loved wholeheartedly, protected each other fiercely, and laughed freely, and if he could name the strongest emotion they often produced in him, other than frustration, it would be jealousy.

Chapter Thirteen

“Good evening, James.”

“Lilliana.” James acknowledged the woman coming toward him. His eyes settling briefly on the purple turban wrapped around her head, before he looked into her eyes. Cold and unfriendly.

Neither stopped, simply nodded and moved on, and he felt something heavy settle in his chest for what had once been between them, but he pushed it aside. Miss Lilliana Braithwaite was no longer his concern; his father had made sure of that.

“Miss Sinclair.” He bowed to Essex when he reached her side. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

“I am, thank you, Duke. It has been most enlightening.”

Her words were accompanied by a sweet smile, and James wondered why his heart did not thud a bit harder seeing it. Essex was definitely more even-tempered than Eden, and would likely not go out of her way to jab at him repeatedly with pointed verbal barbs whenever they met.

“If I may take this time to thank you, James.”

“For what, Essex?” He leaned closer as she had done, obviously wanting to keep her words unheard by anyone but them.

“For saving my brother.”

“I am unsure as to what you are speaking of, and to my knowledge the opposite is indeed true.”

“Yes of course, I understand you see Dev and Eden’s actions that way, but what I was speaking of was Cam. He is a different person for your interference, and it is this I wish to thank you for. None of his siblings had been able to reach him before the night you stepped in.”

James watched as she had a quick look around, and he guessed she was searching for her siblings. They constantly seemed to be checking on each other, he’d noticed.

“I have done very little for your brother, Essex. Cam is a good man, and merely lost his way. I simply helped redirect him.”

“Even so, please accept our gratitude. I must also add to that, Dev is now much happier and getting enough sleep, therefore we are not on the receiving end of his lectures.”

“I wish I were as lucky,” he drawled.

Her laugh was sweet.

“My eldest brother is the very best of men, James, but a trifle overbearing where we are concerned. Still, he also is grateful, yet would never mention that fact.”

“I noticed that also.”

“We have always been close, but especially more so since our parents’ deaths.”

“Your brother’s dedication to his family is to be commended, Essex. However, I would rather you not tell him I said that.”

James looked to where the eldest Sinclair stood. He was conversing with several men, but while doing so his eyes were also searching the room, coming to rest on Essex and then Cam. He frowned and mouthed something, but James could not see what from this distance, or indeed who it was to.

“My sister is most like him, and yet she has not learned his control yet.”

“Eden?” James queried as he looked for her.

“Yes. Unlike me, Eden is filled with passion and fire. The man who steps into her life will need to understand that. I fear if he tries to control her the results will be disastrous.”

James did not like the knowing look in Essex’s eyes as she studied him.

“Marriage is not something to be entered lightly,” James said when he could come up with nothing else. Suddenly his throat felt tight at the thought of Eden married.

“And yet a happy state if one gets it right.”

The silence that settled between them should not be comfortable after that statement, yet strangely was. James was almost reluctant to excuse himself from the only comfortable member of the Sinclair clan, but he wanted to find Eden.

“Please excuse me, Essex.” James bowed and left her side.

Looking over heads, he found Eden skirting the edges of the room alone. He intercepted her by taking a more direct route and meeting her head-on.

“Are you looking for someone, Eden? Perhaps I can help.”

He thought her eyes were narrowed in anger, but on closer inspection he saw the gray depths were filled with pain. Her face was pinched, lips in a thin line.

“No, I believe you have done quite enough for one evening, thank you. Please excuse me.”

Her words were polite, yet he knew had they been alone she would not have been so restrained.

“Eden, are you unwell?”

“No.”

She said the word softly before turning her back on him and walking away, leaving James standing there watching her.

She walked through guests, nodding and smiling, and then reached the doors that led outside. Her hand went to the handle; when it did not yield, she moved to the next one.

What the hell is she doing? James moved closer.

She looked first left and then right before pushing open the door and slipping through. Looking around, for once he could find no Sinclair nearby. He should ignore her, walk away and talk with one of the other young ladies, who would be polite and seek to flatter him—and he would be bored in seconds. Besides, someone had to stop her walking about outside. Anyone could be out there; in fact, she may be in danger even now. Moving to the same door, James opened it and stepped through.

Striding along the stone terrace he breathed deeply, enjoying the cool evening air after being closed in with so many perfumed bodies. Where was she? Walking to the edge he looked below and saw a flash of pink. What was she doing in the gardens alone? Had no one told her that young ladies did not leave social gatherings unescorted? She was not in Crunston Cliff now.

James ran down the steps and followed Eden into the gardens. Torchlight lit the shell path and he followed it to where he knew a fountain stood. The sound of his boots on the stone must have alerted her, yet she did not turn as he approached. Instead she stood facing the fountain looking at the cascading water.

“It was foolish of you to come out here alone, Eden.” Her shoulders stiffened. “Anyone could have seen you and you could have been compromised, in fact, being out here with me would not bode well for you if anyone chanced upon us.”

Still she didn’t speak and James felt the last moorings of his temper loosen. Bloody Sinclairs, he thought, stomping to where she stood. He was done with their insulting behavior.

In seconds he was behind her his hands reaching for her.

“I am a bloody duke, you little shrew, and as such I deserve your respect, therefore I demand you look at me when I am addressing you!” Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, he turned her. She stumbled. James caught her.

“Eden?”

She was in agony, her face white, teeth clenched, the sudden movement causing her more pain.

“Tell me how I can help you?”

“My head aches,” she whispered, clenching her eyes shut. “I need Dev.”

“Does Devon have some medicine for you? Is that why you need him?”

“No, he can take me home.”

He lifted her into his arms and walked to the closest seat, where he lowered her gently.

“Do not touch me.”

“I only want to help you, Eden, not ravage you.”

“Yet I have no wish for you to do so.”

James could hear her pain in the short clipped bursts of air she expelled. He moved to stand behind her, then placing his hands on her temples he began to massage them.

“Don’t—”

“Sssh, let me help you. Trust me just this once, Eden.”

“What are you doing?”

“These pins cannot be helping your headache.” James pulled them from her hair, placing each in his pocket before moving on to the next. “Good God, there are at least a dozen here, and half of those digging in to your scalp.”

“It takes a great deal of work to secure, and you really should not be—”

“Yes, I should.” James removed the last one, then teased the mass of curls free so it hung over the back of the seat like a river of dark silk.

“Someone could see us.”

Her moan was low and long as James pressed his fingers to her temples.

“We are hidden here, no one will see us, so relax and let me help you,” James soothed as his hands worked slowly over her head. “Slow breaths. That’s it, good girl.”

Around them the night sounds receded, and the gentle flow of the fountain soothed. Her hair was thick and soft beneath his fingers, and he fought the urge to sift them through it.

“It eases.”

He heard the surprise in her words.

“How did you learn to do that?”

“When I was young I used to suffer from headaches and the housekeeper often did this to me.”

“Thank you, I feel much better. However, had you not singled me out, I would not have been in this predicament.”

“You should be thanking me, ungrateful woman. I just ensured your season will be a success.”

Her sigh was soft. “I have no wish to be a success, I want to go home.”

“Surely not. Every young woman wants wealth, status, and a handsome husband, all of which are at your fingertips.”

“So my aunt tells me.”

“The prospect of marriage does not please you then?” James had no right to feel happy about that fact.

“I have never been good at being told what to do, and I believe that is a husband’s job.”

“And that is meant to surprise me? Your brother is not my favorite person, but he has my respect for the task of managing you all.”

“Yes, he has patience I have yet to cultivate. In fact, I sometimes wonder how he does it.”

“He loves you,” James said, knowing it was the truth. They may be a family that would send him to bedlam were he to spend too much time with them, but James knew that each of the Sinclairs would lay down his life for the other, especially the eldest.

“He is the very best of men,” she said, mirroring her sister’s earlier words, “and my life would have been vastly different were he not in it.”

“Yet you had parents.” James sat beside her, enjoying the solitude they had. For once they were just talking, not arguing, kissing, or saving lives. The seething mass of emotion that lay between them, for a few brief moments, seemed to have eased.

“Dev was the one who cared for me the most.”

James thought about that as he stared out at the night sky. With so many siblings he imagined it was not easy to find time with a parent, time to be cuddled or kissed. Not that he’d had either, but he understood not all families were like his.

“I really must get back, as Dev has been calling me.”

“Really? I heard nothing.”

She did not answer him, and he wondered about the communication abilities this family seemed to have. It was almost as if they knew what the others were thinking without words.

“You will not be able to go back into the party, Eden, your hair is down, and as much as I would like to be able to assist you, I cannot play lady’s maid.” James took one of her curls and ran it through his fingers. It felt wonderful against his skin.

“Then why did you take it down?”

“Because it was not aiding your headache.”

“I should thank you for that then.”

“Yes, you should.”

“Thank you.”

He laughed. “Come now, surely you can put a bit more into it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Again,” James said, enjoying himself.

“Thank you, most noble and kind sir.”

“Duke.”

“Thank you, most noble and kind duke.”

She looked at him, her eyes clearer, yet pain still lingered. He ran his eyes over the delicate arch of her brows, down the small, straight line of her nose, and came to a stop at the sweet bow of her upper lip.

“You really are beautiful.”

“That did not sound like a compliment.”

“Miss Eden Sinclair,” James said in his haughtiest tone. “Allow me to say your beauty eclipses all others.”

She giggled.

“I can see you have said such things before.”

“Often, but rarely have I meant them.”

“James—”

“Come.” James got to his feet, cutting off her words before she said something to irritate him. “I will escort you to my carriage and then I will go and tell your brother what has happened.”

“I do not want to inconvenience you any further, and now I can think clearly once again, I have decided I am still angry with you, especially as you are the reason my head hurts.”

“Be quiet, Eden. For tonight we will call a truce and tomorrow you can begin anew with a scathing attack on my perfidious actions this evening.”

“Oh, yes, well as to that—” She faced him.

He kissed her, just one gentle brush of his lips.

“Oh dear. I do wish you would not do that.”

“So do I, but when you are near I’m afraid it just happens,” James said honestly.

“Then we shall have to keep our distance, as we really do not like each other, and if we were caught—”

“The consequences would please neither of us,” he finished for her.

“Precisely,” she said, and James ignored the niggling voices inside his head that denied her words. He was surprised when she took the hand he held out to her.

“Where are we going? Surely if I do not return there will be questions?”

“You are not that important yet, madam.”

She let him lead her along paths, over cobbles, and soon they were at the front of the house. Walking with her down the row of carriages, he located his and lifted her inside and onto a seat.

“Now wait here and I shall return shortly, after I have located your brother.”

“He will be angry with you.”

“We have already conversed on the matter, and yes he was angry, but I am not easily intimidated, especially by a Sinclair.”

James pulled a blanket from beneath the seat and wrapped it around her. She rested her head and closed her eyes. Still pale, but at least her face was no longer tight with pain.

“I’m sorry if it was my actions that caused you pain, Eden, it was not my intention.”

“I know.”

He left her then, although he wanted to stay to ensure she was safe. In the morning his behavior would seem out of character and he would worry about that, but right now he had more important things to do. He found the eldest Sinclair prowling through the crowd. His face darkened as he saw James approach.

“I’m still angry with you, Raven, and should punch you in the nose, but right now I need to find Eden.”

“You could try,” James said, smiling. It would not do for the people around them to know the two men were passing anything other than pleasantries.

“She, Eden, does not like to be placed in situations she has no control over.”

“No one likes that, Sinclair, however it seems my actions have caused her pain and for that I apologize.” James watched a flicker of unease flash across Devon Sinclair’s face. “I found your sister outside, she said her head was sore and that she needed to locate you.”

“Where is she, I will go to her at once!” James held up his hand as Devon tried to brush by him.

“She is safe from harm in my carriage. Her headache has eased but she still needs to go home.”

“I will take her,” Devon said, stalking past James.

James followed a few feet behind, nodding his farewells to people as he went. Sinclair, however, ignored everyone, his intent to reach his sister his only goal. Once outside James caught up with him.

“I should have known when I did not find her. Eden always goes outside when her head is sore.”

“Does it happen often?”

“Not for some time, but tonight....” His words fell away. “It matters not.”

These people had more secrets than he, James thought, following Devon. He wondered which would be the easiest Sinclair to coerce them from. Because one thing James realized was that he wanted to know more about these people who were entwined in his and Samantha’s lives.

“I am all right, Dev, don’t fuss,” Eden said as her brother entered the carriage.

“I’m sorry, Eden. I should have given them to you as soon as you finished singing. You have had so few headaches over the last few years I had forgotten what noise does to you.”

“It’s not your fault, please, Dev. I should have remembered too. But my headache has gone now, and I just want to sleep.”

What were they talking about? James wondered, moving into the doorway. What had Devon not given his sister?

“I shall get the others and we will leave at once.”

“No, please just come home when they are ready. Aunt and Uncle left early as Aunt was feeling unwell, so they will be there by now, and the Duke will drop me off, then I will simply fall into bed and sleep the night away. You know what I’m like after a turn.”

The siblings were whispering to each other, so James moved closer.

“It is not right for you to be alone in this carriage with the duke, Eden. At least let me get Essie.”

“And ruin her night? No, I do not wish that. I will not be seen, and you know the Duke will cause me no harm. I shall simply slip inside the house quietly and go straight to my room.”

“All right, but we will follow as soon as I gather everyone together. I will have Essie check on you before she retires, and I will call upon you in the morning.”

James looked in the door as Devon placed a gentle kiss on his sister’s forehead. The gesture held both love and affection and James called himself every kind of fool for the jealousy he felt at their obvious bond. Stepping aside, he made room for Sinclair to climb out of the carriage, and was impaled with a hard stare.

“Do not speak in a loud voice and make sure to place her in the hands of her maid before you leave.”

“Of course,” James said immediately.

“She is fragile after one of her turns and—”

“I can see she is weakened, Devon, there is no need for this.”

“Yet you have never cared for anyone but yourself, Raven, therefore I reserve the right to tell you how to care for one of my own, as I have been doing since her birth.”

James did not show how much the words affected him. He more than anyone was aware of his solitary existence before Samantha entered his life.

“Dev, don’t be mean. The Duke has done nothing wrong, and in fact believed he was doing me a favor by suggesting I play.” Eden’s words were softly spoken yet both men heard them.

Devon exhaled loudly then stuck out his hand.

“Forgive me, Raven, I had no right to speak to you thus. My sister is right, please accept my apologies. I fear that I am overly protective—or so my family tell me—where they are concerned, and most especially with Eden.”

James took the hand, surprised at the apology.

“You people have more mood swings than changes of clothes.”

“We are volatile, Raven; some say that is the sign of a healthy mind.”

“I would like to meet the person who says that.”

Devon snorted. “Forgive me if my earlier words were insulting.”

“Pay it no mind, Sinclair; I am beginning to realize what having a family entails.”

Devonshire Sinclair gave him a rueful smile. “Yes, and in time your little sister will test you constantly as do mine.”

“I heard that.”

“As you were meant to, sister. Please let no one see you, James, as my sister’s reputation is at stake.”

“Of course.” James climbed into the carriage as Devon walked away. He took the seat opposite Eden and soon they were on their way.

“How does your head feel?”

“Better, thank you.” She had not opened her eyes. “And please allow me to thank you for whatever it is you have done for Cam.”

“You and Devon have a very strong bond, don’t you?” James ignored her words in favor of his own.

“He was the only one I felt safe with.”

Her words were whispered and James could see she was struggling to stay awake.

“Safe from what?”

“Him.”

“Who?”

She chose not to answer and James did not push her. Leaning back into the shadows as the carriage rolled through London toward their homes, he watched as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her lashes fluttered several times before finally succumbing. He could see only the tiny sleeves of her dress and the long white gloves; the rest of her was covered with a blanket.

He mulled over her words. What or who could possibly have threatened her, especially growing up in such a large family surrounded by loving parents and siblings? James could come up with nothing so he pushed the thought to the back of his head, like several other things that he would find out about this complex family.

There was something peaceful about sitting in a carriage with her, probably because she wasn’t attacking him. However even now she was not completely relaxed; her hands were clenched and a small frown marred her brow. She flinched as someone shouted outside the carriage window and he wondered how she had heard it in her sleep. He fought the impulse to take the seat next to her and pull her into his arms. They had declared a truce for the evening and James was sure that did not include him taking advantage of her while she slept. And of course there was the promise he had made to her brother to keep her safe. So he just sat and watched her, the gentle curve of her cheeks, the tumbled curls, and the small circle her mouth formed as she slept, until finally the carriage stopped outside the Wynburg residence. James didn’t bother to wake Eden, instead he lifted her into his arms and stepped from the carriage.

“Have Miss Eden’s maid summoned at once,” James told the Wynburg butler as the door opened.

“Your Grace, is the young miss unwell?”

“Lower you voice,” James whispered. Eden twitched but remained asleep. “Direct me to Miss Eden’s rooms.”

“Of course, please follow me, and shall I summon a doctor?”

“No, she just needs her maid and rest.”

Pulling her closer, James climbed the stairs. Eden turned her face into his chest but didn’t wake. She had the longest eyelashes; they fanned over her pale cheeks. Lifting his head, James directed himself to stop staring at her or he could miss a step.

“This way please, your Grace.” Pennyroll opened a door after they had traversed the length of the hallway.

“Dear Lord! What has happened?”

A maid hurried forward as James lowered Eden to the bed and then stepped back, taking one last lingering look.

“She suffered a headache tonight. I offered my carriage to bring her home; her family will follow shortly.”

Bobbing a curtsey, the maid looked at James expectantly.

“Right... I’ll—I’ll leave you to assist her.”

Nodding to the maid, James followed the butler back through the silent house, down the stairs and out to his carriage. Staring at the toes of his polished shoes, he tried to find the rational side of his nature. The cold unemotional side that would have felt nothing carrying a woman and hugging a small girl child. But you would never have done those things before, James reminded himself. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he realized that life as he knew it was changing, and the small kernel of warmth uncurling inside his chest told him that perhaps it was not a bad thing.

Chapter Fourteen

“My feet have blisters on blisters.” Eden sighed as she slumped into the chair beside her sister. “I fear I am about to fall flat on my face and start snoring right here in the Tittmore ballroom.”

“Well, you do insist on rising early to go riding, dear, therefore you have only yourself to blame for your tiredness.”

Life for the elder Sinclair siblings had become extremely busy now the season had started in earnest. Most days were spent paying morning calls or shopping. Driving or walking in the park, or entertaining Somer, Dorrie, and Warwick. Dev and Cam were busy, the former with his uncle learning things about business and increasing the family coffers.

“Are you not tired, Essie?” Eden looked at her sister, but could see nothing but a sweet smile.

“I am of course, but....”

“But?”

“I met a man, Eden.” The smile that accompanied the words was dazzling.

“And what is this man’s name?”

“Lord Laurent.”

“The Frenchman?”

Essie nodded.

“Are you blushing?” Eden leaned closer and saw the color filling her sister’s cheeks.

“Of course not. It is just a trifle stuffy in Lady Tittmore’s ballroom with so many people in attendance.”

“Trifle stuffy.” Eden rolled her eyes. “You sound as if you have been in society for years when you say words like that.”

“Don’t be snooty because you are out of sorts.”

“Am I? Out of sorts, I mean?”

Her sister continued to study the dancers.

“It appears that way.”

“What gave me away, because I have been trying very hard to be the perfect debutante.”

Essie nudged Eden gently. Unlike her, Essie did most things gently.

“Your smile is not wide and never reaches your eyes. You have yet to raise your voice, or for that matter deliver something devilishly cutting to one of your brothers that will make them snarl. Then there is the small matter of a large duke.”

“I told Cam he was beef-witted just this morning!”

“I noticed you did not mention the Duke?”

Eden waved her hand about, for no other reason than it looked dismissive.

“He is of no consequence.”

“Now who sounds like a society miss?”

“I have no wish to discuss him further. However, I wish to discuss a certain Frenchman who has garnered your interest.”

“Oh, Eden. He is kind and sweet-natured, and yes, handsome, there is also the small matter of his wonderful accent.”

Eden released her breath when Essie took the conversational lure she had dangled.

“Actually, I agree with you. The few times we have danced he seems very nice, but he is far too sweet-natured to be of interest to me.”

To her detriment, she liked aloof dukes, who occasionally betrayed their true nature by carrying a sleeping woman into her house.

“Many men are paying you attention, Eden. If not the Duke, then surely there is one who interests you?”

“Why do you keep mentioning the Duke?” Eden let her exasperation show.

“Because I have never seen you react with any man the way you do with him.”

Glaring at her siblings had never worked.

“I have no interest in any duke, and I have no wish to discuss the matter further.”

“I believe someone mentioned the word duke?”

Eden looked into the eyes of the Duke of Raven and prayed he had heard nothing more than his title spill from her lips.

“James, how wonderful to see you,” Essie said with a great deal of enthusiasm, which hopefully hid the color flaming Eden’s cheeks.

Eden had not seen him since the musical evening, which considering what had transpired that night, was a very good thing. Still, she had thought of him constantly.

His evening jacket was black, and his waistcoat the same with a thin silver stripe, necktie perfectly tied with a small gold pin through the folds. Lord, he was a good-looking man.

“Miss Sinclair, may I have this dance?”

Lord Laurent, the handsome fair-haired Frenchman, appeared beside James, and Essie got to her feet so quickly she nearly tumbled into the man.

“I should love to dance, my lord.”

“Will you dance with me also, Eden?”

She looked at the arm James held out to her, and thought seriously about refusing, but instead found herself getting to her feet.

Of course it was a waltz, Eden thought as James placed a hand on her back and took her fingers in his. It seemed her theory that time and distance would lessen the impact this man had on her was false.

“Is all well with Samantha, James? The twins ask after her constantly.”

She had wanted to ask Cam where James was, yet did not want to sound like she cared. Now, however, she had the perfect opportunity to find out why he had not attended any social gatherings for two weeks.

“Did you miss me, Eden?”

“Absolutely not. Samantha, however, I missed dearly.”

Eden thought it wrong a man could be so ridiculously handsome when he did something as simple as smile.

“I must thank you for carrying me from the carriage the night of the musical. When I get a headache I tend to fall into a deep sleep.”

“Do you know what brings on the headaches?”

He led her around other couples, and she followed each step. Eden had partnered many men since entering society, yet James was by far the most natural. He had an elegance that suggested he, like she, loved music.

“I have no idea,” she said, unable to tell him the truth. She could never tell anyone that, as the results would be dire.

“As to your question regarding Samantha, I have been a nurse the past few weeks. My sister has been unwell, but is nearly back to full health.”

“Oh dear, I hope it is nothing too serious?”

“She has had a fever and sore throat, but seems improved today, hence my appearance here.”

“And as you have yet to hire a companion, you and your staff must have been rushed off your feet, James. You should have sent word, my sister and I would have nursed Samantha.”

“I am more than capable of nursing my sister, thank you, Eden.”

“I have no doubts, James, but we also understand how tiring that can be, having three small siblings in our family,” Eden said.

His sigh came from the soles of his large feet.

“In truth there were times I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Samantha clung to me, hot and sweaty with fever; she would not let me leave her side.”

“How wonderful that she turned to you, James, and not away.”

His smile confirmed her words.

“Yes, it was a wonderful thing. But I must admit the fear that she would not get well was not something I would care to live through again.”

But you will, Eden thought silently. Again and again.

“I spoon-fed her fluid; washed her,” he added, “and she treated me as a pillow and lay spent in my arms for hours while I read to her. I would not trade one minute for all the gold in the world,” he added softly.

Eden had wanted to distance herself from this man, yet even as she thought it he somehow pulled her closer. The changes in him were weakening her resolve. He seemed so much more real to her now. The harsh, cold man she’d pulled from that water was being erased.

“The bond my sister and I share grows stronger every day, and I believe she has all the burgeoning traits of a minx who will in time twist her big brother in circles as I attempt to curtail her high spirits.”

“And are you like Dev, who can move through each day with little sleep, or like me, and turn into a virago?”

“I learned to exist on little sleep in the army.”

“Of course.” Eden remembered Dev telling her about James and how he led his troops.

“Can I ask if there has been any further news on who was responsible for the attempt on your life?” She had to ask, as that too had been plaguing her, worry that whoever had tried would soon try once again, and there would not be a Sinclair handy to save him.

“Nothing so far, and before you ask, yes I am being careful.”

“Excellent. One can only hope that whoever is responsible has died, or is suffering from a wasting disease that renders him incapable of speech and movement.”

His laugh was loud enough to startle the couple beside them.

James had missed her, there was no getting around that fact. Actually, he’d strangely missed all the Sinclairs, although that knowledge would have to be pulled from him with a horse and plough, but Eden the most. They made him feel alive, and had shown him what family life could be if people actually cared for each other.

He’d hated the bite of jealousy he had felt when Cam had informed him earlier today that his sisters were proving a success in society. That each danced constantly and had several admirers.

Coming tonight had been something he’d had to do or go mad. It was getting harder and harder to ignore this need inside him for Eden. He’d sought her out instantly upon his arrival. Dressed in ivory silk, it was a simple gown, unadorned by frills and bows that caressed her body and rippled as she walked. He’d dreamt of her, thought of her when he had a moment to think, and tried to rationalize his need for her. Still he had no answers. He either had to distance himself from her, or hope this, whatever this was, eased given time.

Looking down, he noted the small pink shell of her ear. A tendril of hair lifted as they turned and he saw something inside. Some sort of obstruction.

“Do they stop your headaches?”

“Pardon?” She looked startled by his words.

“What you have in your ear, does it stop your head from hurting?”

She lowered her lashes and James realized she was uncomfortable with his questions.

“Is Samantha fully recovered?”

“Almost, and you did not answer my question.”

“Question?” She was being deliberately vague, and if there was one thing he knew about this woman, it was that she never forgot anything, and had never been vague a day in her life.

The music finished just as he was about to question her further.

“Thank you, if you will take me back to Essie, please, James.”

“Of course.”

More questions with no answers, James thought. She did not look his way as he led her to where her sister stood, now surrounded by both ladies and gentlemen.

“Miss Eden, come and lend my argument some weight. Mr. Johnson has vowed that a Gunther’s lemon ice surpasses a strawberry one.”

Idiots! James thought, scowling as Eden swept the small party a wide smile. Each of the men stood a little straighter, one ran his eyes over her lovely breasts, and he could feel the heat of anger slowly flushing his body. When had he last experienced jealousy? Several weeks ago when he had seen men looking at her at the musical. Hell, he was in trouble.

“Oh, an orange ice surely surpasses them all,” Eden said, joining the inane conversation.

“Yes, of course you are correct, Miss Eden. How can we have forgotten orange!”

“Excuse me,” James said, offering the group a bow before leaving. He did so before he said or did something that would raise the eyebrows of society. Dukes did not fight in public, nor did they throw women over their shoulders. Making his way through some of the guests, he headed for the doors that would take him to his carriage.

He needed a drink and male companionship, so he made for his club. After giving orders to his driver, he sat back in his carriage. Having been inside with his sister for the last few days, he had not caught up on the latest news, therefore he would have a nightcap and there would be someone at his club willing to fill him in on what had been happening.

James wasn’t a gossip, but he had several investments that he kept abreast of, and often what he needed to know was not to be found in the newspapers.

“I will not be overlong, Jonah,” he said to his driver after climbing from his carriage a short while later.

He found a group of men he knew gathered around the fire. Signaling for a brandy, he joined their ranks.

“I have just placed a bet that the younger will wed before the elder, especially now that the Earl is putting some blunt behind them. Makes the package all the tastier if you ask me.”

“Raven would know,” Lord Percival said, looking at James as he joined the group.

“Know what?” James said, hoping he had misunderstood the conversation, but the unease inside him suggested he had not.

“There are bets being placed as to which of the two beautiful Sinclair sisters will wed first. Personally, my money’s on the younger one; the body of a siren and sweet-tempered as well. What more could a man ask for?”

James choked on his brandy and accepted the thump on the back by the man to his right. He wasn’t sure which comment infuriated him more, that Eden had the body of a siren, which of course she did but no one but he was allowed to notice that fact, or that she was sweet-tempered. Eden? Good lord, the woman was a virago when riled.

“As the Sinclair family are friends to both my sister and me, it would not be polite of me to comment further.”

Silence greeted these words. James smiled into his brandy goblet. He had probably shocked them, using words like friends and then informing them that he had a sister. Most people had believed him incapable of emotion or involvement. The cold calculating Duke was what they called him. Yet James was no longer sure the title fitted him, and he wanted people to know he had a sister. He loved Samantha and would protect her with his last breath; she belonged to him now. His to cherish, and he would do so to the best of his ability.

“Sister? We had no idea you had a sister, Raven.”

“She is six, Percival, and lives with me here in London.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure your sister is a gem, Raven,” Viscount Bitterly boomed. “But about the sisters, man. Surely you can give us the inside running. Is the youngest worth pursuing? She’d be bloody comfortable in my bed, but what about as a mother to my children?”

James felt rage travelling through his body with alarming speed.

“Tupping her will be a pleasure,” someone else said.

“Wynburg’s money will come in handy too. Not to mention a man of his position and power at your back.”

He listened as they talked about Essie and Eden as if they were nothing more than empty-headed vessels, deserving of no respect. God, had he ever been like that?

“A word of warning,” he managed to get out calmly. His voice was not loud, but carried enough that he had everyone’s attention. “A disparaging or insulting word against the Sinclair family I will take as an insult to me. Therefore, I suggest you think carefully before you speak in my company again.”

Disgusted with their comments and their company, James stormed from the building. The foul mood he had arrived in was now significantly darker.

“God’s blood, was it too much to ask for a drink and idle conversation,” he muttered. Crossing the street, he then started down it, to where his carriage awaited.

“Your Grace, please, come quick, a man is hurt over here!”

Spinning on his heel, James looked to where a man stood waving madly at him from the entry to some stables.

“Who is injured?” James said, not moving.

“‘Tis a man, your Grace!”

“We’ve established it’s a man, yet I am asking you who he is.”

“He is injured and needs your help, your Grace! Please come quickly.”

James’s body tensed as the man moved toward him. Bracing his legs, he waited.

“How do you know I am a duke?”

“I know who you are.”

James watched the man’s expression change from anxious to cunning. He knew the game was up and that James was no fool to follow him down the lane where he could be dragged into an empty stable. He just had time to raise his fists as he saw another coming at him from the right. His carriage was still some distance away and Jonah was probably sleeping. He yelled anyway but had little hope of waking his driver. The man slept deeply.

“Get him before he runs!”

Run? James was insulted, he had never run from a fight in his life. He took the full impact of the man as he ran at him, fists flailing, legs pumping. Grunting, he swung his arm and heard a satisfying thunk as it connected with a jaw. The other was closer now and the few seconds it took him to look his way was enough to earn him a fist to the chin. His head spun, eyes temporarily closed. Shaking his head to clear it, he then started fighting with everything he had. Two against one was never good odds but he’d had worse.

“May I offer my assistance, Raven?”

James grunted as the Frenchman Lord Laurent joined the fray. The man could fight, not the prissy boxing type, but brawling just like he could. Swinging his leg in an arc he caught one of them in the thigh and the man hit the ground with a thud. The other followed seconds later courtesy of Lord Laurent. James watched the men groggily regain their feet and run off into the shadows; too tired to follow, James braced his hands on his knees and sucked in deep lungfuls of smoke-laden London air. When his breathing had calmed he rose and looked at the Frenchman.

“I am unsure what has you here at such an opportune moment, but thank you, Laurent.”

“Think nothing of it,” the man said. “Always said Englishmen could not fight worth a damn, and I have just confirmed it.”

“I hope you are not including me in that statement?”

“No indeed,” Lord Laurent took the hand James held out to him. “You fight like a Frenchman.”

James looked around them. “I think it best we leave here. If you have no transport, Laurent, please allow me to take you home.”

“I would be most grateful for a lift to the Grillion’s Hotel in Albemarle Street,” Lord Laurent said, wiping the blood from his lips with a white square of linen.

It only took a matter of minutes and they arrived at his carriage.

“The Grillion, Jonah,” James told his driver.

For long minutes the only sound in the carriage as it rolled through the streets was harsh breathing. James studied the Frenchman who had come to his aid. Not as tall as he, the man was also of a lighter build, and yet he had handled himself well.

“Thank you.”

“I did not arrive for the first punch, Raven, and yet it seemed to me those men wanted more than just your purse.”

Looking into the steady gaze of the man across from him, James wondered how much to tell him. Surely the fact that his nose was bloodied on James’s behalf suggested he was someone he could trust. Yet trust was not something James had in plentiful supply, having been betrayed more than once in his life. Still, perhaps it was time to try once more.

“That was the second attempt on my life in the past month, Laurent, and I fear I am no closer to finding who is so intent on sending me to my maker.”

“My name is Louis. I would be honored if you would use it.”

Louis, Lord Laurent, James thought, fighting a smile.

“When you hear my middle name is Lyon, you will sympathize with me and understand that my mother was fond of alliteration.”

This time he could do little to hold back his snort. “My name is James, Louis.”

“So who is on the list of suspects, James?”

Releasing a breath, James looked out the carriage window. Only the faint light from the gas lamps lit the streets, leaving eerie shadows and crevices for some of the more nefarious members of society to frequent.

“I have an heir, but he is off travelling the world and enjoying himself. There are other family members, but none who would gain by my death. Business interests perhaps? But I cannot think of any who would wish me dead. There must be others, men I have unwittingly insulted or—”

“Even I, who have not been in London over long, have heard of your chilly exterior and rapier-sharp tongue,” Louis drawled.

“I was exactly as you say.” James shrugged.

“Was? May I ask after the change in your manner, James? Although on such a short acquaintance I understand if the question is too personal.”

It probably was too personal and James would usually have bristled and delivered a sharp set down at such a question. But he was different now, for better or worse, and he did seem to feel emotions that previously had been a stranger to him. He also knew the sources of these changes, yet was only willing to supply one of them.

“My sister.”

“I have heard they are wonderful, yet exasperating creatures, sisters.” Louis smiled then winced as the cut on his lip gave a vicious tug.

“Do you have any siblings, Louis?”

The sadness that passed over the Frenchman’s face made James wish he had not asked the question.

“Alas, I have no family alive, James.”

He did not ask, but wondered if like many, Louis had lost family during the French revolution.

“Do you fence, Louis?” James said as the carriage stopped before the Grillion.

“Oui, James. I am a Frenchman. Therefore, I am superior to you, the staid Englishman.”

James laughed at the arrogance.

“I would be happy to set you on your backside a time or two,” Louis added.

“Perhaps tomorrow afternoon then?”

“Excellent. Shall we say Angelo’s at 2:00 p.m.?”

“I shall look forward to it,” James said, “and thank you once again.”

“My pleasure, and if I may be bold, James. I would not advise you to go anywhere unaccompanied until this matter is settled.”

James shook the hand offered. “Thank you, yes I shall show caution.”

He watched Louis leave with a last raise of his hand, and then sat back as Jonah headed the horses for home. He had to find out who wanted him dead. Before Samantha, he would not have cared; life to James had never held much meaning, but now he had a sister who needed him and a woman he wanted more with every dawning day. Not that he would ever follow through with that.

Chapter Fifteen

“Shall we walk, Eden, as it is not too far?”

“Yes, Somer, both you and Dorrie should gather your outer clothing and I will call Essie and we will be off at once.”

The Sinclair sisters stepped out into a beautiful sunny day minutes later. They planned to walk to the Duke of Raven’s house to pay a call on Samantha. Eden had told the twins about the little girl’s illness over breakfast that morning, and they had been insistent upon visiting. Eden had sent word, and the reply was in Samantha’s handwriting and stated that she would love to see them.

Essie carried the small posy of flowers they had made for Samantha.

“I am getting used to the noise and bustle and even beginning to like it here, Somer,” Dorrie said, skipping beside her twin.

Eden smiled at Essie over the heads of her sisters. It was good they were beginning to like it here. She knew much of her siblings’ happiness was because of their aunt and uncle and the love they so obviously lavished on their nieces and nephews.

“Which house is it, Eden?”

“The big one there,” Eden pointed to a large gray building.

“It’s even bigger than our uncle’s,” Dorrie whispered in awe.

A tall black fence ran along the front of the property. The sisters walked through the gates and looked up at the somber stone facade.

“Come along,” Eden said, urging the small party toward the front doors. Essie knocked and they stepped back to wait.

“We are the Sinclair sisters, come to visit with Lady Samantha,” Dorrie said when the door opened.

The butler did not appear surprised at being addressed by a young girl, and stepped to one side to allow them to enter.

Eden glimpsed a large staircase, dark walls and tiled floors, and then they entered a small parlor.

“If you will please wait in here, I will see if Lady Samantha is receiving this morning.”

“She is receiving, because we sent her a note and she replied,” Somer said.

“Well then, if you will just wait here, I shall tell her you have called.”

Dreary and uninviting were the best words to describe the room. Dark brown brocade hung at the windows and the walls were paneled halfway with dark wood and the rest papered in deep burgundy. The furnishings were, if she was being flattering, ugly, and no one made a move to sit, instead walking toward the window where the light provided some relief in the drab room.

“It is not a very welcoming room.”

“Sssh, Somer, it would not do for someone to hear you,” Essie whispered.

“But don’t you think Somer’s right though, Essie?” Dorrie added. “The room is unwelcoming. Not even a small vase sits upon a table; a few flowers would surely help with the gloom.”

The twins’ thoughts mirrored Eden’s but she did not comment further. Surely living in such a depressing house cannot be healthy for the spirits? Eden wondered how James had coped living in such a place as a child.

“Indeed you are both correct, it is a very unpleasant room, yet it is not for us to comment on how others live. Now let us remove our things so we are ready to visit with Samantha,” Eden said.

When the butler opened the door the Sinclair sisters were more than happy to follow him. They walked up the wide curved staircase. Hunting scenes hung from the walls, mingled with ancestors whose eyes glared down upon them. Eden squeezed the little hand that slipped into hers, offering reassurance. The butler led them down hallways and up more stairs until the sisters had completely lost their bearings. Finally they stopped before a door. Opening it, he ushered them inside and into an explosion of light and color.

“Oh my,” the twins whispered.

Eden and her sisters stood just inside the door and stared. Light from the large windows touched the buttercup-colored walls, and the room appeared to glow. Chairs and sofas covered in bright colors with large squishy pillows dotted the room, and silks and pictures hung from the walls. Shelves spilled with books and toys, and a huge vase filled with bright blooms sat on a cabinet.

“Dorrie, Somer!”

This squeal came from the floor before the fire. Eden watched as Samantha climbed to her feet and hurried toward them. She could see dark circles beneath the girl’s eyes and her skin was pale, however the wide smile on her lips was enough to dispel her fear that Samantha was not recovering. Dressed in pale blue, her hair tied in a large, floppy matching satin bow, she looked as every young girl should.

“Hello, Eden, do you like my room?”

“Indeed I do, Samantha, and who could not, it is surely the most beautiful room I have ever been in.”

Samantha seemed delighted with the compliment and was more than happy to accept Eden and Essie’s hugs and kisses.

“Your dress too is lovely, Samantha.”

“It is one of the dresses you chose, and James and I decorated the room.”

Eden swallowed the lump in her throat at the prospect of James and Samantha together decorating the room. It seemed the bond between the siblings had indeed strengthened.

Samantha loved her flowers, and soon the little girls were sitting before a large dollhouse, playing as if they had been friends for many years.

Essie and Eden sat before the windows in two comfortable chairs, more than happy to let the girls play until they tired.

“Did you enjoy last night, Eden?”

“Of course.”

“Liar.”

Eden puffed out a breath. “I am not lying to you. I enjoyed parts of last night, it is just....” Eden could not find the words to express what she felt.

“The men seem shallow when compared with the men of our family and the women are little better,” Essie finished in a dry voice. “Lord Laurent is excluded from that statement, of course.”

Her sister was falling in love, she realized.

“Is he to stay here in England, Essie?”

“Yes, he has nothing to go back to, and is looking to purchase a house here in England.”

“How sad that he has no family.”

“I have not questioned him on the subject as it is obviously a painful one for him,” Essie said.

Eden grabbed her sister’s hands. “I pray it works out for you, Essie.”

“It will,” she smiled. “Will you talk about your feelings for the Duke with me now? Last night you dismissed the subject when I broached it.”

“There is nothing to discuss, Essie. We are not suited, and I would never be the wife he wished for.”

“Believe that if you wish, and I shall say no more.”

“There is no more to say,” Eden said in a firm voice. When had she betrayed her interest in the Duke?

“I found Miss Bartrum’s gown far too excessive for one so young, and those plumes nearly took poor Mr. Hadleigh’s eyes out when they danced.”

Eden laughed as her sister intended, glad to change the subject. Taking out one of her earplugs, she rubbed her ear. They sometimes began to hurt after a while if she pushed them in too far. Listening to the hum of voices in various areas of the house, she sorted through each. The rattle of plates, the bang of pots was obviously from the kitchens. She heard James’s voice and then another.

“Cam is here.”

“Are you sure?” Essie questioned, looking around as if he stood behind them.

“Yes,” Eden said, climbing to her feet. “Wait here.” She waved her sister back. “We shall finally see what he and the Duke are up to.”

“Do not antagonize him.”

She lifted a hand at her sister’s words and left the room. Following Cam’s voice, Eden soon stood before another door. Pushing her earplug back in, she tapped before entering.

Unlike the rest of the house, this was a room worthy of spending time. The ceiling was high, with the farthest wall holding floor-to-ceiling windows that, like Samantha’s room, made it seem as if she were stepping into the sunlight. Books lined two walls, high enough that a ladder would be needed to reach the top ones. The furnishings were of rich deep reds and blues with woven patterned rugs scattering the polished wooden floors. It was alive with a feast of color and light, and Eden knew that this was the room James spent all his time in.

“This one is extraordinary, and seems to be a map of an island somewhere in the Caribbean, and this one—”

Both heads swiveled as Eden shut the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I believe that was going to be my question, brother dear.” Eden looked from Cam to the Duke and back again. They were bent over a large desk upon which was spread a big piece of parchment. Both were in shirtsleeves and waistcoats. James smiled, Cam scowled.

“I asked first.”

“Oh please, like a Sinclair has ever cared who asks first. It’s who gets the answer first that matters,” Eden scoffed. “Besides, we are intrigued as to what it is you do here with the Duke for hours.”

James folded his arms and leaned back against the desk. He loved watching Eden when she was sparring with her siblings; it was a game all parties seemed to relish, no matter the outcome or the original topic, as usually they covered many over the course of the debate.

She looked like a sweet piece of confectionary today waiting to be devoured, dressed in pale lemon muslin with blond lace trim. Her hair was simply styled and her beautiful face alive. He wanted to lay her upon his desk and ravish her.

“I am to be cursed with you even here,” Cam growled. “Christ, am I allowed no peace!”

“Do not curse in your sister’s presence, Cam.” James felt he needed to say something.

“Peace!” Eden screeched, ignoring him and forcing both men to wince. “Peace is it, you insufferable ingrate. You, who do not live with the children, crave peace. Oh and I was to know you were here, was I? We came to visit with Samantha, not follow you, you self-important puffed-up—”

“Now, children,” James chided softly, knowing it would annoy the hell out of them. Smiling, he wondered when he had begun to understand the rules to their games.

“Oh Lord, Eden. I’m so sorry, I was supposed to tell you she had been sick,” Cam said, anger fleeing as quickly as it had come.

“It is all right, brother, the Duke told us last night and Dorrie and Somer were insistent upon seeing Samantha. Had they found out any earlier they would more than likely have caught whatever was ailing her.”

From rage to empathy in seconds, James thought, shaking his head. It was exhausting just watching them. He could only imagine how tiring it would be to live with the Sinclairs.

Cam was now hugging his sister tight and kissing her cheek. They were a very demonstrative lot, always touching and kissing each other. James’s skin tingled just at the thought of all that close contact with another person. Close contact with Eden however, now that was a different matter entirely.

“Good morning, Eden.”

“Oh, forgive me, James,” Eden said, dropping into a curtsey. “Good morning to you.”

“Think nothing of it. I can see how important it is to be on your guard when faced with a Sinclair sibling.”

“What happened to your face?”

James braced himself as she moved closer, one hand lifted to touch his jaw and then at the last minute, almost as if she realized what she was about to do, it fell to her side and she retreated.

“‘Tis nothing, just an accident.”

“That was caused by a fist, James, and not nothing. I know what they look like, as my brothers have upon occasion come home with just such a mark.”

“Some men tried to jump him outside his club.”

Glaring at Cam, James raised his hand as Eden began to speak.

“I am unharmed and a friend came to my aid,” James said, surprised at how comfortable he felt saying the word friend.

“You cannot go about London unescorted, James, surely you see that? Someone is trying to dispatch you to the afterlife and you seem hell-bent on allowing it to happen!” Eden snapped.

James sent Cam a look as if to say “help,” however the younger man just raised his hands and smiled.

“While I do not make a habit of agreeing with any member of my family and most especially not Eden,” Cam said, rolling his eyes as Eden poked out her tongue. “In this I fear she is correct. It was folly to gad about unprotected. Perhaps in future may I suggest you take one of your protectors with you.”

“Dukes do not gad anywhere, Sinclair,” James said, “and I do not need a protector.”

“Cam is right, you must take more care, James.”

“I need a drink,” James growled, his earlier good mood having fled with the start of the discussion about his death. The thump he had taken to the side of the head last night had been throbbing steadily all morning, and now Eden’s haranguing had made it worse. Stalking to the table, James reached for the decanter. Pulling out the stopper and tipped a large amount into a glass.

“You took more than a punch to your jaw, didn’t you?” Eden said, as she and Cam followed him. “Your movements would suggest your ribs are also sore.”

“Don’t fuss, Eden, I am well.”

Cam laughed. “You sounded just like Dev and me then.”

James grunted something no one but he understood, and then raised his glass to his lips.

“What is it, Cam?”

James watched as Cam sniffed loudly at his sister’s query.

“Don’t drink that!”

James was so surprised at the roared demand he lowered the glass instantly.

“Get Essie!” Cam said, taking the glass from his hands.

“What’s happening?” James said as Eden picked up her skirts and ran from the room. “What the hell is going on, Cam?” he demanded.

“If you will wait for an explanation until my sisters arrive, James, I wish to be sure I have my facts right.”

Eden’s brother had lost all trace of his usual jovial demeanor; his eyes were narrowed as he stared at the glass he still held in his hand.

Several tense minutes later he heard the thud of feet approaching at a run.

“What is it, Cam?” Essie hurried into the room with Eden on her heels.

“This drink contains poison, Ess, but I need you to confirm it.”

“What!” James roared. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Cam said softly, and that one word told James that whatever was in that glass was intended to kill him. He watched Essex Sinclair take the glass in her hands and dip her handkerchief in the liquid. She then allowed one drop to fall on the tip of her finger, which she rubbed on her teeth.

“No! Surely it will harm you?” James tried to stop the woman.

Eden placed a hand on his arm. “It will not harm her, James. Such a small amount will have no impact on Essie, but she will determine what the poison is.”

James stood silently at Eden’s side, watching the Sinclairs. How had Cam known there was poison in his glass, and how did Essex know from one drop what that poison was?

“Belladonna.”

“Are you sure?” James could not take it in. How had someone entered his house and poisoned his brandy?

“We will take the decanter and glass, James, and dispose of them,” Cam said, nodding to Essie to follow him. “We shall return shortly to discuss what should be done next.”

As Eden prepared to follow her siblings he gripped her arm, halting her.

“I think not,” James said, hauling her back to his side.

“I-I must return to our sisters.”

“They will be well cared for with Jane, Samantha’s maid, watching over them.”

“I must go to Cam and Essex, they may need my help.”

James could feel the tension inside her.

“A glass and a decanter will not tax their strength, Eden, and I have a few questions for you, which you will answer.”

James pulled her with him deeper into the room, until they stood before the windows.

“It is a wonderful room, James. H-have you read all these books?” Eden was looking around, determined to distract him. “I love reading—in fact, if I may I will have a look around—”

“Be quiet, Eden.”

She did, biting her lip. Her eyes shot to the door, hoping no doubt for her siblings to return and save her. Something clenched in his chest as he looked at the top of her head and suddenly all the questions he had wanted to ask were replaced with a desperate need to touch her. He took hold of a curl, rolling the satin between his fingers.

“Look at me,” James tugged the curl. She lifted her head and he saw the longing that he knew she would read in his eyes too. One more tug and he had her in his arms, his lips upon hers, her body pressed to his. This kiss was fierce, a clash of mouths and teeth as they fought for more. He swallowed the soft noises she made and pulled her closer; it wasn’t enough. He wanted her skin in his hand and the layers of clothing between them removed.

“Eden, God, what you do to me.” He shuddered as he dragged his lips from hers to run them down her neck.

She smelled like the most alluring flower in any garden, arousing him further. Sliding one hand up her waist he stroked her ribs then cupped her breast, dipping his finger inside her bodice and tracing the edge.

“Oh, James.”

Her throaty cry nearly undid him completely. He grabbed a handful of her skirts, but as he lifted them, the one small rational thought he still retained told him to stop or be prepared for the consequences when her siblings returned. Claiming her lips in one last savage kiss, he then eased back. Stepping away from her, he fought for composure.

“James.”

God, it was only one word, but the throaty purr nearly had him reaching for her again. Instead he started asking questions.

“How did your brother know there was poison in my glass?” Still in the grip of a fierce lust for the woman before him, the words came out harsher than he intended.

“Pardon?” She blinked.

“Your brother, how did he know there was poison in my glass unless it was he who put it there?”

“No!” She gasped, stumbling back a step. “Cam would never hurt you, or anyone, surely you cannot believe otherwise.”

He didn’t, actually. The thought had never entered his head before today, yet now he had said the words he would use them to get answers to the questions that niggled at him about the Sinclair family. They were a closemouthed lot and would protect each other to the death. James needed some leverage to get the answers he sought and it seemed he had found it.

“Essie also knew it was poison after one taste, surely that is too much of a coincidence?”

“No, we—my family, we protect you, have protected you?” She was shaking her head and stumbling toward the door.

It hurt his chest to see the fear replacing passion in her eyes, but he could not back down now. He and his sister were close with this family, no matter how he had tried to deny it. Therefore, he had to know Samantha was safe in their company.

“I-I must go, my brother is calling me.”

“I hear nothing, Eden.”

She shot a look at the door. “Please, I beg of you do not question me further.”

“It was definitely belladonna, James,” Essie said, entering the room with her brother on her heels.

“Eden?” Cam questioned as he noticed his sister’s distress. “Why is she upset, Raven?”

James wanted to be the one to comfort her. Running a hand through his hair, he bit back a frustrated sigh. He could not afford to back down now if he wanted answers, but seeing her distress was like a knife to the chest.

“How did you know there was poison in my glass, Cam?”

James watched the three Sinclair siblings grow still, each eyeing him warily. Essex moved to Cam’s other side, and he lifted his arm and pulled her close. It was a telling gesture that told James they felt threatened by his questions and were seeking strength in each other.

“Are you accusing me of something, Raven?”

Cam seemed to grow several inches before James’s eyes, and looked more like his elder brother with every second that passed—right down to the furious glint in his green eyes.

“You had no way of knowing what was in that glass, Cam, unless you had either tasted it or put it there. The same must be said of Essex, for that matter.”

“You will not accuse my sister!”

Lifting his hands in a gesture meant to reassure as Cam roared at him, James shrugged. He hated questioning them like this because he knew instinctively they were innocent; had they not saved his life already several times? Yet he also knew there was something strange going on, and he wanted to know what. He looked at Eden, but she would not meet his eyes. Instead she huddled close to her brother.

“Then tell me how you both knew what was in that glass?”

The Sinclairs looked at each other for several seconds and then as if by silent vote Cam spoke.

“We must first speak with Devon before answering your questions. Therefore, I would ask that you wait until this evening for your answers.”

Nodding, James realized it would be unfair of him to pursue the matter. Devon was the eldest and therefore their leader, if they needed his consent before speaking then he would wait, but the suspense would near kill him. There was little doubt that what he was to learn was something of great importance to this family.

“I suggest we then adjourn to the nursery to take tea with our sisters.”

They did not refuse him as he had thought they would, instead it was a solemn group that trooped up to the nursery, yet when the door opened everyone was all smiles. Soon cakes were devoured by James and the little girls; the others, including Cam, who could devour an entire cake in one sitting, merely nibbled theirs.

Eden took great pains to hide her distress from her sisters. It was a testament to how closely he watched her that he could see the tension in her body. Her gestures had lost their elegance and her smile its brilliance, and James contemplated retracting his accusations. He had hurt her, and that to his mind was unforgivable. Yet something stopped him.

“Have you given Dorrie and Somer their dolls, Samantha?”

“No! Oh why did I not remember we had purchased them, James?”

“Don’t do this to us.”

He heard Eden’s words as Samantha ran to a cupboard.

“Do what?” He looked into her lovely gray eyes. “Tell me something that will make me understand.”

She shook her head and looked away, and James wondered if he had just achieved what he had once believed he wanted: to distance himself from this woman indefinitely.

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Lord, she felt sick. The tea Eden had swallowed was trying to make a reappearance, and her hands felt clammy. How would they deal with this situation? What would Dev say when he heard what the Duke suspected? Her eyes followed Samantha as she ran to a cupboard. Flinging the door open, she pulled two boxes from inside.

“James and I brought you these, Dorrie and Somer!”

Why had he done this to her? Surely she could not have been wrong about him, wrong about his character? She wanted to believe in her heart that James did not truly think them capable of the deeds he was accusing them of, but if not then why was he pursuing this? It was terrifying; the risk of exposure would have them run out of London and into hiding if their secrets got out. How could this have happened after what they had shared? How could he have kissed and caressed her as if she were precious and then turned on her? It was everything she had always feared. Everything her father had told her would one day come true. Did he really believe they were capable of murder?

“We can’t allow you to purchase our sisters such extravagant gifts, Raven. We will of course reimburse you,” Cam said in a quiet voice as the three little girls began to laugh and jump around the room in excitement.

“This is from Samantha, Cambridge, not me. I merely supplied the funds,” James said in the same tone. “Your sisters are her first friends and she wished to celebrate the moment with matching dolls, as she also has one.”

Eden knew it would be churlish for Cam to refuse, yet for her also, the gesture did now not sit easily, as it would not with Dev. Especially considering the accusations the Duke had just thrown at them.

“After what you have just accused us of, I think you would understand our reluctance,” Essie said, her tone cold.

“That does not concern them,” the Duke said, looking at the little girls. “And I merely—”

“I disagree.” Eden cut off his words. “It affects all of us.”

With a curt nod Cam then rose, and Eden knew only relief. She could not keep up this pleasant pretense for a second longer.

“Well, sisters, if you are ready, we will return as our aunt and uncle will have missed us. Please thank the Duke for his kind gifts, girls.”

Somer and Dorrie were used to expressing themselves with gestures, having been raised in a loud boisterous family who cuddled and kissed regularly. Eden watched as Somer grabbed James’s hand and pulled his head down to her level. She then planted a loud smacking kiss on one cheek while Dorrie did the same on the other.

Eden would have laughed at his expression had she not been sick to her stomach. His cheeks heightened with color as he straightened, clearly uncomfortable. However, he thanked the twins politely and told them to return soon.

Farewells were said, Somer securing a promise from James that he would take them to Astley’s next week. Cam did not shake James’s hand and Eden and Essie walked away from him without a backward glance.

As she was walking down the stairs to the front entrance with her family, she heard Samantha talking to her brother.

“I am not sure I would like quite as many siblings as the Sinclairs, James.”

“Indeed, peace and privacy would be rare, I think.”

“But there is something about the Sinclairs, they sort of—”

“Encompass you,” the Duke said.

“Yes,” Samantha agreed. “I like it.”

From the Duke there was no reply.

The silence hung heavily over them as they walked from the Duke’s house. Eden sent Dorrie and Somer to run ahead of them, as she knew they had much to discuss. Dev would be angry when they told him, but what would he suggest they do?

“I do not want him to know about our gifts.”

“None of us want that, Eden, but I can see no way out of this. The man is persistent and knows something is not right. We cannot chance that he will accuse us of attempted murder,” Essie said.

“I don’t believe it would come to that,” Cam added. His hands were thrust in his pockets and his eyes were on the path before him. “The man I have come to know is fair, and he would not accuse us without solid evidence. Plus there is the small matter of what lies between us, and the fact you have already saved his life.”

“Solid evidence,” Eden said. “He either believes we are freaks or that we are murderers, there is no other option. For him to believe one we must lie about the other, and neither option is appealing, brother.”

As they were at the Wynburg residence moments later, no one spoke again, and Eden knew the next few hours would pass on leaden feet until they had a chance to speak with Dev in private.

...

“Can we trust him with the truth, Dev?”

“I fear we have little choice, Essie,” the eldest Sinclair said, looking out the carriage window.

Eden and her siblings had told Devon every word of their encounter with the Duke of Raven, tumbling over each other in their anxiety to get the story straight. He had calmed them and told them it would be all right, as the Duke, for all his stuffiness, was a fair man. But Eden had seen the worry in his eyes.

The four siblings had decided to drive around the streets while they worked through what they would tell the Duke.

They had no wish for their aunt, uncle, or younger siblings to overhear the conversation, so after the evening meal they had put the children to bed and told their aunt they were visiting the Duke to view his library. Lord and Lady Wynburg hadn’t questioned them, although the Earl had lifted one bushy eyebrow, as his own library was fairly extensive and they had not yet exhausted that. Cam had muttered something about treasure maps and the Sinclairs had said their good-byes and fled the room.

“He could have us locked up or deported, couldn’t he?”

“He is an honorable man, Essie,” Devon said, and Eden hoped he was right. “If I know nothing else about him I know that his men would have followed him to the ends of the earth, and that makes me trust him,” Dev added. “And let us not forget the fact that we have saved his life; that must surely count for a great deal.”

“But our secret, Dev. It is such a terrifying thought that someone other than us know of it. What if he chose to use it against us, after all our parents did to make sure that never happened?” Essie said, the anguish in her voice felt by them all.

Father used it against me, Eden wanted to say, yet she remained silent.

“We have no other choice; if he pursues the matter of the poison then he must be told the truth,” Dev said, the strain showing on his face. “We are agreed then?”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye,” Eden whispered last.

“I will keep us safe,” Dev vowed, but Eden was not sure anyone could do so once their secret was out.

The rest of the journey was completed in silence as each of the siblings came to terms that the night may bring an end to their secrets.

Eden felt unsteady when she stepped from the carriage and walked up to the front door. The door she had walked through with her giggling sisters not many hours before. The butler opened it to Cam’s hard knock. Discarding their outer clothing, they followed him to where the Duke awaited them in his study.

James watched the small somber procession file into the room, eldest to youngest.

“Raven,” Devonshire Sinclair said, speaking first, the others remained silent. Eden did not glance his way, instead moving to the sofa farthest from where he stood. Gone was the passionate woman he had kissed earlier. This one was coiled in on herself, her arms wrapped round her waist as she huddled in the seat. It was as if someone had extinguished the light inside her.

“Sinclair,” James said in the same cool clipped tones. There had always been reserve between he and Lord Sinclair; it had now intensified.

Three of the siblings sat and Devonshire remained standing. James elected to stand also.

“My sisters and brother have told me what happened today and of your accusations. First let me say I am deeply offended that you would believe this of my family when weeks ago my sister saved you from certain death, as did I two years ago, and it appears Cambridge did this very day.”

James did not flinch. He knew the words were just, yet this had been a means to an end, and now that end was about to declare its hand. Nodding, he remained silent.

“I would like to ask you before I continue if there is any way you will let the matter drop and take it no further, thus letting my family leave here this night with their secrets still their own.”

James watched a muscle in Sinclair’s jaw tick as he clamped his teeth together. The silence in the room became stifling as everyone waited for him to speak, and cad that he was, he simply held the eldest Sinclair’s gaze for several seconds before silently shaking his head.

“It seems my original belief that you were a man of honor was well short of the mark, Raven.”

“I understand your need to protect your family, Sinclair, but be warned that I will not tolerate another slur upon my honor,” James said, feeling his temper tweak, even if it appeared to be just in the eyes of the man before him.

“If you were honorable you would not be forcing my family to reveal something that shakes the very foundation they live upon.”

He didn’t speak, just held Devon’s gaze.

“So be it,” Sinclair muttered, running a hand through his already ruffled hair. “But before I continue I must have your word that what is spoken in here tonight can never leave this room. If it did it would cause me and my siblings great and unimaginable harm. In this I am resolute, Raven. And I must trust that you will hold true to your word once given.”

What the hell were they about to tell him?

“You have my word, which I assure you is my bond.”

Nodding, Devon then looked to where his siblings sat. They in turn nodded.

“It will be hard for you to understand or believe, Raven, but I would ask you to wait until I finish before questioning what you see or hear.”

James nodded, his eyes focused on Devonshire Sinclair. He could feel the tension in the room, taste it and touch it, so palpable it nearly choked him.

Devon began in an even tone, almost as if he read aloud from the newspaper.

“You are aware of the pact between our families, and that we were chosen to protect the Ravens, your ancestors, by King Edward III?”

“I am.”

“What you don’t know is that we discovered at a young age that we have heightened senses. Mine is sight, Eden’s is hearing, Cam’s is smell, and Essie’s is taste.”

James had thought of many scenarios—this, however, was not one of them. Did they honestly expect him to believe this tale?

“I can see the skepticism in your face, Raven, and frankly whether you believe us or not is of no great concern to me. Yet you have accused my family of a serious crime, therefore I must show you that I speak the truth, as I have no wish for any of us to end our days in a jail cell.”

“I would not send you to jail, Sinclair.”

“Your earlier words led my siblings to believe otherwise.”

James remained silent, as he had threatened them and the guilt settled heavily on his shoulders.

“Eden, love, go outside the room.”

James watched Eden rise and approach her brother.

“I have promised to keep you safe, Eden. Have faith in your big brother.”

She nodded solemnly and then took the plugs out of her ears and handed them to Devon. Without looking his way, she walked to the door opened it, passed through, and closed it behind her.

“I would ask you to walk to the end of the room, Raven. Once there, face the wall and say something that only you will hear, but sound must leave your lips.”

Every hair on James’s body rose as he looked into the solemn eyes of the remaining Sinclairs. Could they be speaking the truth? Suddenly everything that had niggled at him filtered through his head. The ability of the siblings to hear those men intent on robbing their carriages on the journey to London. Eden hearing things James had not. Cam sniffing the poison and Essie tasting it.

“If you wish answers, then you must do as I ask,” Sinclair said when James didn’t react to his order.

Moving to the rear of the room as requested, he softly spoke. He then returned to Devon, who called Eden back into the room. Once again she did not look at him, her body tense, face fearful.

“Recite the words, Eden.”

James watched her hesitate.

“‘Tis all right, love, say the words,” Devon said, bending to brush a kiss on her forehead. “I will keep you safe.”

James wanted to tell her to stop; her obvious distress was making his stomach ache. She was so unlike the woman who had stormed into his library earlier this day. The spirit had left her eyes and they appeared subdued, beaten.

“Eden, I—”

“When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, / And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, / Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now, / Will be a tattered weed of small worth held.”

Eden recited the Shakespeare poem word perfect yet her voice held no inflection. Emotionless and precise, she finished then once again fell silent.

“Go and sit beside Cam now, love,” Dev said, handing Eden her earplugs.

His head still reeling, James watched her push them back into her ears, then reclaim her seat. Cam wrapped her in his arms and hugged her hard.

Was it true, could she have heard him? Yet surely the facts spoke for themselves. She would have had no idea that he would quote Shakespeare. God, he couldn’t take it in, was it possible?

“Cam, what can you smell?”

“Whoever does the laundry uses lavender in the wash and the Duke uses a scent combined with lemon and sandalwood. Before we arrived, he had coffee with honey tarts followed by a brandy. In the kitchens the cook has mutton cooking and is baking a fruitcake.”

James fell into the seat opposite the sofa the three Sinclairs occupied. He wanted to clap his hands over his ears as Devonshire Sinclair cleared his throat and began to speak.

“The spine on that book on the highest shelf closest to the wall reads, The Pilgrim’s Progress From This World, To That Which Is To Come, First Edition 1678.”

James knew that book was at least thirty feet away and on the top shelf, which he needed a ladder to reach. He also knew it was The Pilgrim’s Progress, just as he knew every book on his shelves and where it was located.

“Call for tea and biscuits or cakes, Raven, and Essie will tell you what the ingredient in everything is,” Devon said.

“Enough.” No one moved as James spoke quietly. “I knew there was something about you all, yet never did I see this coming. It must be both a burden and a pleasure to have such talents.”

Eden finally looked at him, and he couldn’t be sure, but thought there was relief in her eyes. Had she believed he would expose her, that he was the kind of man to do such a thing to people who had saved his life? The answer was yes, she had, and the thought was not a pleasing one, but no less than he deserved.

“We have lived with it for a long time, Raven, it is merely a part of who we are.” Cam said the words in a solemn tone. “We believe our heightened senses are a result of our ancestors’ duty to your family.”

James tried to make sense of what he had learned.

“You believe your heightened senses are a direct result of what happened in 1335?”

The elder Sinclair nodded. “We can find no other reason.”

“And are there others?”

“Others?” Cam questioned.

“Others with heightened senses.”

Devon laughed, but it held no humor. “We believe there were other Sinclairs, yes. But as you can understand, this is not something one brings up in general conversation, Raven, because if we did, we would be locked up. But for all that, we would be arrogant to believe we were the only ones gifted in such a way.”

“Gifted,” Cam scoffed. “Cursed, more like.”

“I would advise you not to give the matter too much thought, as all you end with is a sore head,” Dev said, ignoring his brother. “What we have told you is the truth, and besides us, you are now the only one who knows. You will understand how unsettling that is for my family. You now have the power to cause great and unimaginable harm to us should you choose to do so.”

“I have given you my word, Sinclair. All of you,” James said, looking at each of the siblings. Eden did not meet his eyes. “You have saved my life on three occasions now, and your ancestors many more for mine. I promise you that your secret is safe in my hands.”

“Thank you,” Essex Sinclair said, and he heard the relief in her words.

“And is there more to these senses?”

“Aye,” Devon sighed. “They have developed in different ways over the years.”

James saw he was uncomfortable, but he wanted to know all the details now he knew the truth.

“Different ways?”

“Do you need to know everything?” Eden was finally speaking to him, or perhaps growling was the more accurate term.

“I would like to know more, purely because I am interested. If that is a problem—”

“As he knows the worst of it, we may as well enlighten him.” Essie shrugged.

Eden said nothing further, instead lowering her eyes to the floor once more.

“When we are together our senses are stronger, and when we touch, even more so. Eden can sometimes hear an unspoken word before it is said,” Devon added. “Cam can smell fear or distress, Essie can taste it and I can see long distances, Raven, and I also have the ability to see—ah—colors.”

James was intrigued; he watched Devon look away and knew he was reluctant to discuss his own senses.

“Colors?”

“I don’t suppose you’d just take my word for it?”

“You know me better than that, Sinclair. However, my interest is genuine and not intended to harm any of you.”

Devon’s sigh was louder this time. “Everyone has a color. Essie is pink, Cam is orange, Eden is blue, and I am green. The colors grow stronger as you age. When a person is ill or near death they weaken. There is more, but I will not bore you with the details, and I do not use this vision often, as everything becomes vivid and it can be uncomfortable depending on the situation.”

“Good God,” James said slowly. “Living in your family must have been a mixture of heaven and hell. There would have been nowhere to hide.”

Surprised laughter filled the room at his words.

“It was certainly never dull,” Cam drawled.

“And your parents?” James looked at Eden, but she still would not meet his eyes.

“Our father could see, but it was not strong,” Essie answered him.

“I never believed you capable of harming me, you know,” James needed to say the words out loud. To ensure this strange yet amazing family understood they had nothing to fear from him, and most especially that Eden believed him.

“Then why—” She finally looked at him, and he saw the fear. Unlike the others, it still had her in its grip.

“I knew you were hiding something from me, Eden, and as you seemed to have been elected my protectors I wanted to understand what that something was. I apologize if I have hurt you in any way.”

“I will kill you if you use this against any member of my family,” Devon said, not ready to forgive him.

Reluctantly James turned from Eden to the eldest Sinclair. “The debt I owe you is large enough to ensure my silence even if I were not a man of my word.”

“Annoys the hell out of you doesn’t it, Raven, being indebted to us?”

“I can find several stronger words to express my unease at the notion. But now if you will all excuse me for a moment, I will order refreshments, as I know Cam cannot go more than an hour without them.”

James left the family alone to talk about what had transpired, and reassure themselves that he would keep their secrets safe.

Chapter Seventeen

Eden looked at the closed door. Could it be true, would he really keep their secret safe?

“I believe he will keep his word,” Essie said, as if reading her thoughts.

“It is unlike you to trust on such a short acquaintance, Essie.”

“I know, Dev, but he is a good man, I can feel it. What color is he?”

Eden watched as her elder brother began to pace the room. He had definite ideas about the colors of people and how this affected their personalities. He also believed his siblings should marry only their color match, but as yet he’d had no reason to enforce this.

“Dev?” Essie prompted.

“Blue.”

They did not look at her but Eden knew they wanted to. He was a match to her in color but little else. Especially now, after revealing what a strange person she was. He had given the appearance of understanding about their gifts, and yes she believed James capable of keeping his word. However, she knew that he would not want to associate with them in the future, and the twins would be kept away from his sister. Her father had told her often that she would end up locked away if anyone learned what they were capable of, because people like her and her siblings were fit only for a circus.

Restless, Eden regained her feet and made her excuses, saying she needed a moment to herself. Her skin felt tight and panic had worn her nerves down. Closing the door behind her, she unclenched her fingers and removed an earplug to scratch her ear, and it was then she heard the cry. Samantha was calling out in her sleep. Pleased lamplight lit her way she hurried to the little girl’s rooms. Opening the door, Eden left it that way so soft light showed her the small body tucked into the big bed.

“Sssh now, Samantha.” She stroked her hair.

“James?”

“It’s Eden, sweetheart, don’t be afraid.”

“Eden? Why are you here?”

“We are paying your brother a call to see his maps.”

“I was dreaming.”

The raspy little whisper tore at Eden’s heart. Climbing onto the bed, she lifted Samantha and resettled her on her lap.

“Bad dreams?”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you remember what they were about, because sometimes it helps to discuss them.”

“Eden?”

“Yes, Samantha.”

“My father was a bad man.”

“My father was a bad man too, so we have that in common.”

“Really?”

“Really, Samantha, and it is all right to be angry with them. In fact I think it helps if you are. Sometimes I yell at my father even though he is no longer able to hear me. But the most important thing to remember is our fathers can no longer harm us, because we have others who will always love and protect us.”

“James loves me, he said so.”

“Of course he does, and he will always be there for you, sweetheart. Big brothers are very special people, Samantha; they take their responsibilities seriously, especially when it means protecting their little sisters.”

Samantha’s giggle made Eden smile. Her fears had been chased away, and Eden wished hers could be so easily erased.

“Why did your father not love you, Eden?”

Eden felt the paralyzing fear of her youth. Breathing deeply, she forced it away; he could hurt her no more.

“Because he made me be someone I did not want to be, Samantha.”

“I hated my father, Eden. He was not a nice man.”

“Well, as we both hated our fathers we shall be able to talk about it together,” Eden said. “We shall yell at them sometimes, and very soon you will hardly think about yours and I shall forget mine.”

“I would like that.”

Samantha yawned, so Eden settled her back on the bed and kissed her head.

“Sleep now, and I shall stay until you are asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Eden did not have to wait long until the little girl’s breathing grew into a steady rhythm. Quietly she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

James was leaning on the wall, his eyes serious as she started toward him.

“She was restless, and I heard her call out, so I came to see if she was all right.”

“Thank you, I was just about to check on her when I heard your voice.” He pushed off the wall to block her path as she drew near. “I know how she suffered at the hands of my father, yet I could do nothing to stop it.”

“Because you did not know of her existence.”

“I didn’t even know my father had remarried.” The words were cold and emotionless.

“I’m sorry,” Eden whispered. She knew how a parent could destroy a child.

“Do you know that he used to beat me for writing with the wrong hand. He broke two fingers once, and tied my left hand behind my back for days.”

“I’m so sorry, James.” She felt helpless.

“He caught me playing in the village with some of the children when I was ten. He had seen me as he drove by in his carriage. I was called to his office and beaten. He said, ‘No son of mine will associate with village children. They are beneath us. Now begone from this house and learn to be a Raven.’“

“Oh, James.”

His gaze went to his sister’s bedroom door. “I cannot bring myself to ask what he did to her, yet know I must.”

“I think it would help her to talk about it.”

He looked down at her then and she saw the turmoil in the brown depths. His words had been calm, yet the pain was still there. His father had wounded him deeply.

“What did he make you do?”

“Who?” Eden tried to step around him but he shadowed her, his hand reaching for one of hers.

“What did your father make you do, Eden?”

“It matters not.”

“It matters to me, and as I have just unburdened myself, surely you can do the same.”

“No.” Eden shook her head and tried to withdraw her hand. He enclosed it in his larger one. “What matters is that you keep your word and do not expose us for the freaks you now know we are.” She had needed to say the words to understand how he truly felt about her. His abhorrence for what she was would go a long way toward extinguishing the flames of her attraction for him.

“You think I believe you a freak because you have heightened senses?”

Eden nodded.

“Don’t be foolish, Eden. Knowing what you are makes you special, and I do not think of you and your siblings as freaks. In fact, I’m insulted that you would even suggest it.”

“I don’t believe you. Now let me pass.”

“I’m telling you the truth, why is that so hard for you to believe?” He slipped his fingers up her arm, slowly pulling her closer.

“Because he said people would turn away from us.”

“Your father said that?”

Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out her father’s face, the horrid twisted smile he would give her when he wanted to make her do his bidding.

“I don’t want to talk about this and wish to return to my family.”

“What did your father make you do, Eden?”

She didn’t want to cry. She had shed so many silent, solitary tears over her father that she would allow him no more.

“I had believed tonight’s revelations would force you to see me in a different light. That you would have no wish to see me again.”

“It would take a great deal more than knowing of your gift to stop me wanting you, Eden. In fact, I’m not sure anything will do that. Now tell me what your father did to you.”

“He made me go with him and listen to people talking so he could blackmail them, and I loathed him from the first day he forced me to do his bidding until the day he drew his last breath.”

James swore beneath his breath, and Eden liked hearing his anger on her behalf.

“And this is why you are closer to Devon than any of the others. He was your father,” James whispered, understanding what her siblings had not. “Yet I doubt you have ever told him why you turned to him, have you?”

“My father said if I told anyone he would hurt them.”

“Did he use the others at all?”

His hands moved to her shoulders and then she was resting against his chest. Lord, he was warm. Eden closed her eyes as she absorbed his strength.

“No, it was only me he took with him on his ‘outings,’ as he called them, and my siblings believed it was because he favored me, when in fact the truth was far different.”

“And it hurt because you did not want to go.”

“Yes.”

“You told me I must talk with Samantha about our father, and you must do the same, Eden. Tell Devon. He needs to know what his father did to you.”

“It would hurt him too much.”

“I believe Devon, more than the others, would understand what your father was capable of. It was, after all, he who had to pick up the pieces your father left behind.”

Was that true, would Dev understand? For years she had longed to tell him.

“My father told me that if people found out about us we would be hanged or locked away.” There, she’d said it, given voice to her biggest fears.

“No one is locking anyone away, Eden.” She felt his lips in her hair. “You need never fear exposure, I promise you. Your secret is safe with me.”

Did he really mean it? Placing her hands on his chest, she looked into his eyes.

“I have given you my word, can you not trust me?”

“Yes.” She could, Eden realized. He would keep their secrets safe. The relief would have dropped her to her knees had he not been holding her.

“Tell your brother because I think his reaction will surprise you.”

“I will think about it, and thank you for understanding.” Before she allowed herself time to think Eden climbed to her toes and placed her lips on his. The kiss was soft and sweet. Drawing back, she then walked away.

“We were just formulating a plan, Raven, for your safety,” Devonshire Sinclair said as James returned to his study.

He’d taken a few minutes to compose himself after his conversation with Eden. He’d never told anyone about his father, and she had not spoken of hers, and the revelations had shaken him more than he’d allowed her to see.

His anger at hearing how her father had treated her had far eclipsed the emotion he felt remembering how he had suffered. Was that telling? He very much believed it was. But in what way? Were his feelings stronger for Eden that he had thought? No, James did not think so. In fact he knew he was not capable of loving anyone... well, except Samantha. He loved his little sister now, very much.

Taking the cup Essie handed him, James dropped in two spoonfuls of sugar and tried to focus on the eldest Sinclair. Eden, he noted, sat once again beside the fire staring contemplatively into its depths.

“A plan?”

“Cam will have to move in here. My uncle will need to be told, of course, and perhaps we could bring a runner into the household. Your staff will need to be questioned on the brandy’s origins, and then—”

“Cam, move in here?” James had heard very little after that.

Eden’s snort of laughter made him feel better. If she was laughing, surely that meant she was feeling better.

“This, madam, is not funny. I have no wish to have your brother living with me.”

“He can use his senses to protect you until we know who is behind the attempts on your life.”

James took a large swallow of tea. A Sinclair living in his house? He’d rather wear a hair shirt.

“If it were only you, Raven, then of course I would not even consider moving into this gloomy mausoleum,” Cam added, winking at his sisters. “However, Samantha’s welfare must also be taken into account.”

“I have yet to get it redecorated,” James said defensively. He knew the house was exactly as Cam had described. When it had been just him it had not seemed to matter; after all, he had spent the majority of his time in this room, which was decorated to his tastes. “And I am able to care for my sister, thank you very much.”

“My aunt is very good with colors and decorations, James,” Essie chipped in from the sofa. “I will ask her to come and visit with you. You can then discuss your needs and she will see to it they are carried out.”

“Ah— I think I would rather—”

“Not scared of a little old lady are you, Raven?” Devon slapped him on the back.

Before he could comment further, the siblings had risen and were taking their leave.

“Cam will return in the morning, Raven. Shall I organize for a runner?” Devon questioned him. His earlier animosity appeared to have eased.

“I don’t believe I agreed to his staying.”

“Of course you did.” This time Cam slapped him on the back. “Quiet as a mouse, James. You won’t know I’m here.”

“You cannot enter a room without raising your voice,” James felt compelled to say.

“Already you know him so well,” Devon drawled.

“And I shall organize the runner, Sinclair.”

“As you wish, Raven, but I suggest you do so this very night.”

James stared blankly around his parlor after the Sinclairs had left. What the hell had he just agreed to? Lady Wynburg was going to decorate his house and Cam was to move in. Shaking his head, James wondered when he had lost control of the evening, and more importantly, his life. He could do nothing to stop the smile at the memory of Eden resting on his chest. It was time to acknowledge the fact that he wanted her in his life.

He wanted her, yet knew he could not take a gently bred woman to bed without consequences. Did he care about her gift? No. Having her in his life would be beneficial to Samantha and he could make love to her whenever he chose to. He cared for her as much as he was able to care for another person, and surely that would be enough? However, he could not think of marriage with someone set on killing him. Then again, marrying Eden would ensure Samantha was safe if they were successful. Thoughts churning, he went to bed. His last thought as his lids finally grew heavy several hours later, was that surely Eden was practical enough not to expect a love match.

Chapter Eighteen

“I will escort you, Miss Sinclair.”

Eden shot her uncle’s groom a frustrated look. She was used to riding alone, yet here in London she was forced to have a constant companion.

“I am meeting my brother in the park, Cooper, therefore I am sure I can—”

“I will just see you there then, Miss Eden.”

Eden looked at the determined jaw of the groom.

“My aunt and uncle told you to do this, didn’t they?” Cooper merely smiled and fell in behind her as they made their way through the quiet streets of London.

Waking at dawn, Eden had pulled on her riding habit and left the house. After a night spent dreaming of James and her father, she had woken weary and worried, yet determined to talk with Dev. James had been right in this, he did deserve to know, and it would be good to have someone else aware of what she had suffered. Yawning, Eden guided her horse around a cart where enticing smells filled the air.

“What are you selling, sir?” she asked the vendor.

The man lifted his craggy eyebrows, then rubbed the end of his red nose and said, “Pies, my lady.”

“I am a mere miss, sir. Cooper,” Eden turned to speak to her groom, “Do you want a pie?”

“I—ah....”

Cooper appeared to be struck mute by her question, so Eden decided for him.

“I find I am hungry and I know my brother will be. Therefore I think, kind sir, we will take three.” She dug around in the pocket of her habit for some of the coins she always carried, because Dev insisted upon it. Supposedly if she ever got into trouble they would buy her out of it.

“Meat or fruit?” the man said, looking from Eden to the footman.

Eden looked at Cooper, who appeared to have swallowed his tongue, and said, “I will have fruit, however Cooper and my brother will have meat.”

Minutes later, Eden carried Devon’s wrapped pie on her lap while she ate hers.

“Must you ride behind me, Cooper? My neck hurts from twisting to see you.”

The groom nudged his mount forward and fell in beside her, and they ate in companionable silence the rest of the way to the park. Popping the last piece of fruit-laden pastry into her mouth, Eden dusted off her hands then looked around for her brother.

“Can you see my brother, Cooper? The eldest one.”

The groom immediately stood up in his stirrups to look for Devon.

“I see him up ahead, Miss Eden. Just at the end of that stretch.”

Taking several deep breaths of crisp morning air, Eden filled her lungs and urged her horse forward. Dev was riding alone, steam rising from his horse’s rump as she neared. She loved him, therefore she was biased, but surely he was the most handsome man ever to ride a horse. Eden ruthlessly squashed the image of a certain handsome duke that had popped into her head.

“I had thought to let you sleep in this morning, sister. Last night was very taxing on everyone.”

“I like to ride,” Eden accepted his kiss before handing him the pie.

“What have you done?” Devon said, unwrapping the offering and taking a large bite.

“Why do I have to have done something to bring my brother a pie?” Eden stalled, because now that the time had come to tell him she was no longer sure it was the right decision.

“What’s the matter, Eden?”

She didn’t speak for several seconds, her eyes looking forward, focused intently on something in the distance.

“Talk to me, love, we have no secrets between us,” Dev said, stroking one of her cheeks.

“Dev....”

“Yes?”

“Let’s walk,” Eden urged her mount forward, and he fell in beside her. “Did you ever wonder why I turned to you instead of our father, Dev?”

“Yes, but I never minded, you know that, Eden. I was honored to have you look to me for love and support.”

Eden bit her lip as emotion threatened to choke her. She had to tell him before she could not.

“I love you too, Dev, so much.”

Swallowing the last of his pie, he then held out a hand. Eden took it, gripping it hard and then slowly, haltingly, she began to tell him what their father had done to her. His breath hissed and he snarled but remained silent until she had finished.

“My God, that bastard!”

“He never hurt me, Dev, he just—”

“Made your life a living hell from which you had no escape. Christ, Eden, you should have told me, and if not me then Mother!”

She looked at him then. His eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched.

“I could not, he said he would punish whoever I told, and that the family would suffer. He always spoke of what would happen if our senses were exposed. How we would be ridiculed, treated like circus acts or worse.”

Surprise had Eden gasping as Dev lifted her out of her saddle and settled her before him. His big body shook as he held her close. Her hat went flying as he buried his face in her hair.

“Forgive me, Eden.”

His words were hoarse, his breathing harsh. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she held him as tight as she could.

“It was not your fault, Dev. I did not tell you to punish you, I—I told you because I no longer wanted to carry this burden myself. I am sorry if my selfishness has hurt you.”

James saw Devon and Eden as he rode into the park. They stood in the middle of a stretch of grass with only a groom beside them. Quickly he moved to their side and signaled for the groom to take Eden’s horse’s reins. Murmuring a few instructions, he managed to guide them all beneath some trees where they would be sheltered from prying eyes. Devon’s shoulders were shaking but he was making no sound, unlike his sister who was crying loud, heart-wrenching sobs. It was obvious from their distress that she had taken his advice and told her brother what their father had made her do.

“You could never be selfish, Eden,” Devon finally said, easing his head back to look at his sister. “Were he not dead, I would kill him for what he has done to you.”

Eden sniffed loudly, and James wanted to take her from her brother’s arms and comfort her himself.

“Please, Dev, I do not want you to be angry. I just need to feel at peace. This fear and anger—dear God, it has been destroying me. I have listened to you all talk of him with love and laughter, yet I could feel none of it.”

James agreed with the eldest Sinclair at that moment. He’d kill the bastard who sired her himself were he alive.

“Here, Eden.”

The siblings looked at James in surprise, neither having heard him arrive. It was Devon who took the handkerchief and wiped his sister’s eyes.

“James told me to tell you this, Dev. We talked last night, after I found Samantha crying.”

“I came upon your sister talking to mine, Sinclair, and overheard her discussing her own father.” James took up the explanation as his eyes lingered on Eden’s face.

Her riding habit was soft dove gray with black braid marching in a line down the front. Her hat was missing and her hair bundled into a loose knot on her head. Even with red-rimmed eyes and pale cheeks she was stunning, and his belief that she was the woman for him strengthened. Surely they could live a comfortable life once he had satisfied this need for her.

You are gentleman not an animal, James, he reminded himself.

“Dev, we cannot tell the others.”

James focused on the conversation Eden was having with her brother once more.

“No, I think it best we keep this to ourselves.”

“Should I not have told you?”

“No love, Raven was right in urging you to tell me. In the last few years before his death, I became aware of the man our father was, and I am only sorry that I was unable to protect you from him.”

Eden grabbed her brother’s lapels in a fierce grip, and James thought again about the prospect of having this woman as his wife. Surely he could tame her given time?

“No one knew because he wished it that way. Even Mother, who was closest to him, did not know.”

“She always took the peaceful road, Eden, try not to resent her for that,” Devon said.

“I don’t. I loved her so much, Dev. Yet sometimes I was angry that she did not stop him.”

With a final kiss, Devon placed her back on her horse. “I need to ride hard, Eden. Will you see her back, Raven?”

“Of course.” James nodded. The man looked as if the Devil himself sat firmly on his shoulder. He needed time to digest what his sister had told him.

They watched him ride away, Eden biting her lip and sniffing, James contemplating what to say to someone who was obviously hurting deeply. He had never been good with words or emotions, but he was learning. Samantha was seeing to his education.

“I have been thinking, Eden, and believe the best option for everyone is for us to wed.” The words had come out so quickly it seemed to take her a moment to grasp their meaning.

“What!” When she did, she spun to look at him, nearly unseating herself. His hand shot out to steady her.

“You get on well with Samantha, and if you marry me I will tell no one about....” James waved his hand toward her ears, stumbling to a halt when he saw her expression.

He suddenly had a feeling of impending doom. Had he worded his intent wrongly? It was hard to say, as he could read nothing in her face. The grief of moments before had fallen away to be replaced by a cool facade. Should he have delayed this conversation for a better moment?

“Eden—”

“How kind of you to offer for my hand with the intent that I would be a suitable companion for your sister. Let us also not forget the threat that should I not concede then you will no longer keep our secrets safe, when just last night you promised you would do that without proviso.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I—”

“It can mean nothing else,” she interrupted him.

“I would provide for you and any children we may have. You would want for nothing,” James plowed on, determined to state his case now he had made the decision to do so.

“And what of love?”

James tweaked his necktie, as it was suddenly restricting his breathing.

“Of course if you love me I will—”

“If I love you? How dare you! You bloody arrogant, conceited— How dare you offer for me in such a clod-handed manner.”

“Most women would be honored to have a proposal from me!” James flared, stung by her words. He was a duke, for God’s sake!

“Eden, I am not capable of love, I need you to understand that.” James attempted to explain the man he was. He had bungled the entire proposal, he knew that now. Just looking at Eden’s raised chin told him he would be best to retreat and regroup, but he had never been the type to do either.

“I would never marry a man who wed me only to stop others from knowing what a freak I was,” Eden hissed. “A man who is not capable of love yet will accept the emotion in his wife. A m-man—”

Hell, she was crying again.

“A man who is merely marrying me to care for his s-sister.”

“Eden, you are deliberately misinterpreting my words.”

“Am I, Duke? Then tell me if you could ever love me?”

Why could he not find the right words to say.

“Your sister has my pity, Duke. Because she needs love, and it seems you are incapable of giving her what she most needs.”

“I love my sister!”

Shut up, you foolish man. James could have bitten off his tongue.

She looked at him for long drawn-out seconds before saying, “So it is just me you are incapable of loving then.”

Eden summoned her groom, who was loitering a few feet away trying to appear indifferent to their conversation. Urging her horse into a gallop, she rode away from him. He followed seconds later, trailing behind them until they reached the Wynburg residence. When she was inside the gates, he headed for his own house, wondering how the hell he had got everything so wrong.

Handing his horse to the groom, James stomped inside thinking about Eden. He would have to apologize, but wasn’t sure she would accept it. God, women were complex creatures. His life had been simple and uncomplicated before the Sinclairs had ventured into it. It had also been empty, he reminded himself.

“Your Grace, Mr. Sinclair is now in residence.” Buttles appeared before him.

“Good God, already?”

“It would appear Mr. Sinclair is an early riser, your Grace. As is a Mr. Brown, who is keeping him company in the green parlor,” he added, taking James’s coat and hat.

“And that is all I need for my day to deteriorate further,” James muttered, making his way to the green parlor. Inside he found a large neatly dressed man with blunt features and a bald head talking to Cam. Both rose as he entered.

“James, come and meet Mr. Brown, he is a representative from the Bow Street Runners. He received your summons.”

“Mr. Brown,” James said, pushing thoughts of Eden aside. He would return to them later when her brother was not nearby. “I had not expected to hear from Bow Street at such an early hour.”

“You are a duke, if I may speak frankly, your Grace. My superior does not like to tarry when summoned by a man of your station.”

At least someone respected his title.

“Mr. Sinclair has been telling me of the attempts on your life, including the suspected poisoning last night here in your home.”

“How thoughtful of him,” James drawled, sinking into a seat. He was rarely tired, yet it seemed to be a constant state after an encounter with a Sinclair, and the day had only just begun.

“I believe you have employed the services of one Mr. Spriggot, and with your permission I will have a chat with him about his progress before I settle myself in here, your Grace?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, James wondered why he was surprised that he was now to be burdened with a Sinclair and a runner. His life had always been orderly and controlled, yet now it was anything but. In fact, it was like a runaway carriage, which he could only partly blame on the Sinclairs no matter how much he wished otherwise.

“And in what capacity will you live here, Mr. Brown?”

“A footman, your Grace. Mr. Sinclair and I have come up with an excellent cover for my appearance in your household.”

“This should be good.”

Cam merely smiled at James’s words.

“If you will inform the staff you have employed me as a favor, as I served under you during a campaign?” Mr. Brown said, looking very pleased with his story. Beside him Cam nodded, endorsing the idea. “I may seem a bit on the rough side if an explanation is not offered.”

“James?”

Looking at the door, James saw his sister’s head appear.

“Good morning, Samantha.” He held out a hand. The gesture was natural to him now, and when she hurried forward to place her fingers in his it went some way to easing the turmoil his meeting with Eden had created inside him.

“I’d like you to meet Mr. Brown. He fought beside me during a campaign, and is in need of a position now he has returned to London. He is to be one of our new footmen.”

He had told her nothing of the attempts on his life and had no plans to. Hopefully he would find whoever was responsible before they succeeded.

“How do you do, Mr. Brown,” Samantha said, as if she were introduced to the staff every day. However, James wanted Samantha to be aware of Mr. Brown. If there was any trouble and he and Cam were not there, it would be Mr. Brown she could turn to now he had linked himself to the man.

“Are you having tea, James?”

Laughing for the first time that day, James tweaked one of her curls. “I am yet to have breakfast, minx, however I suppose I could manage tea, especially if cook puts some of those apple tarts you’re partial to on the plate.”

“Apple tarts!”

“Yes, Cam, they are the very best and seeing as you are now living here to help James with his library, you will get to eat them too,” Samantha stated.

“Excuse me for a moment, Samantha, Cam; I will introduce Mr. Brown to Buttles.” Rising from his seat, James left them discussing the merits of apple against cherry tarts. Finding his butler, he then made the introductions and left Mr. Brown in Buttles’s care after ordering tea.

“So how was your ride, James?”

“Very good thank you, Samantha,” he said, avoiding Cam’s eyes as he returned to his chair.

“Did you see my siblings? I believe they were riding this morning also.”

“I did.” James did not elaborate and felt Cam’s eyes on him. He would go to his study soon, and there he would work through what must be done to get Eden to be his wife, because now he had made the decision it had become a burning need inside him to do so.

“So it is just me you are incapable of loving then.”

Her words had settled uncomfortably inside his head. Could he love her, now he had already admitted loving Samantha? Surely if the emotion was inside him, then it could be shared?

Squeezing his eyes shut, James prayed the day deteriorated no further. If it did, he may just lock the door to his study and to hell with everyone beyond it.

Chapter Nineteen

“We have many invitations, my darlings! Tonight we are attending the theatre and as you know tomorrow is the Simpkin ball, and of course next Friday we are... um.”

Eden looked up from her toast as her aunt stuttered to a halt. She had not heard much of the conversation, but the stutter had drawn her attention.

“We agreed they would come to no harm with us all there, Sally.”

“Are you sure, Elijah? They are such innocents,” Lady Wynburg said, pleating her napkin.

“What are you both discussing?” Essex said. The twins were also looking at their aunt, Warwick was lost in a plate of food as usual.

“Your uncle has given you both permission to attend the Middleton-Smythe masquerade ball next Friday, and I am unsure such an event is suitable for two young ladies in their first season,” Lady Wynburg said, glaring at her husband.

“A masquerade?” Essie murmured. “Why do you not wish us to attend, Aunt?”

“They are very smoky affairs. People think because they are covered by masks and costumes they are at liberty to behave in an inappropriate manner.”

“Not always, Sally, and I fail to see how too much can happen in a ballroom filled with people. So they may dance too close to a man or converse on subjects a little more outrageous than every other evening. Let them have fun.” The Earl gave his wife a smile that spoke of his feelings for her. “If I remember correctly, you fell madly in love with me at just such an evening—”

“Elijah!” Lady Wynburg gasped.

This was true love, Eden thought, and she would accept nothing less. Her heart ached just thinking of James’s proposal. Until that moment she had not realized that she loved him, yet the pain she had felt at his cold words had been swift and fierce, forcing her to realize how deep her feelings went for him. But she would not marry him if he could not return those feelings, in that she was adamant.

“Is it a fancy dress with masks, Aunt?”

“Yes, Essie dear, and we will go shopping today to get your outfits. Your brothers too must be appropriately dressed.”

“And I will take these three terrors to the park and we shall have to have an ice from Gunthers on the return journey, for I will be quite fatigued by then.”

Squeals of delight greeted Lord Wynburg’s words, followed by kisses and hugs from everyone except Warwick, who was still steadily consuming his food.

“Are you sure, Uncle? I do not want you to be overburdened by these three. Perhaps I should accompany you?”

One large hand covered Eden’s as she finished speaking. “Devon is coming with me, Eden. He has things he wishes to discuss.”

“Do I hear my name?”

“Dev!” Dorrie and Somer squealed, launching themselves at him.

Putting one under each arm, he spun them round several times before lowering them back into their seats. He then ruffled his little brother’s hair before kissing his aunt and Essie. Cupping Eden’s face, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I am well, Eden, don’t fret,” he whispered so only she could hear.

Nodding, she lifted her teacup and sipped. Cam arrived minutes later to the same greeting from the girls, and soon he too was seated with a large plate of food before him.

“I understand you have been staying with the Duke for the past week, Cam. To help him catalogue his maps? Surely you could do that from next door; after all, it is not as if he lives streets away.”

“I am sure he has his reasons, Sally. Now, I must just run a few things past Devon. You three terrors go and gather your things, we will leave shortly,” Lord Wynburg said.

Dev had not told Aunt Sally, only their uncle, about the threat to the Duke’s life, and he had offered his assistance in any capacity should it be required.

“And we must also leave, ladies,” Lady Wynburg added.

Eden was collecting her bonnet when she heard a knock on her door. Opening it, she found Dev outside.

“May I talk to you, Eden?”

“Of course.” Standing to one side, she motioned for him to enter, closing it behind him.

“Cam and I rode with Raven this morning, you however were noticeably absent.”

“I wanted to sleep late.” What she had wanted, in fact, was to avoid seeing James. But she would not tell her brother that.

“He asked after you... several times actually. In fact he seemed disturbed that you were not riding.”

Eden said nothing to this.

“What lies between you and the Duke, Eden?”

“I—Why would you ask me that?” As her knees felt suddenly weak, Eden sat on the bed. She had expected him to question her further about their father, not the Duke.

“Just answer the question,” her brother said, impaling her with a steady look.

“No, I bloody will not!”

Dev smiled. “I am pleased society has not managed to chisel away all your hoydenish tendencies.”

“I have no wish to continue this discussion.”

“Yet you will.”

“No.” Eden shook her head. “And you have no right to ask me to.”

“As your guardian I have every right.”

The bed dipped as he settled beside her.

“Listen carefully now, love. Because as a man who has lived in society and among these people I have knowledge of how men like Raven work.”

“He is not a piece of farming equipment.”

“He is, however, not a man to toy with, Eden. Men of our breed are not malleable fools like most of the male populace who fawn upon your every word. He is a man who understands the power he holds in this country. A man of considerable wealth and one who is linked to our family, for better or worse.”

“There is no need for this, Dev, I assure you.”

Ignoring her, he continued. “My original dislike of the Duke stemmed from his obvious interest in you, Eden, no matter how much he fought to hide it. But should you and he come to an agreement, then I would not stand in your way, as I have never doubted his honor. Although I question his ability to make you happy.”

Eden tamped down the little spark of hope at her brother’s words.

“He is incapable of love, Dev. So you can rest easy that there will ever be anything between us.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I just do, so leave it alone if you please.”

“Has he hurt you in some way?”

“He was honest,” Eden said, refusing to acknowledge the pain James had inflicted on her.

Dev took her hand in his.

“He seems to care for Samantha a great deal.”

“Yes, she is the only one he loves.”

“He told you that?”

She nodded. Why did it hurt so much to know he could not love her? Surely he had given her no reason to believe he ever could.

Except those kisses, Eden thought. They were from a man who should be able to love.

“He was raised without love, Eden; that cannot have been easy.”

“No, it cannot, and perhaps that is why he will never love a woman, only his sister. Maybe he has the capacity to only care for one person?”

“Do you love him?”

“It matters not what I feel for him, only that he can never care for me. Therefore, this conversation is meaningless.”

Something in her tone must have stopped further enquiry. “Very well, but should you wish to discuss this further, then please come and speak with me.”

“I will. Now I have a question for you, brother.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“Why do you dislike Miss Braithwaite so vehemently, when in fact she is no different from many, and politer than some?”

Dev’s teeth snapped together as his face drew into a grim mask.

“I told you to stay away from her.”

“You did, but of course Essie and I have not. Therefore, perhaps you should enlighten me as to why you have formed such a dislike for the woman?”

“I have told you why, and cannot believe you have gone against my wishes in this matter.”

“We have merely conversed with her in a social setting, nothing more,” Eden said, glad the conversation had moved from her to him.

“Good, ensure you keep it that way.”

Eden had never seen her brother so visibly upset by a woman before. It was intriguing, and she really needed to talk further with Miss Braithwaite to ascertain why. Yes, the woman had hideous fashion sense, and appeared to behave in silly manner when in society. However, after observing her closely, Eden was almost certain there was more to her.

“Are you all right, Dev? I mean after what I told you about our father.”

“Yes. What you said shocked me, but in truth I should have realized what he was capable of.”

“I hate him.”

“As you have every right to, love, but to heal you must at least try to forgive him.”

“Such a wise man you are, brother.”

“Experienced more than wise, sister.”

“And now I need to go, because I can hear Essie calling for me, as the carriage is waiting.” She kissed Dev’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, I shall be just fine, and there will be a handsome prince out there somewhere whom I shall tumble madly in love with.”

“Perhaps,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up beside him. “Or perhaps you have already found him.”

On these ominous words he led her from the room.

Chapter Twenty

Fourteen days after his disastrous attempt at securing Eden’s hand in marriage, James lay on his back staring at the canopy above his bed. Having just opened his eyes, one would think he would be rested; alas, that was not the case. His sleep had been filled with restless dreams and visions of that raven-haired witch.

He had attended every event and social gathering the Sinclairs were also attending, and still James had not managed to get Eden alone. She was always otherwise engaged when he asked her to dance. She was polite in her attempts to rebuff him, he’d give the little witch that. “Oh forgive me, Duke, I have promised this dance to another,” or “I am afraid I must refuse, Duke, my hem is torn and I must fix it at once.” He was sure she’d had more torn hems or flounces in one season than other women had in three.

“Your bath is drawn, your Grace,” his manservant called from the foot of the bed.

“Thank you, Brenton.”

He was tired but the minute he closed his eyes his sleep was filled with dreams of a highly sensual nature involving Eden. Beneath him, on top of him, in each vision she would look at him, her gray eyes filled with the need that rampaged through his body.

She had men dangling after her, and that blithering, brainless twit Lord Cowley on a string. Picking up his pillow he gave it a good thump then hurled it across the room, narrowly missing his manservant, who retrieved it and replaced it at the bottom of his bed without blinking.

What the hell was the matter with him? No woman had ever made him behave like this. He was a Duke, for Christ’s sake, he commanded and ordered and he was never ignored. Damn her!

“No more,” he said, rolling out of bed. “I will stand for this no more. Tonight she will talk to me.”

Thirty minutes later he was washed and dressed and on his way downstairs. The problem was he was jealous, and the emotion was as foreign to him as many others. Muttering under his breath, he headed for his breakfast parlor, maybe a full stomach would ease his anger.

“Did the cow poo really make your feet warm then?”

Walking into his breakfast room, he looked at Cam who was talking with his sister… correction, teaching his sister bad habits, he realized as Samantha picked up her saucer and drank from it.

“Yes, we would follow the cows around then quickly take off our shoes and—”

“Yes, thank you, Cambridge, I believe we have the general idea,” James said, glowering at the younger man then at his sister until she giggled.

“Coffee please, Buttles,” James said, filling his plate and then taking a seat at the table. The problem with having a Sinclair in the house was that they didn’t do anything quietly. In the days since Cam had arrived, he had learned everything about him and his siblings. If a thought came into Cambridge Sinclair’s head it came out his mouth seconds later.

“Jane and I are going to visit Somer and Dorrie this morning, James.”

“That will be nice,” James smiled at his sister. Her brown eyes sparkled; no longer world weary and sad, they glowed as every young girl’s should. Her cheeks were a healthy pink and anyone looking at her would not guess the life she had been forced to live with their sadistic father. His personal life may be turning into a carriage wreck but at least his relationship with his sister was flourishing.

“Would you like me to come with you? We could bring along the tales of Robinson Crusoe?”

“No thank you, James, we are going to play with our dolls today,” Samantha said, getting off her chair.

“And are you happy with Jane?” he said, doing the same.

“Oh yes, she is a wonderful companion, James.”

At least he could make one of the ladies in his life happy, he thought, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek. She in turn wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.

“Buttles will call the carriage for you, and please make sure you have warm clothing on before you leave. Is Lucinda going with you?” Lucinda was her new doll.

“Yes, and it is warm outside today, James, so I will not need a coat.”

“All right, but—”

“James.” Samantha looked up at him with her hands braced on her hips. “I promise to stay warm and act politely, you really have no need to worry.”

He swallowed his smile and nodded.

“Very well, I shall fuss no more.”

She kissed him again and ran from the room, and he stood looking at the door while the lump in his throat subsided.

“She is a lovely young lady, James. It seems you are both comfortable with each other now.”

“Yes she is, and we are,” James said, reseating himself. He picked up his fork and was soon swallowing a mouthful of kidneys.

“Funny things, sisters.”

James grunted, not terribly keen to get into this conversation, especially as one of the sisters concerned was driving him to the brink of madness.

“Take Eden, for example. She has been acting very strange of late. Bit my head off last night for no apparent reason that I can see.”

Looking at Cam, James could have sworn his intent was nothing more than idle chitchat, and yet....

“She said that I was just like all the other men she had recently met, besides her sainted Devon, of course. Totally without either compassion or emotion, and unable to form a rational thought that anyone would care to listen to, which I found quite harsh considering I was dancing with her. I mean, if not from a sense of duty why would I be partnering my own sister, who can blister me with one look, rather than some docile sweet-natured debutante?”

James grunted again, although this time he was feeling a little more in harmony with the world, knowing Eden was not quite as happy as she appeared.

“Of course, you’re the problem,” Cam added, destroying James’s newfound sense of well-being with those five simple words.

“What?”

“Why the hell don’t you just apologize and then we can all have some peace. The woman’s a veritable fountain of ill humor and it is us, her family, who are suffering.”

“How do you know I have something to apologize for?” James said, indignant. He had done nothing wrong.

Cam merely raised an eyebrow and continued eating.

“She is a shrew,” James snapped, then realizing who he was talking to, he apologized.

Waving his fork around, Cam said, “Think nothing of it. I totally agree with you. However, she is my shrew, therefore I will not have her hurt.”

And just like that Devon made an appearance in his younger brother. The protector was back, ready to do battle if needed. Sighing, James picked up his cup. All he wanted was to eat his breakfast in peace; was it too much to ask?

“What did you say to her?”

None of your bloody business, James thought. “I told her I was incapable of love,” he muttered seconds later.

“That seems a rather serious conversation, James. One hopes it was preceded by an offer of marriage,” Cam said, impaling him with an icy look.

“Of course it was! Do I look like the sort of man to talk of such things in a random fashion?” James growled, and then realizing he had just declared his hand to Eden’s brother he picked up his coffee and gulped it, burning the inside of his mouth. Several vile curses spilled from his lips as he struggled to breathe.

“And Eden turned you down?” Cam said, apparently now enjoying himself hugely, if the smile on his face was any indication.

“Yes,” James rasped.

“What did you say to her?”

Why not? he thought. His life was fast becoming an open book, so why not cut open a few more pages.

“I explained that by marrying me she would ensure my silence about your family’s peculiarities, and that she was good with Samantha, and that I would provide well for her.”

It was now Cam’s turn to choke, only like everything else he did, he did not hold back. James watched as he coughed several drops of tea onto the tablecloth.

“What?” James said, not liking the mixture of humor and pity in the man’s eyes.

“There is little doubt you have a way with words, James.” This was apparently amusing, as Cam started crowing with laughter once more. “L-lord, ‘tis a wonder she left you with all your l-limbs intact,” he managed to stutter out.

James was rapidly regretting the impulse of confiding in Cambridge. It must be because he was tired. Disgusted, he took another small sip of his coffee and waited for his companion to stop laughing.

“F-forgive m-me, I did not mean to laugh at you.”

“Obviously,” James drawled.

“You have to understand, James.”

“For Christ’s sake, man, just spit it out.”

“The thing is, James, Devon has pummeled into each of us that we must marry for love first and comfort second.”

Hence Eden’s reaction.

“It may seem odd when one considers the man my eldest brother portrays himself to be. But he cares deeply for each of us, and once told us that to see us in an unhappy marriage would be a torture he could never bear. Therefore we promised him. When you offered for Eden in such a cold, unemotional manner, she would have been deeply disappointed and, I believe, deeply hurt, hence her current behavior.”

James nodded. She would have been hurt if she cared for him. Did she care for him? The thought should not please him quite as much as it did.

“Do you attend the masquerade this evening, James?”

“Dear God, no!” James shuddered. He loathed masquerades. He could never identify anyone, and could end up talking to his worst enemy—if he knew who that was, of course. When had life become so complicated? He laid the blame firmly at the door of the Sinclairs; it seemed the easiest option.

“Eden attends, and from what I gather her costume is of the revealing variety.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I shall just head to town and get us a couple of costumes, James, and then you will be able to find out firsthand.”

“I hate masquerades,” James grumbled.

“Your Grace, a Mr. Spriggot has arrived and is asking to see you.”

“Thank you, Buttles. Have Mr. Brown serve Mr. Spriggot tea and I will be down shortly,” he directed his butler. “I would like you to come to this meeting, Cam, if you have the time.”

“Of course. Could you tell your cook to use less cinnamon in the buns; Samantha has a small allergy to it.”

It was a testament to how his life had changed and how he had accepted the peculiarities of the Sinclairs that James merely nodded at Cam’s suggestion and made a mental note to speak to Mrs. Gotheram.

Mr. Spriggot looked his usual bland innocuous self, his head wrapped and pomaded with several carefully placed strands of hair. He stood as James and Cam walked into the parlor.

“Your Grace, I have just been making the acquaintance of Mr. Brown, an excellent addition to your household, if I may be so bold. He has given me the details of the poisoning —very nasty business.”

Waving the man back into his seat, James and Cam took theirs.

“Yes, it was a close thing. What news do you have for us, Mr. Spriggot?”

“I believe I have a lead on the men who attempted to murder you. Both are from a small village not far from your home, your Grace. Hired thugs, I am afraid, who I doubt have any links to whoever hired them.”

James had thought this would be the case.

“I have eliminated your father’s two brothers and their wives, and several cousins. I have yet to track down your heir, but as you stated you do not believe he is involved, I am not overly concerned about him.”

James nodded. The man was thorough, which was what he was paying him to be.

“I am afraid the next news I have for you, your Grace, is of a more disturbing nature that you may wish to hear in private,” Mr. Spriggot said, looking James in the eye.

“I will have the tea replenished, your Grace,” Mr. Brown said, rising to leave the room. Buttles walked in as the Bow Street Runner walked out.

“Your Grace, Lord Sinclair has arrived,” Buttles said.

“Of course he has,” James said, looking at the ceiling. “Send him in then, Buttles; it seems my life is to be an open book.”

“You get used to it, James.” Cam slapped him on the back.

Devonshire Sinclair strode into the room, instantly filling up the remaining spaces.

“Raven, pardon the intrusion,” Dev said, looking anything but repentant.

“Think nothing of it, Sinclair. Mr. Spriggot here was about to share with us a startling secret he has unearthed, and as removing you both would be a herculean effort that I do not have the strength for this morning, take a seat.”

Devon shook hands with the investigator, then seated himself beside his brother. James wasn’t sure why he wanted them there; perhaps because these men were responsible for his safety, even if he did not wish them to be.

“Speak, sir, these men are bent on the same purpose as I, to find whoever is trying to kill me, and I would trust them to keep their silence.” As I will keep mine, he added to himself.

“Through my investigations, your Grace, I fear I have made some discoveries of an alarming nature in concern with your father.”

“Everything about my father was alarming, Mr. Spriggot. He was a vile, evil-tempered man who cared only for himself. I am sure nothing you say will shock me.”

Mr. Spriggot looked uncomfortable. “As you are aware, your father had two wives, the first your mother and the second, Lady Samantha’s mother. But you may not be aware that your father also took many mistresses, your Grace, and it appears that two of those mistresses had five children between them.”

“And where are these mistresses and children, Mr. Spriggot?” Devon questioned when James failed to speak.

Dear Christ, James thought. Why had he not considered this possibility?

“Three are in France with their mother and two are here in England. Their mother has passed on.”

“What relevance do these revelations have to the investigation and the attempts on the Duke’s life?” Cam questioned.

“Miss Tolly, the late Duke’s second mistress, died a very slow and painful death of a wasting disease that affected her lungs. Her son and daughter nursed her and when they ran out of money for food they approached the late Duke for support. He turned them away. The townspeople I spoke with told me the Tolly family was left homeless and on the streets. The mother did not last much longer without care.”

“My father abandoned them?” James said, his voice hoarse.

“It appears that way, your Grace. The family traveled from town to town living on the goodwill of the people until their mother died. I have tracked them to Dover but the trail ran cold after that.”

James felt sick. His palms were sweating, his breathing shallow. Climbing to his feet, he paced to the windows. If I could lay my hands on you, sire, I would tear you apart. How could one man be so evil?

“And you believe that these Tollys could be behind the attempts on the Duke’s life?”

James listened as Cam and Devon questioned Mr. Spriggot on his behalf.

He and Samantha had half brothers and sisters. The thought shocked him more than it should. He knew what his father had been, yet not once had he considered that he may have sired more children.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that, Lord Sinclair. Yet I believe it must be a possibility until it can be discounted.”

“Of course. Please do what you must, Mr. Spriggot, and report to the Duke with any findings,” Devon said. James watched him rise and usher the investigator from the room.

“I shall head into town, James, and get our costumes,” Cam said, getting to his feet when his brother returned. He walked forward and gripped James’s shoulder before leaving the room.

Minutes passed and slowly James managed to haul in a steady, calming breath. Only then did Devon begin to speak.

“When Eden told me what our father had done to her, I knew I had failed in the one thing I had vowed since she first turned to me as a babe. I had failed to protect her, and no words could have comforted me at that time. To realize that the man I had known as my father was in fact a monster who mistreated my sister was a revelation that rocked the foundations I walked upon. For men like us who live with order and control, caring for those we love is entrenched within us, and when something happens to tilt our world it is very hard to readjust the balance.”

James listened as Devon spoke, taking in each word while he sorted through the turmoil inside his head.

“Changes are happening, Raven, for better or worse, and I would offer my support if you should need it in any capacity.”

James, who had turned to face the window, felt Devon draw closer. He laid a hand on James’s shoulder as Cam had done.

“In death he can no longer cause harm, James. Do not allow what he did in life to consume you. Give freedom to your rage and then find a way to fix the wrongs.”

James exhaled as he heard the door closing softly behind Devon. Staggering sideways, he fell into the nearest chair.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Get back to your room and put on the rest of those dresses at once!” Devon thundered.

Eden simply rolled her eyes as she and Essie continued down the stairs to join the family before leaving for the masquerade.

“I am serious!”

“Oooh, they look like mermaids,” Dorrie said, ignoring her scowling brother and touching the silky fabric of Eden’s skirts.

“I mean it!” Dev added loudly.

“Don’t be so stodgy, Dev, they look like sea princesses,” Somer said, walking behind Essie as she stepped off the bottom stair. “Your hair falls to your waist and it shimmers. What did your maid put in it?”

“Small pearls,” Eden said, pulling a strand forward and bending to show her sisters how it had been attached.

“For God’s sake, do not bend over like that when in company!”

“Devon, darling, relax. Your sisters are quite adequately covered and more so than many,” Lady Wynburg said, taking the tense arm of her nephew.

Eden looked at her brother. He was handsome dressed as a pirate in fitted black breeches and a flowing white shirt.

“Adequately covered? I think not.”

Essie giggled as Eden poked out her tongue.

“At least put on your cloaks before you get sick,” he added as he removed his sword and handed it to Warwick, who inspected it thoroughly.

“I want one just like this,” the young boy breathed, holding it reverently.

“And one day you shall.” Eden rubbed his head.

Lord Wynburg walked into the room dressed as Henry the Eighth, the outfit suiting his large frame. His wife was dressed as one of his many wives, although Eden was uncertain which one.

“Now you three go to bed and we will tell you all about the masquerade in the morning,” Lord Wynburg said, planting loud smacking kisses on the twins’ cheeks. Warwick he merely kissed on the top of his head, which the boy seemed happy with.

After many hugs and kisses and well wishes they were soon in the carriages and on their way. Devon, Eden, and Essie in one and the Earl and Countess in the other, as the latter had suggested they would leave early to attend another gathering.

Eden hoped James did not attend tonight. Each evening she had forced herself to smile and laugh and pretend she was happy when in fact she was miserable. What luck to fall in love with a man who could not love her back? A man with deep emotional scars from a father who had not loved him. She had avoided him as best she could, and yet for some reason he insisted on asking her to dance. Solemn faced, he would make his request, and each time she would tell him she was promised to another. He would then bow and walk away, but not before she saw the flash of anger in his eyes. What had he to be angry about? It was he who had hurt her.

“We are here, Eden.”

Surprised, she looked at the hand Dev held out to her. She had not even felt the carriage stop.

“I would ask you to treat the Duke fairly tonight, Eden. The man has suffered a shock today that would in any other man have him staying behind locked doors.”

“What sort of shock?” Eden asked, hating the fear that pooled in the pit of her stomach.

“That is for him to tell you, not I.”

“Perhaps had he treated me fairly I would do the same to him!” Eden snapped, and was instantly ashamed of her petulant behavior. The man had turned her into a shrew. She was subjected to one of her brother’s steady looks, which made her toes curl inside her evening slippers.

“I am aware that something has happened between you and the Duke, yet as you will not tell me what, I ask only that if you encounter him you are polite.”

Eden nodded stiffly but said nothing further. They followed several other guests through the front doors, where they handed over their cloaks and then joined the line to greet their hosts.

She should not have come. Her humors were foul and the dress that in the privacy of her bedroom had looked lovely now suddenly felt gaudy, exposing far too much of her body. Pulling her hair forward, she hid her chest.

The ballroom was a riot of color. Flowers and silk streamers hung from the walls and a huge fountain cascaded water high upon a dais. Everyone wore masks. Eden saw a shepherdess and a gypsy and many Henry the Eighths.

“Good Lord,” Dev whispered.

“Is it too much for you to see?” Eden questioned, taking his arm. Sometimes an explosion of color could affect him, even blinding him momentarily. It would be many times worse if he were to use his other sight.

“I will be all right once I become accustomed to it,” he said, slowly making his way down the stairs.

“Cam will spend the whole night sniffing,” Eden whispered, “and Essie will want to taste every delicious morsel.”

“Ahhh gluttony,” Essie sighed, “my gravest sin.”

“Incoming from the left,” Dev drawled making Eden and Essie’s heads turn in that direction. “Behave yourselves, sisters, I see a Cleopatra in need of a dance partner.

As Dev left, the Frenchman arrived with eyes only for Eden’s sister.

“Lord Laurent.” Essie sank into a curtsey, her smile wide as she rose.

“Miss Sinclair, will you allow me to say I have never seen a more beautiful mermaid.”

“My sister is also a mermaid, my lord.”

Eden watched color flood the Frenchman’s cheeks beneath his black mask. Dressed as a naval officer, he certainly looked the part.

“Please excuse me, Miss Eden. I did not mean to offend you.”

“No offence taken, Lord Laurent. Indeed, I agree with you completely, my sister is the most beautiful mermaid I have ever seen.”

Essie blushed, her eyes fixed on the man at her side.

Eden liked him. He had easy manners but more importantly, he seemed enamored of her sister, which showed he had exquisite taste. Plus, Essie had told her that Lord Laurent was intending to live in England, and not return to France, which pleased her. If he and Essie did wed, then she would not lose her sister. Happy that Essie was in good hands, Eden accepted the invitation to dance with a Roman gladiator. At least if she was busy, she would not continually be looking for a certain duke.

James had arrived at the masquerade late after urging Cam out the door and assuring him he would attend. He had then spent a calming few hours with his little sister, who had assured him in his current outfit he would make every maiden swoon, which lifted his spirits considerably. He enjoyed her chatter and soothing company, desperate for any distraction to drive away the thought that somewhere in the world they had sisters and brothers who may need him—or at the least his money.

He had talked to a few people but he was not good company, and in fact contemplated leaving, but as that thought entered his head he saw Eden. His breath lodged in his chest as he took in the vision she presented.

She was some kind of sea creature, a mermaid he guessed. The bodice was blue and beneath it a sheath in the same color, over which was a gossamer overlay. Her hair was loose and sparkled as it caught the light. Matching ribbons were wound through her long curls and his hands itched to touch them, trail his fingers through the silk. Every time she dipped or curtseyed her breasts pushed against the bodice, and he wanted to plant his fist in the face of anyone who dared look—anyone, that is, but him.

He wanted to do more than just look. James ached to cup the flesh and taste her. His temper was boiling, his body hard, and he was feeling savage after days of torment. The leash he always had on his temper had slipped and the polite facade of the Duke of Raven cracked wide open.

Enough! he thought, pushing off the wall. He cut through the guests until he reached Eden as the music finished.

“Miss Sinclair, I beg of you, just one more dance.”

“Alas, my gladiator, I fear we have already danced overmuch,” Eden said gently.

“Eden, you will not dance with him.”

The voice came from over her shoulder and she knew instantly to whom it belonged. For the first time that night she felt alive; her skin prickled and her fingers tingled. Turning, she found the Duke of Raven looking at her over the heads of several people. He was still some distance away, but she had heard his words clearly. People parted as he walked and she saw he was dressed entirely in black, from mask to his gleaming boots. Breeches molded his thighs, a flowing shirt was laced at the neck, and she could see his skin through the V at his collar.

“I-I….” Her throat felt suddenly dry as James advanced on her. Eden had the urge to run, but where would she run to? People crowded her in on all sides.

“I beg you, Miss Eden, just one more dance.”

“She is dancing with me.”

James reached them and stood before her.

“Excuse me, sir, Miss Eden and I were conversing,” the gladiator said.

Eden was sure she did not want to dance with James. The look in his dark eyes was dangerous, and she knew it spelled trouble for her.

“She is dancing with me.”

Before she could retreat, his fingers had clasped around hers.

“I-I am promised to another,” Eden said, hating how breathless she sounded as he led her away.

“No, you are promised to me.”

“I could never be with a man who cannot love me,” she whispered furiously.

He didn’t speak again, instead pulling her indecently close until their thighs were touching and her breasts crushed against his chest. She felt the anger in him, every muscle taut, and her body reacted traitorously.

“Please, James, I am asking you to release me,” Eden said, uncaring that her voice shook.

“No.”

The dance was both pleasure and pain. Pleasure to be held in the arms of the man she loved, and pain because he could not love her back. His jaw remained clenched, his eyes on her face. Eden was not brave enough to return the look, so she concentrated on the laces of his shirt.

When the music finished, she turned to flee but James clamped his fingers around her arm and began walking. She had little option but to follow or make a scene. He moved slowly through the crowd, towing her behind him until they had reached a door that he opened and tugged her through.

“Release me!”

Ignoring her, he set off down a hall in long strides, his pace now faster. Eden was forced to trot to keep up with him. Using her other hand she tried to pry her wrist free but he refused to release her.

“James, let me go!”

He turned right and she lost her balance, so he hauled her to his side and half carried her up a set of stairs, then he began to test doors, opening and closing them until he found the one he wanted. Flinging it wide, he picked Eden up and carried her over the threshold. He lowered her to her feet and turned to shut and lock the door behind them.

The open curtains allowed the moonlight to flood the room and Eden stumbled backward until her bottom hit something solid—a desk. James followed, his eyes intent through the small holes in his mask.

“Wh-what do you want from me?”

He pulled off his gloves then wrenched off the mask, and threw them to the floor as he kept walking until his body touched hers.

“Take out your earplugs,” he rasped. “I want you to hear everything clearly.”

“I do... I will,” she said, but he held out a hand. She did as he asked, and watched as he tucked them into his pocket.

Lifting his hands, he removed her mask and then cupped her face, tilting it so he could see her clearly. “I need you, Eden.”

Four simple words that undid her completely. The emotion in them was raw and true and she felt her resistance flee. Their lips met and he took her mouth in a hard, searing kiss. As one stopped, another started, and Eden met him head-on. Their teeth clashed, tongues melded, and it was not enough, not nearly enough.

“I have watched you for days.” He spoke the words against her lips. “Watched and wanted you until you filled my every waking thought, and when I sought relief in sleep, you tortured me in a web of sensual dreams.”

Eden moaned as James trailed heated kisses down her neck. He grabbed handfuls of her skirt, raising it up her legs until he could wrap his hand around her thigh, the heat of his touch almost too hot to bear. Her hands fisted in his hair, tugging his curls, stroking his neck. Innocent she may be, but intuition and blind need were directing her. Throwing her head back, she sighed as his lips touched the curves of her breasts rising above the bodice of her dress. He was a master of torture, each stroke or lick sending a pool of heat between her legs. She felt his fingers pull the lacings of her dress free, and he then eased it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a soft pool of silken fabric at her feet.

“I know not what madness you have created inside me, my sweet siren, but only you can soothe it.”

James eased her chemise slowly up her body, his hands caressing the flesh they encountered on the way. Eden shivered as he slipped it over her head and threw it aside.

“Trust me, sweetheart, and know I would never hurt you.”

“I want to,” Eden whispered, knowing that only the truth could be spoken now. “But I’m scared, James.”

“Trust me,” he said again. “And forgive me for the idiot I have been.”

His eyes held hers and she saw he meant every word. Only when she nodded did he look at her body.

“In my dreams you were beautiful, but this….” Eden heard the emotion thicken his voice. “You are so much more that words fail me.”

She could manage no words either as his hand cupped her breast.

“Yes, love, just feel.”

Heat slammed into Eden as James lowered his head and ran his tongue up her breast, teasing the aching flesh before taking the hard bead of her nipple into his mouth. She was awash with pleasure.

“It is so much,” she whispered, trying to find words.

He lifted her onto the desk and stepped between her thighs, and suddenly she was exposed to him.

“Christ, Eden, you’re beautiful.” She felt the heat from his eyes as they ran over her body.

He kissed her again. This time it was slow and heated, a torturous pleasure that sent liquid heat through her veins. She felt his fingers touch her breasts before trailing down her waist to run through the curls only she had ever touched.

“Trust me,” he whispered again as his hand moved lower to stroke the damp petals between her legs, soft caresses that drove a whimper to her lips.

“Just feel, Eden.”

James kissed her lush breasts again, laving her nipples as she arched into his mouth. He swept a finger over the tight bud between her thighs. She arched forward in shock as he circled it slowly. Her moans made his passions soar, yet he wanted this for her, needed her climax before he took her. She was innocent, he reminded himself, trying to pull back, determined not to terrify her with the fierce passions that urged him on. Slipping a finger inside her sheath, he began to stroke her.

He watched her eyes, watched for any sign she was not right there with him, but the gray depths were glazed with sensual heat.

“So beautiful,” James said, easing his fingers from her. He quite literally wanted to feast on the body before him. Soft, pale skin, long silken limbs. Blood thundered through him, his body hard with need. Pushing a cloud of dark curls over her shoulder, he took her mouth once more. Kissing Eden was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Before, it had been brief and a means to an end, but with her, it was as if his soul stirred.

He felt her fingers on his clothes, pulling the shirt from his breeches.

“I want to see you, James. I need to touch you as you have me.”

She slipped her hands beneath the hem and caressed him, her wicked fingers stroking his stomach.

“Sweet Christ, Eden,” James rasped, pulling free. “Your touch is like a brand on my skin.” Quickly he removed his clothes and returned to her. Gritting his teeth, he let her touch him once more. She started with his shoulders and then moved to his chest. When she placed a soft kiss on the V at the base of his neck, James could do nothing to stop the shudder that rolled through him.

She continued to kiss his neck and chest while her hands moved lower. He moaned, long and deep, as she touched his arousal, her wicked fingers circling the top and then moving lower. When she wrapped a hand about him he was sure he would find his release. Gritting his teeth, he let her continue for three heartbeats before removing her hand.

Easing her backward on the desk, James thought he would always remember how she looked right here and now. Spread before him, her body aroused, eyelids lowered, hair everywhere. Her breasts were full, nipples tight.

“There will be pain, sweetheart.”

“I know, but I want this with you, James. I am not afraid.”

He stroked her body, slowly arousing her further until she was again arching toward him. Aching to be fulfilled, James eased forward, slowly entering her tight wet sheath. His arousal pulsed with the need to drive in hard, but he would not hurt her. Teeth clenched, he tried to hold back. Her hands went to his cheeks, cupping his face. Her eyes held his as he slowly pushed through her innocence.

“I love you, James!” The words were a cry as he sheathed himself deep inside her.

“Eden, I—”

“Sssh, I want no promises from you. I give you my love freely, and ask for nothing in return.”

“You humble me.” James braced his hands on either side of her head, looking deep into her eyes. Her smile was the sweetest he had ever seen.

“Hold still, sweetheart, let your body adjust.” She was tight and hot and his body was tense as he fought the urge to pull out and thrust hard inside her again.

“The pain is easing.” Eden touched the ridge of his clenched jaw.

“Are you sure?” He could feel his release, yet would not succumb until Eden had found hers. Cupping her breasts, he caressed the tips.

“Oh, James.”

James watched as her breath grew rapid, fingers now digging in to the desk she lay on. She was so close. He thrust into her again and again, and then she cried out his name. One thrust more and he found his release. The sensation shuddered through his entire body as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed over him. James slumped forward on top of her, completely spent.

“Oh my.”

He found the strength to suck in several lungfuls of air before bracing himself over her once more. Her eyes were closed and a blissful smile tilted her ravaged lips. She looked like a fallen angel, his fallen angel. Looking around the room, he found a daybed, and lifting her into his arms, he staggered backward and collapsed in a tangle of limbs on it. Laying her on top of him, James closed his eyes. What the hell had just happened?

“Eden, please be my wife.”

“Yes.”

“I know I am a stiff, uncompromising man, but—”

“I said yes, James.”

He was stunned. She had said yes and he had not even used the arguments he had spent days marshalling. Cupping the back of her head, he held her close as the realization that she would be his wife settled inside him. He felt something for her, there was no doubt about that. This jealousy was not normal, and neither was the fierce need that came over him whenever he saw her. He just wasn’t sure what name to give the emotions yet.

“I will try to be the husband you want, Eden, but in all honesty I will not be the easiest of men. I-I have never lived with people. Never had to think about their needs, and I am not a malleable person.” James needed her to understand what she would be stepping into if she did wed him. When, he added silently.

“James, I live with Cam and Dev. Do you honestly believe your surly temper can upset me?”

“I did not mention a surly temper, but yes, I take your meaning. Living with those two cannot have been easy.”

“I love you, James, a strong unwavering once-in-a-lifetime love, and I ask nothing in return from you that I know you are not ready to give.”

Her words caused warmth to spread through his body. Samantha had begun to reach all those cold places inside him, and something told James that Eden would be the one to finish the job.

“All these feelings are so new to me, Eden. My father once told me that there was no place in a man’s life for love or emotion, and as such he beat them out of me whenever I displayed any.”

Eden pushed herself upright to look down at him, her eyes filled with anger for his father. James did not like sympathy, but anger he could cope with.

“It is my fondest wish, James, that our fathers are settled in the bowels of hell for eternity.”

He found a smile at her words. She would always be there to make him smile, and the thought had it widening.

“‘Tis all right now, my sweet. The memories no longer hurt me. Samantha has begun to heal me, and you—well, the minute I met you every other thought was driven from my head.”

Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her down for a kiss. Soft and sweet, their lips clung.

“But there is more I must tell you. Today, the private investigator I had employed to find who attempted to kill me told me that I have half brothers and sisters—five of them, to be precise.”

“I can imagine that was quite a shock.”

“Somewhat, but to be honest I am unsure why I had not come to this conclusion myself. I knew what my father was, the thought should have crossed my mind.”

“Perhaps, and then perhaps not, but what matters is that I am sure you wish to locate them.”

How could she understand him so well already?

“I do, but the investigator also believes that it is possible that one of them is intent on harming me.” James told Eden what he knew, and that her brothers were also party to the information.

“Well then.” She rubbed his chest. “We shall deal with what arises, but be assured you shall have us there at your side as you do.”

James felt that fierce jolt of emotion once more as he looked at her. “If I marry you then I get them also?”

“I’m afraid so.” She laughed.

James gave a weighty sigh. “If I must, I must. And now, my sweet, we must dress and return before your brothers hunt me down and find me ravishing you once more.”

“I wish I could stay in this room with you for the remainder of the evening. I hate these things, all that simpering and gushing.” Eden shuddered.

“I like it no more than you, and promise that when we are wed we shall accept only a select few engagements. I will not marry you until I have found who is trying to kill me, Eden, it would be unfair to place you at risk. For now we must keep our engagement in the family.”

James felt the tension that suddenly filled her body. “Please take care, James, I-I do not want to live without you.”

He looked at her solemn face. She really did love him.

“I have so much to live for now, my sweet, therefore, I promise to take care. Plus, I have the Sinclairs to protect me.”

“It shall be my life’s work,” she said as he lifted her off his body, and he liked the sound of her words.

They dressed and tidied each other. He tied her mask and she his. He laced her gown, his hands straying to her breasts, but she slapped them away and reached for her slippers.

“Come, Duke, we must return.”

“Promise me you will not torment me by dancing with every man present in that dress. It will drive me to distraction” he said handing back her earplugs.

“Promise,” Eden said, kissing his cheek.

“Why do I not believe you?” James shook his head as he followed her from the room.

He sent her in to the ballroom first, and followed several minutes later. The first person James encountered was Louis.

“That is a very convincing costume, James. I could almost see you holding up a coach.”

“Stand and deliver,” James muttered, looking around for Eden.

“Your sea nymph is currently dancing with her surly elder brother.” Louis studied him. “By the look on your face, Raven, I would say the rift between you and Miss Eden Sinclair is repaired.”

“I could wipe that smile from your face, Laurent.”

“You could, however my debonair looks are what attracts women to me and to damage them would harm my prospects irreparably.”

James snorted, then muttered a few unflattering words in French.

“Tsk tsk, such language, and from a Duke no less.”

“I thought you had already set your sights on someone, Laurent, and believe that someone has the surname Sinclair also?”

“Perhaps,” was all he said before he went to find his next partner.

Shaking his head, James threw a last lingering look at Eden before doing the same. It was going to be a long evening.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Eden, the Duke has arrived and you are to come to Uncle’s office as soon as you are dressed.”

“Go away,” Eden groaned, burying her head beneath the pillow. “I have barely been asleep.”

“Did you not hear me!” her sister shrieked. Wrenching the curtains open and flooding the room with light, Essie then stormed to the bed and pulled off the bedcovers. “The Duke is downstairs talking to Dev and you are to join them soon.”

“What!” Eden screeched, leaping out of bed. “Here, now? So soon? I had thought he would wait until—never mind, quick, help me wash and dress.”

“Has he offered marriage, Eden?” Essie had gone very still, her hands clutching one of Eden’s shifts to her chest.

“Yes, and I have accepted.” Eden hugged her close.

“But you said he was the last person you would marry just days ago and now—”

“I love him, Essie, so very much.”

“Really?”

Eden nodded.

They both burst into tears, remembering the talks they had shared long into the night at Oak’s Knoll—talks of marrying for love and nothing less. They had promised Dev this, and Eden would honor that promise by marrying James, the man she loved.

“Come, you must wash and hurry downstairs then, as I am sure Dev will not be as happy about the Duke’s request as you are.”

“I can hear the murmur of Dev’s voice, but not James’s.” Eden tried to pick out her fiancé’s words. “It is quite strange, Essie, but since I realized my feelings for him, I do not seem able to hear him like I do others.”

“Really? That is unusual, don’t you think?”

“Very, but now is not the time to think about that.”

Eden was soon dressed with the help of Essie and her maid. She then ran from the room and down the stairs.

Standing outside her uncle’s office, Eden placed a hand over her heart to ease the thudding in her chest. She knocked on the door and then entered.

James sat on one side of the desk, looking handsome in a dove-gray jacket and darker gray trousers. Dev sat on the other; they were scowling at each other. They stood as she walked forward.

“Good morning, James, Devon,” she said, offering a tentative smile.

“The Duke has asked for your hand in marriage, Eden. I have neither accepted nor declined the offer, wishing to speak with you first.”

“James, may I speak to my brother alone for a few minutes, please,” she said. He looked at her for a few seconds then smiled, a soft tender smile that was for her alone and made her toes curl inside her slippers.

“Call for me when you are finished,” he said, taking one of her hands and kissing the back, and then ignoring the loud growl from Devon, he walked from the room, closing it softly behind him.

“I know I told you I respected him, and that you were to be nice to him last night as he has had a trying time, Eden, but I also remember our discussion of a few days ago. He hurt you, and you said he was incapable of love. What has changed to make me think seriously about his proposal?”

Eden walked around the desk to stand beside her brother’s chair. Taking his hand in hers, she gripped it tight.

“The problem for me has always been that no man can match or better you in my eyes. None had your honor or loyalty; none made me feel safe like you did. I didn’t expect devotion, Dev, but I wanted to be someone’s princess, which is how you always made me feel.”

He didn’t speak, just watched her as she continued, his green eyes intent.

“It took me until last night to see that James could be that man. Like me, he harbors deep secrets that have scarred him. He portrays himself as a cold and aloof man who has hidden himself behind an emotionless façade, yet that is not the real James, Dev. He is a man capable of seeing me as his princess, and I love him very much.”

“God! Eden, really?” Dev groaned. “The man has a reputation to fear and is cold as an iced-over lake most days.”

“A bit like you, Dev?”

His smile was wry.

“He is a protector, also like you. He loves Samantha and in time I believe he will love me.”

“If he doesn’t I’ll rip his head from his shoulders.”

Laughing, Eden kissed his cheek and hugged him hard. “You, however, I have always loved and will do so till I draw my last breath. My savior, my friend and companion, the man I have always adored.”

“I love you too, little sister, and I needed to know that you would be safe when you left my care. It seems you have found a man to provide that. It may take time for me to adjust, but if you believe he is the one, then I shall not stand in your way.”

The siblings held each other for a while and then Eden said she would go and find James.

“At least he has your colors,” Dev said as she reached the door. “Essie has made me promise not to look at Laurent’s, and that worries me.”

“I am impressed you are obeying her.”

“I have not seen the man anywhere but at a social event, or I would not be. You know how much changing into my other sight can hurt me when there is all that color about.”

“Perhaps it is not as important as you believe it to be, Dev?”

“Perhaps.”

Eden smiled and blew her brother a kiss then left, quietly closing it behind her. She found James looking out a window, shoulders hunched as if he were contemplating something disagreeable.

“James.”

Turning, he held out a hand as Eden walked toward him.

“You look beautiful this morning.” The words were gruff and sounded unromantic, and yet they made her heart sing.

“Dev wants to talk with you.”

“Are we to go another round then?”

Eden moved in to his body as he faced her. Rising to her toes, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged his head down until their lips met. His arms circled her, holding her close, only releasing her when she had been thoroughly kissed.

“All will be well now, I promise. My brother is just protective of me, and had not understood my feelings for you,” she whispered against his lips.

“Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“Thank God I had not imagined those words.”

Eden stood back and lifted one of his hands. Opening it, she kissed his palm before closing it.

“I will always love you.”

Closing the distance between them once more, he kissed her hard before walking away.

...

James could not turn around without falling over a Sinclair. It seemed that now he was to be one of them they were more determined than ever to protect him. Cam sniffed every drink and piece of food he and Samantha ate. If he was uncertain, Essie would be called in to taste test. Dev insisted on looking his staff over, checking their colors to see if any of them displayed the darkness that he termed evil. James endured it and soon began to accept that if he wanted Eden then her family came with her. It was also obvious that they meant a great deal to her, and loath as he was to admit it to anyone, they were beginning to mean a great deal to him as well.

“Eat your own food!”

“Ah, the lord of the manor has arrived,” Dev said, waving his knife at James as he walked into his dining room. “Mr. Spriggot is due to arrive shortly, James,” he added around a mouthful of ham, “therefore I thought it important to be present.”

“And is Mr. Spriggot due in the dining room?”

Sarcasm was obviously too subtle for the Sinclairs as they both stared at James as if he were a trifle spare in the attic, and then looked carefully around the room.

“I do not believe so, James. However, should you wish to discuss business in here, Dev and I will be more than agreeable,” Cam said.

Of course they were deliberately baiting him. He knew it, they knew it, and still he took the lure with both feet, both hands, and anything else he had at the ready.

“Of course we are not going to conduct the interview in here, you numbskull!”

“Tut tut, Duke. I hope you will not display your temper in such a way in front of my sister. I will not have her tender sensibilities wounded.”

“Go to hell!” James snarled, stalking to the sideboard. “And take your big brother with you.”

“A trifle testy this afternoon, Sinclair?” Dev said. “And please remember that we are not easily offended by insults. In fact, my family cut their eye teeth insulting each other.”

James was not a man who sulked, snarled, or insulted without serious provocation. Therefore he was instantly ashamed by his behavior. Filling his plate, he sat before the Sinclair men.

“Please forgive my outburst, I am merely concerned by the pace at which this investigation is running. Before, when I was alone,” he waved his hand around vaguely, “I would not have cared either way—”

“If you lived or died?” Cam queried softly.

James loaded his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. The beef suddenly tasted like straw. He was not a man for confidences like these Sinclairs were, and was uncomfortable with two sets of green eyes focused on him with unwavering intensity. Swallowing, he took a mouthful of coffee.

“Not everyone has a childhood filled with love and laughter, Cam.”

“I understand that, James, and am sorry yours was not.”

“But now you have a family in Samantha and Eden and us, for better or worse, and you have no wish to be dispatched and would like whoever is intent on just that to be found?” Dev added, filling the silence.

“Yes.”

Silence settled around them, and James was surprised how comfortable it felt.

“I gather you know Lord Laurent well, James. Can you give me any information about the man, as it appears he has an interest in my other sister?”

James thought about Dev’s words while he swallowed his mouthful.

“I know he is a viscount, and has no family. I’m unsure what happened to them, but wondered if they were lost during the revolution.”

Dev nodded, but remained silent.

“He is a good man, and came to my aid when I was being attacked, as you know. He is a skilled fencer, and from what he tells me, is intent on settling in England.”

“What of his financial situation?”

“He seems comfortable. At present he is staying at the Grillion, but has had a trip to the country to view an estate he is thinking of purchasing.”

“What I have seen of him I like,” Dev admitted. “But as you know I am protective of my sisters. Therefore, I want to be sure that he will be good to Essie should he offer for her.”

“A Frenchman,” Cam said. “Not sure how I feel about one of them joining the family.

Have you checked his colors?”

“Essie made me promise I would not. She says she has no wish to know what color Laurent is.”

“But this makes you uncomfortable?” James asked.

Dev did not look happy. “Very, as it is no secret I believe my siblings should wed only their color match.”

James knew he and Eden were a match.

“I have given my word, so will stick to it, but only as long as I remain comfortable with what lies between them.”

James had an understanding of this man now. He followed along with his family’s wishes until he felt it necessary to intervene, then he did so without hesitation.

“I would be grateful if you hear anything further about Laurent, you let me know.”

“Of course.”

“I suggest you eat up, James. As your butler is about to open that door, and announce the arrival of one Mr. Spriggot,” Dev added.

James didn’t turn. He knew the door was closed. Lifting an eyebrow, he stared at Dev.

“Your butler is a very bright shade of orange, James; in fact,” Dev added, his face the picture of innocence, which told James what he was about to say was far from it, “he’d make a perfect match for Cam.”

James gave a bark of laughter while Cam howled with rage and lobbed a forkful of carrots at his brother.

“Miss Sinclair has arrived, your Grace, and Mr. Spriggot. Mr. Brown is serving him tea while Miss Sinclair is—”

“Here!” Eden said, squeezing past his butler and into the room.

James felt her smile through his entire body as he rose to his feet. It lit her face; her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed, and he wanted to take her to bed and ravish every inch of her. Dressed in soft peppermint with fine rose and cream stripes, she looked angelic and far too disturbing for his peace of mind. His eyes settled on the little row of buttons marching up the front of her bodice. He could have those open in seconds.

“Hello, James,” Eden said, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. A hint of her floral scent drifted over him and then it was gone.

“Brothers,” she said, nodding to her siblings.

“Sister,” they said, doing the same yet not rising to their feet.

“Such gentlemanly behavior,” James said.

“If we stood every time one of our sisters came into the room we’d be exhausted by lunch,” Cam said, wiping the gravy from his plate with a piece of bread.

“I met a very interesting man on the walk here.”

“I have told you not to walk here, Eden, it is too dangerous.”

She patted his arm. “It is only a few feet, and my maid was with me.”

“It takes only one step for someone to harm you, and I am adamant in this. If you do not obey me then I will set a guard on your aunt’s door, and every time you leave the house he will follow you.”

“We shall keep Mr. Spriggot company until you are free, James,” Cam said, quickly climbing to his feet and almost running out the door, closely followed by his brother.

“Your brothers are cowards.”

“Undoubtedly, however we digress.” She placed a hand on his chest to regain his attention. “It is not me they are after, James. Surely there is no need for me to take so many precautions.”

“And if whoever wants me dead sees you walking down the road unescorted and gets the idea that in kidnapping you they would get to me, do you not think they would take that opportunity?”

“But no one knows we are betrothed, James, so I fail to see the danger.”

She thought she had him there; he could see the triumphant little smirk on her face.

“Eden, someone would just have to see me within two feet of you to know what is between us,” James drawled, taking a step closer.

“Really?”

“Really.”

His arms slipped around her waist.

“Every time I look at you I want you,” he growled, kissing her neck.

“Let’s marry then. Now.” Eden sighed.

James undid a few buttons and parted her dress, then tugged down her chemise, exposing her breasts.

“S-someone could come in.”

Lifting her high, James buried his face between her breasts, then lowering her down his body he pushed her against the door. Pulling out one of her earplugs, he said, “You’ll hear them if they do.”

“I-I can’t hear when I’m with you.”

She shuddered as his tongue swiped a long hot lick down her breast.

“Really?”

Nodding, she clenched her eyes shut. “Oh dear, I-I had not wanted to tell you that.”

“No,”—his breath made her shiver as it blew over her damp flesh—”I’m glad you did.”

“You seem to d-destroy my concentration when you touch me. I would have to really focus to hear anything.”

James could do nothing to stop the slow smile spreading across his face.

“Of course that may change with familiarity,” she added quickly.

“No it won’t, because you love me. Therefore I will always destroy your concentration.” James once again focused on what he had uncovered, running his tongue down the sweet-scented valley between her breasts.

“We—we should—Mr. Spriggot—”

“Can wait,” James mumbled. He had never done anything like this, taken the risk of exposure, or behaved in such a reckless manner, but this was Eden, and she destroyed his control.

“But—”

“It’s impolite of me to talk with my mouth full, therefore, shut up,” he added before taking her nipple into his mouth. Wonderfully responsive, Eden arched toward him, her fingers biting in to his shoulders.

“No, love, don’t undo my clothes, yours will take us long enough to fix,” James said, stopping her wandering hands. Clasping them in one of his, he lifted them above her head and continued his wicked torture.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Eden gasped as he released her wrists and dropped to his knees before her.

“Hold your skirts, Eden.” James bunched them and urged her to take them in her hands.

“James!” Her furious whisper as he licked the soft petals between her thighs urged him on. Nudging her legs apart, he ran his tongue along the damp cleft and felt her shudder. She tasted wonderful, his woman.

“James—this is h-highly improper.”

“Sssh,” he breathed against her, tasting and teasing her, feeling her body tense with each lick. Her breath quickened as he tormented the small hard bead.

James could not wait for the day she would be in his bed. His wonderfully responsive little fiancée would love everything he taught her. Climbing to his feet, he looked at her dazed expression then opened his breeches and lifted her.

“Wrap your legs around me, Eden.”

Still dazed, Eden obeyed the ragged command and then moaned as he braced her against the door before thrusting inside her. She made him feel primitive, like a man who could conquer whatever he chose. Her fingers dug in to his shoulders, her face now buried in his neck, and seconds later, just as he found his release, she joined him. It had been hard and fast and his heart thudded as if he had ridden hard for hours.

Eden slumped on his shoulder as his forehead hit the door. Breathless, they held each other for several minutes until he slowly lowered her to the floor.

“We have to find the man who wants me dead, because next time I take you it will be in a bloody bed,” James said, pulling up her chemise and then starting on the buttons. “And I will take my time worshipping your beautiful body.”

“Yes,” she whispered, spent. Moments later they were once again presentable, although the lingering heat in their eyes told a different story.

“Will you visit with Samantha while I see Mr. Spriggot?”

“But I would rather know what is happening.”

“I will tell you everything if you let me go in there alone,” James said. “And while I don’t care what your brothers think of me I know you do, therefore they will see us together and know instantly what we have been doing and—”

“All right, I understand, but I want to know what is said,” Eden said, turning to leave. James spun her back and kissed her, then held out her earplug.

“Try not to eavesdrop, my sweet.”

Eden just snorted and flounced away. James took a moment to enjoy the view then made his way to his study, where he hoped someone would tell him what he wanted to hear.

Chapter Twenty-Three

That evening they were to attend a ball at the house of the Earl and Countess of Vallan, and as usual there were hundreds of people in attendance.

“‘Tis an awful crush,” the hostess said, looking gleeful as the Sinclairs greeted her.

“I should have some nose plugs made,” Cam griped as the scents started to reach him.

“There is Lord Laurent, Eden. I have promised him my first dance,” Essie whispered.

“He is a wonderful man, Essie, I am glad you like him and he likes you.”

“Oh well—”

“He can’t keep his eyes off you,” Eden said, turning toward the Frenchman as he detached from the group he was talking with and came toward them. Essie was positively glowing by the time he arrived; in fact, Eden had never seen her sister looking more beautiful.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Miss Sinclair?”

“Of course, my lord.” Essie placed her hand on his arm and then let him lead her to the dance floor.

Eden and Cam watched their sister walk away on the arm of Lord Laurent.

“I cannot believe Mr. Spriggot has no news about who is intent on harming James, Cam.”

“Spriggot believes he is on to something, and should have more news within the next day or two. He is just waiting the return of his man to London. Until then, we will keep your beloved safe, sister.”

“Lord, I hope so.” Eden hated the thought that out there somewhere, someone wanted to kill the man she loved.

“Put your worries aside for now, Eden, as Crawley is about to ask you to dance, and I am going to find the delectable Miss Beadle.”

Eden accepted Mr. Crawley’s request to dance, and as she took her place she looked for James. He was in the line opposite, dancing with the Duchess of Abernathy. Eden narrowed her eyes at him, but he merely smiled back.

“What has you smiling in such a secretive manner, Duke?” Eden heard the Duchess say as she moved closer.

“I have a sunny nature, Duchess, nothing more than that.”

Eden giggled, which he heard, because his lips twitched. She shot him a look and he pointed to her ears. On the return to where she started, she eased one ear plug out slightly. Just enough so she could hear him, but not enough to give her a headache.

“You look beautiful tonight, my love.”

Eden smiled.

“However, that bodice is a trifle low. Crawley just tripped over his feet as you bent over.”

Eden heard James’s words and then gave her partner a slow smile.

“Eden,” James growled.

Eden batted her eyelashes, which had Mr. Crawley stumbling once more.

“You will desist, woman!”

Oh this was fun, Eden thought, ruffling the usually unflappable Duke of Raven.

“When I get you alone, I will make you pay for the torment I am currently enduring.”

Eden decided she had teased James enough just as she heard the Duchess of Abernathy speak.

“I will be blunt, Duke. I am without a bed companion at the moment and I have heard of your prowess in that area, therefore I have my heart set on you taking the place of my last lover.”

Eden intercepted the warning look James sent her, however, it did nothing to calm the rage currently bubbling inside her.

“I think not, Duchess. I have no wish to be your latest bed companion.”

“Come now, Duke. We high-ranking peers must stick together, surely. Lying with those beneath us cannot be healthy.”

“Eden.”

Ignoring the warning in James’s voice as the dance carried her closer to him, Eden deliberately stomped on the back of the Duchess’s dress. Unaware, the lady moved and the fabric ripped.

“Oh dear, please forgive me, Duchess. How clumsy,” Eden cooed as she looked at the rent she had torn in the hem. She ignored the coughing fit James appeared to be having.

“Imbecile! Do you know how much this dress cost? Why, the fabric was imported from France!”

Eden just smiled, albeit through her teeth, and continued on with her partner.

“Country chit!” she heard the Duchess snap. “That girl is a heathen, as are her family.”

“Be warned that the Sinclair family are very important to me, Duchess, and I will not tolerate another word against any of them.”

James’s words made Eden feel warm all over; the Duchess, however, did not look pleased.

As soon as the dance ended James returned the furious Duchess of Abernathy to her friends and made a hasty departure before she attempted once again to get him into her bed. He shuddered thinking of bedding that viper.

He swallowed the swell of laughter over Eden’s behavior. There would be nothing easy about having her as his wife. She would love passionately and demand a great deal of him, and where before the thought had terrified him, now he could not wait.

Every part of him was aware of her. No more apathy or cold indifference. He was alive now, and wanted to stay that way. Waiting a few minutes, he sipped champagne, and then when he saw Eden return to Essie he made his move. He wanted to hold her and to do that, he would need to dance with her—at least until he could get her alone.

He smiled and bowed as he moved through the crowd, exchanging a few greetings on the way here and there. He was only a few feet from her when a hand gripped his shoulder. Spinning, he found Devonshire Sinclair looking at him intently. His eyes were wide, pupils large black dots, and James felt the tension in him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who were you with?”

“Pardon?”

“A few minutes ago, who were you talking to?”

“I danced with the Duchess of Abernathy, and then I drank a glass of champagne while Eden danced once again with another man that is not me, and now I am making my way to her side so that does not happen anymore this evening.”

“Someone evil was close to you, black with traces of deep red, menacing and evil.” Devon’s eyes had changed color, nearly black now, and his face was clenched and pale.

“How did you see that from across the room? There must have been hundreds of people between us?”

Around them people talked and laughed, yet James was focused solely on Dev. The man was not his usual calm self, something had disturbed him greatly.

“Are you in pain, Dev?”

“There were too many colors, and it was hard for me to take them all in.”

“Then why did you?” James moved to the man’s side, unsure what to do next.

“I had a feeling—a premonition that something was not right. I changed vision and found you, and then saw the color nearby. When I changed back and located you once more, you were alone.

“But surely there are others with my color.”

“Not exactly the same, no one is.”

“How do you know the person meant to harm me?”

“The color. Black is bad, and the red when mixed with it. Very bad coloring. I’ve only ever seen it twice. Once when I saw them taking a murderer to be hanged.”

“The other?”

Dev dropped his eyes briefly before once again looking at James.

“Your father. Our paths crossed briefly one day in Crunston Cliff.”

“Can you see him now, this man?” James said softly. He was not surprised his father had been colored in such a way, but he was surprised that the mention of him did not disturb as once it would have done.

Dev looked around them and shook his head. “I can’t go back into my other vision again. I would probably end up unconscious at your feet.”

“I am to dance with Eden but after that I think we should all leave,” James said, suddenly needing to get everyone he cared about out of the ballroom.

Dev gave a curt nod. “I will find the others. Dance and then out, Raven, no risks.”

This time it was James’s turn to nod as they parted. He cleaved a way through the people until he reached Eden. Touching her arm, he did not speak but led her to the floor. He felt a small measure of peace as she fitted into his arms; his heart stopped thumping and his body slowly unclenched.

“What has happened, James?”

He didn’t bother denying it. “Dev thought he saw someone close to me who was bent on harming me.”

Biting her lip, she moved closer to James. Curling her fingers into his jacket, she held him close.

“I’m here, love, no one is going to hurt you or me,” James whispered, his hand stroking her back. He saw the fear in her eyes, felt the sudden tension in her body, and hated that it was he who had put it there.

“I am scared for you, James. Promise me you will take no risks to find this person who wants you dead. Promise me, please.”

“All right, I promise,” he said, kissing her brow. “Now let me hold you close, Eden, and then when the dance finishes we must leave. Dev is gathering the others as we speak.”

Nodding, Eden pressed close and let him guide her up and down the room with the other couples. As the music drew to a close, he whispered to her, “I want you to say loudly that you have a headache, and of course I will escort you out.”

“Duke, I am afraid I feel most unwell,” she said as the music finished. “I fear I am about to faint,” she added, laying the back of her hand on her forehead like the heroine from a torrid novel.

“My dear Miss Eden, allow me to see you to your carriage at once,” James said, taking her arm.

“Oh my head!” she wailed.

“Don’t overdo it, love.”

She sniffed a few times but said nothing further.

They walked slowly up the stairs amidst murmurs and words of sympathy until they reached the top. Eden stumbled and James placed his arm around her waist.

“I am going to need my wits about me to wed you,” he said under his breath. “Your acting is most convincing.”

Eden did not speak as they made their way to the entrance, and then stepped out into the cool evening air. The carriages had already been called, and Dev, Cam, and Essie were waiting for them outside.

“Come, Cam, Essie, and I will take the second carriage, you and Eden take the first. Thankfully our aunt and uncle have already left.”

Soon they had begun the journey home. Eden sat pressed against James.

“Eden, it will be all right, I promise you.”

“How can you promise me that? We do not know who he is, this man determined on taking you from me.”

Lifting her onto his lap, he found a blanket and covered them both. Holding her close, he pressed her head to his chest.

“What did you do to stop thinking about your father? When he made you do things you didn’t want to do, how did you escape?” James tugged a curl free and wrapped it around his finger.

“I thought about riding along the cliffs of our home. Flying, free from him and his demands. It was just me and my horse and he could not take that from me.” She slipped her hand beneath his jacket to rest on his heart. “What did you do to escape your life?”

James lifted her chin and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“I climbed to the highest turret of the castle. I would stand there looking out over water and the village. I would see the tops of trees, and the winding road that to my mind led to freedom, and imagine how one day I would walk or ride it to escape him.”

“I hate your father for forcing a small helpless boy from his home to live in a world filled with adults who offered him no love and affection, but I am also relieved that when he did, you were not subjected to his vile, perfidious actions for a second longer.”

He kissed her again, their lips clinging almost in desperation.

“James, we are going to live a long happy life filled with love and laughter, and more affection than you can cope with,” she said, cupping his cheek. “We will give our children everything our parents did not, and then we will teach them to ride along the beach and climb trees—but we will be right there with them, my love, watching their every step.”

Blinking, James was surprised to feel the sting of tears. Eden’s eyes were so full of love and emotion, her words wrapping around him like a warm blanket and forming pictures of a future he had only imagined, and it was then he knew.

“God I love you, Eden.” He shuddered, burying his head in her neck. The words felt so right. “I have never said those words to anyone but Samantha before, but I need to say them now. Need you to understand what you have come to mean to me. I’m a fool for not realizing sooner.”

“I do understand, my love, and I will treasure them and you always.”

They clung to each other until the carriage pulled up outside his house. Kissing her once more, he then stepped down and helped her down behind him, as she would need to join her siblings in their carriage for the short journey to the Wynburg residence. The three Sinclair siblings were waiting for them before his front door.

“Cam will stay close and alert Mr. Brown of tonight’s events before you go to bed,” Dev said. “We will have a meeting after the picnic tomorrow and plan a strategy to flush this bastard out and get rid of him once and for all.”

“Picnic?” James said, latching on to that one word and not the fact that Devon was organizing a meeting without first asking him. He must be mellowing.

“Unfortunately it is unavoidable, James. It is the twins’ birthday tomorrow. They requested a picnic, and of course invited both you and Samantha,” Essie said.

“And I am just hearing about this now?”

“I had thought Samantha would have told you,” Eden said.

“She probably did,” he admitted. “I have been preoccupied.”

“Which is entirely understandable.” Her hand brushed his, and it felt natural for James to open it and let her fingers slip between his. Even here, with her siblings looking on.

“We have managed to convince them to go to the park at the end of the street. It is small and we should be safe there. Aunt and Uncle have organized staff to go early and set everything up. We shall all arrive at eleven o’clock.”

James nodded at Devon’s words. “Then of course we shall be there.” Reluctantly he released Eden’s hand after a final squeeze.

“I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me and Samantha.” He looked at Essie, Cam, and Dev. “I understand the Sinclair-Raven history, and that it spans many years, yet I know that this goes beyond that,” James said, shaking the Sinclair brothers’ hands before he bent to kiss Essie’s cheek.

“We care for our own,” Dev said before he and his sisters climbed back into their carriage and drove away, leaving Cam at his side.

James said the words, “I love you,” and hoped Eden heard as the carriage took her away from him. He felt raw and exposed now that he had allowed himself to truly see what he felt for Eden and her family.

“Come, James, a nightcap and a chat with Mr. Brown before we retire, I think,” Cam said, urging him into the house. James followed, his thoughts on the love he and Eden would lavish upon their children. Hope began to spread through his body. Hope for the future that had once been so bleak. A future he would share with her and their families.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“And do you think Dorrie and Somer will be happy with those necklaces, Samantha?” She wore buttercup yellow today with matching ribbons in her hair, and looked like every young child should—happy.

“Oh yes, James.”

His sister’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she walked beside him swinging his hand. It was natural and felt right and he wondered how the hell he had existed without her and the Sinclairs in his life. Especially Eden, his love.

“I wonder if they will have cherry cakes. They are Cam’s favorite you know, James.”

“Yes, they are, Samantha, and I expressly requested that my aunt’s cook make them, because I know they are a favorite of yours also.” Cam loped beside them with his long-legged stride.

The day had seemed unusually bright and sunny to James from the first moment he had opened his eyes. Letting people inside his heart had not resulted in the pain he had once thought it would; in fact, the opposite had happened. He felt lighter and unburdened.

They entered the park and walked along the path.

“Oh look, James!”

At his sister’s squeal of excitement James followed her gaze and found the Sinclairs. They had set up the picnic beside a pond and under a large tree, which would offer shade from the sun when it reached its peak in the middle of the day. A long table was laid with a bright blue cloth and loaded with food and drink.

The twins were dressed in blue, pink, and white. Seeing them approach, their little legs started running. Releasing his hand, Samantha did the same.

“Ahhh,” Cam sniffed the air. “The smell of food.”

James smiled as he found Eden. She was sitting on a blanket with a book in her hand and Warwick pressed to her side.

“Hello, my love.”

Her chin rose at his words, and the smile she gave him made his heart thud.

“Have mercy, Raven, I am due to eat, and that look you and my sister are sharing is making me nauseous.”

“Go away, Cam,” James said, making his way to where she sat and dropping down before her.

“Hello, Warwick,” he said with his eyes on Eden. Beneath the shade of the tree with dappled sunlight all around her, she looked almost magical.

“We have just finished reading the adventures of Captain Vesely, James, and now I am going to eat.”

The boy got to his feet and without a backward glance ran to the food-laden table.

“I dreamt of you.” James said cupping her cheek. “And woke up wanting you.”

“Soon,” she whispered, and he closed the distance and brushed his lips over hers in a brief kiss. “I love you, James.”

“And I you, Eden.”

He wanted to hold her, lay her down on the blanket and cradle her close, but of course he could not.

“Come.” James got to his feet and held out his hand. It was not done to be overly demonstrative with one’s fiancée, especially in public, and yet these were the Sinclairs. Very little was proper and correct with them, so he retained her hand as they walked.

“Happy birthday, Dorrie, Somer.”

“Oh, James,” they said in unison, holding up the necklaces Samantha had selected for them. “These are beautiful.”

They threw themselves at him and he caught them because they were his family now too, and besides, he rather thought he enjoyed being hugged.

They ate as the family teased and annoyed each other. He joined in when he could think of something to say, but for the most was content to watch. Samantha sat between him and Eden, and were it not for the man intent on killing him, James could say he was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

A game of hide-and-seek was decided upon once their food had settled.

“But you will not go far, and use the trees closest,” James cautioned the children and adults. “No one is to move out of shouting range, and I want the children in pairs.”

There were a few grumbles but surprisingly no one challenged him. It was decided that Lord and Lady Wynburg would stay by the tree and watch proceedings to check for any cheating.

“Of which there will be a great deal,” Eden told him. “We can’t do anything without cheating,” she added.

“I have much to learn it seems.”

“I shall teach you.” She gave him a secret smile.

“Watch and learn, James. I am something of a legend at this,” Cam said, as he jogged by with Warwick.

“What you have is an overinflated ego,” Eden said.

Lord Wynburg counted, Dev was to find them, and the rest of the party hurried to find places to hide. The three little girls were allowed to hide together, but only because Eden said she would be able to hear them wherever they wandered, simply because the twins had never worked out how to keep their voices down. James, Essie, and Eden were to hide alone.

“How does one choose a hiding place I wonder?”

Eden smiled as James spoke to himself, or perhaps her. He knew she had taken out her earplugs as the game began, believing it important to keep track of where everyone was. She hadn’t added that she liked to cheat if given the opportunity to do so.

Slipping behind some bushes, Eden forced herself inside one, ignoring the leaves and branches catching in her hair. Appearances were given no consideration when competing with family members. She settled in the middle and then listened. Warwick was grumbling that Cam was being too fussy, and any old tree would do. Dev was counting, their aunt and uncle chuckling over the goings-on. Essie was close, because she was humming softly. The little girls were giggling, but were some distance away.

She heard Dev stop counting and declare his intentions loudly, that he was coming to find them. Listening as the voices hushed, Eden tensed as she heard a scream. Forcing her way from the bushes took seconds, but once free she listened again, and this time heard the twins running, their voices raised in fear.

“Come quickly!” Eden cried as she picked up her skirts and ran in their direction. It was a matter of seconds before she rounded a tree and found them, legs pumping, hair flowing behind them. Dorrie and Somer were crying, their distress obvious. Eden’s heart chilled as she realized Samantha was not with them.

“A man, Eden!”

James arrived first, followed by the others.

“Where is Samantha!” he bellowed.

“The man, he grabbed her and ran, we t-tried to stop him!”

“Which way?” Dev bent to haul his sisters close.

“That w-way,” Somer managed to get out before bursting into loud sobs.

“Go to Aunt and Uncle, tell them what has happened, then insist they return to the house, Warwick.”

The boy nodded at Dev’s words, then taking his sisters’ hands, he started running.

“Everyone quiet!” Eden held up her hand as she started running in the direction her little sister had indicated. She felt James at her side. Dev charged forward, using his sight to search for Samantha’s colors. When they reached the gate, he held out his hands. The siblings quickly took hold, forming a small circle.

“Focus,” she whispered.

She felt the strength of her siblings flow through her as she sorted through the sounds around them. Carriage wheels, the clop of hooves, voices rising over other sounds. James breathed heavily behind her, and then she heard it, the soft whimper that belonged to Samantha.

“Left, there,” she said.

“I can see her,” Dev added. “Quickly!”

They were all running once more. James, Dev, and Cam were faster, with she and Essie at the rear.

Dev held up his hand as they reached another street, and the siblings all grabbed hands once more. Cam sniffed loudly, and Essie closed her eyes.

“She was carried past here, I smell the cherry cake she tucked in her pocket before the game,” Cam whispered

“I taste fear,” Essie added.

Eden lowered her head and focused. She could no longer hear Samantha, but the voice of a man. He was directing someone to drive fast.

“The carriage, it is coming this way and Samantha is inside!” Eden cried.

The three men, and Eden, pulled out their pistols. All lined the road, holding them before them. The driver saw them and yelled at them to move, but no one did.

“Stop or I shoot!” James roared.

Eden watched a head come out the window; seeing them, it ducked back inside. The carriage door then opened, and Samantha was held out, dangling from a pair of hands.

“No!” James ran forward with Eden on his heels. As the carriage drew near, the hands dropped the little girl, and Eden watched in horror as James dived forward, arms outstretched. The breath seized in her throat as he reached for his sister; catching her, he fell, turning so he took the impact with Samantha clasped in his arms.

“Eden move!”

Dev’s words galvanized her. She leapt off the road as the carriage sped by. Landing on her feet, she kept running until she reached James and Samantha.

“Dear God, please tell me you are unhurt!” She dropped to her knees. Samantha lay sprawled on her brother’s chest, his arms wrapped around her like two bands of iron.

“James, talk to me.” Eden’s words were desperate.

“I am unharmed.” His words were cold and clipped, anger evident in each.

“Eden, that m-man wanted to hurt me.”

Samantha’s tear-drenched face lifted to look at Eden.

“Oh, you poor little girl.” She stroked a trembling shoulder. “But do you remember what I told you once, about big brothers?”

Samantha looked down at James, who did not look inclined to release her, or indeed move from his current position in the gutter.

“That b-big brothers are very special people, because they t-take their responsibilities very seriously. Especially when it comes protecting their little sisters.”

“That’s right, and didn’t your big brother do exceptionally well today?”

“Oh yes.” The little girl managed a shaky smile. “He is the b-best big brother.”

James sat upright, cradling her. He then kissed the top of her head. “Are you all right, Samantha?” Each word sounded like it was wrenched from his chest.

“Yes, I am not hurt, but that man scared me.”

“He will not do so again, love.”

Eden saw the rage in her fiancé’s eyes as he looked over Samantha’s head.

“Come, you cannot sit in the street all day, Raven. To your feet, so we can check you are uninjured.”

James handed Samantha to Eden and took the hand Dev held out to him. He then silently took his sister back, and the child wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her head to his shoulder.

“Are you hurt, James?” Eden did not like the ice-cold look in his eyes.

“No.”

Gone was the happy, smiling man who had approached her at the picnic, replaced by the cold and unapproachable Duke.

“Come, we need to get back to your house, Raven.”

Dev’s words galvanized them and soon they were in the park once again.

“The carriage was not about to stop, so we jumped clear,” Eden heard Cam tell James. “It had no markings and was black all over. The driver had his hat pulled low, but I would recognize him should I encounter him again.”

“Can you tell us what happened, Samantha?”

“I don’t think that now—”

“Yes, James, now is the best time, her memory is fresh,” Dev insisted.

Eden walked at James’s side as Samantha haltingly told her story. It seemed the man had come up behind her, picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and started running. She had heard the twins screaming, but they could do nothing to stop him, even though she hammered on his back.

James soothed her as she talked, running a large hand up and down her spine.

“When we reached the carriage, he opened the door and threw me onto a seat. I bounced, and then we were moving.”

“Did the man say anything to you?”

“Nothing, Cam. He just said to the driver to hurry.”

“Did you see his face?”

Samantha shook her head. “I never looked at him until we were inside the carriage, and when I did, the lower half was covered.”

“Could you smell anything unusual,” Cam said. “Anything at all, Samantha?”

“Manure.” She wrinkled her nose. “The man smelt of m-manure.”

“Enough.” James said the word softly, but they all heard the threat. He did not want his sister upset any further. “Once again I am in your debt,” he added. “Thank you for coming to my sister’s aid today.”

As no one knew how to respond they remained silent. The family had gone; when they reached the picnic area only the servants were there, cleaning up. James continued walking, striding ahead with Samantha, and Eden could not match his long stride.

“Let him alone now, love. He is hurting and angry, he needs time to deal with all that emotion, as he is not a man used to it.”

“But I am to be wed to that man, Dev, and as such he should talk to me, surely? Or am I to live my life ‘giving him time?’“

The Sinclairs walked behind the Ravens, keeping them near the entire journey back. Once they reached James’s town house, Eden ignored her brothers’ efforts to stop her and hurried to reach him before he entered his house.

“James, shall I stay? Would you like me to help you with Samantha?”

He turned at her words, his eyes cold and distant.

“No, go home, Eden.”

“James, I am to be your wife, I want to—”

He glared. “I am aware of who you are, but at this moment, my sister takes precedence over everyone else in my life.”

“But I want to comfort her also.” Eden felt as if the ground were moving beneath her feet. She could not reach him, his intent only to push her away.

“She is my sister,” he snapped. “I do not need or want a Sinclair to help us.”

Eden stepped back at the fury in his words.

“Eden, that came out wrong, I did—”

She saw the moment clarity returned to his brown eyes, but she did not stop, instead turned from him to follow her family out the gates.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eden had slept badly. She was now sitting in her bedroom watching people pass by on the street below. Her thoughts were of course settled on James, and how he had turned away from her yesterday. “I do not need or want a Sinclair to help us.” Lord that had hurt.

Of course she had understood what he was dealing with; the intense reaction to nearly losing the sister he had only just learned to love had shaken him badly. But Eden had wanted him to turn to her in his pain. She was to be his wife. Was this to be their future together? Whenever something challenged the foundations of his life, was he to turn away from her?

Eden knew she could be a demanding person, but then who would not learn to be when they had been raised one of so many. She had understood early that to be heard she had to speak the loudest, had to ask the questions until she received the right answers. She also knew she could not live with a man who would not allow her into his life, a man who refused to share his burdens.

She had heard her brothers leave the house early, and knew they had gone to have a meeting with James about what must be done to find the man who intended on harming the Raven family. She was not included, supposedly because she was a woman whose opinion was of no consequence. The woman, she thought, who was to become a Raven.

With distance and hindsight, Eden realized she had not handled yesterday’s situation well. James was a novice at dealing with strong emotion, and she the exact opposite. She knew her faults, and patience had never been something she’d cultivated, so she had pushed him, instead of giving him time.

“Enter,” she called in answer to the knock on her door.

“I have brought us tea, and then you must change, as Lord Laurent is taking us driving in the park.”

In direct contrast to Eden, Essie looked refreshed and happy. Her green eyes sparkled, and she knew that love was the reason.

“Of course I should love to accompany you.” The distraction would do her good.

Essie lowered the tray to a small table, then pulled her chair close to Eden’s.

“You love James, and he you, Eden.”

“I know that, and I know I should not have pushed him yesterday. But I am to be his wife, Essie. I do not want him to pull away from me every time a situation arises that challenges him.”

She took the hand her sister held out to her.

“You are the most loving, passionate person I know, Eden. You give so much of yourself without a care of how it affects you. I have faith that you and James will come to understand each other, and in time he will not turn away from you when he is gripped by strong emotions.”

“Are you sure, Essie?”

“Very. The man loves you to distraction, and if that alone is not enough, then Dev will beat him into submission.”

“I hope you are right,” Eden sighed. “Not about Dev beating him up, but the first part.”

“I know I am right. Now enough of this moping. It is a beautiful day, and I wish to go driving with Lord Laurent.” Essie regained her feet and headed for the door. “So ready yourself, and put on your prettiest dress, as I may direct him to drive by James’s house in the hope he is standing at his window.”

Eden laughed as her sister wanted her to, although they both knew her heart was not in it. She then called for Grace and got herself ready.

…

“You look beautiful today, ladies.”

“Thank you, kind, sir,” Essie smiled across the carriage to where Lord Laurent sat. The look in his eyes confirmed everything Eden already believed. The man was in love with her sister.

Looking out the window, Eden let the couple talk while her thoughts returned to James. She would send him a note upon her return home, and ask that he pay her a call. She loved him, and with love came compromise, so she would make the first move to breach the gap yesterday’s events had placed between them.

“Are you to attend the Langley Ball, this evening, my lord?”

“I am afraid I have other plans, Miss Essex.”

Eden knew Essie had a new dress to wear tonight, and that she had chosen it expressly to please Lord Laurent.

“I shall miss you, my lord.”

“And I you.”

Eden managed to swallow her sigh. It was not easy feeling low and listening to two people so obviously in love.

You are pathetic Eden Sinclair!

They had been driving a while, when she noticed they were not heading toward the park. In fact the streets were not familiar to her at all.

“Lord Laurent, I believe your driver has taken a wrong turn.”

Unease suddenly gripped Eden as the smile fell from his lips at her words.

“All will be explained in due course,” he said bending to retrieve something from under the seat, and as he straightened, in his hand was a pistol.

“Louis!” Essie cried. “What are you doing?”

“My name is not Louis.

Before their eyes, the man they had always known as Lord Laurent changed. His face, which before had seemed open and honest, was now twisted into a menacing mask.

“Explain yourself, sir!” Eden demanded.

“It is quite simple, Eden. I am going to kill you and your betrothed is going to watch you die before his eyes.”

“No, Louis. Please stop this foolery, you are scaring me!”

His eyes passed over Essie as if she were nothing to him.

“Louis, we love each other!”

“I don’t love you, Miss Sinclair. You were simply a means to an end. Do not call me Louis again.”

“No!”

Eden reached for her sister as she cried out.

“You were a foolish woman to believe my lies. Foolish and gullible.”

Rage had Eden lashing out with her foot. She connected with his hand, sending the pistol flying, and momentarily distracting him.

“Open the door, Essie!”

She managed to fling it open seconds, later, and Eden was right behind her.

“Jump!”

Essie did not hesitate, leaping from the carriage. Just as Eden prepared to follow hands hauled her back inside, and the door was slammed shut.

“I think not, Miss Sinclair.”

He grabbed her, wrestling her beneath him onto the seat.

“Time for you to sleep now.”

She struggled as a cloth was placed over her nose and mouth, but the fumes made her head swim, and slowly she closed her eyes and slumped to the floor.

...

“Hello, James.”

“Hello, Samantha,” James said, looking over his paper as his sister skipped in. “You appear to have recovered from your ordeal yesterday.”

“I was scared briefly while that horrid man had me, but I kept telling myself over and over that you would not let him harm me—and you did not. Therefore, I am scared no longer.”

The resilience of youth, James thought. He wished for his sister’s ability to push aside yesterday’s incident. The memory of her being taken from him was still vivid in his head.

“Dev and Cam have just visited with me and are now taking tea in the breakfast room.”

“Now there’s a surprise,” James muttered, rubbing his chest. He suddenly felt a tight pain there, a stabbing as if someone were sticking pins into him.

“They told me that they were my new brothers and that if at any time I needed you but could not find you, then I was to go to them and they would help me.”

“Did they?” he said, folding the paper slowly and precisely. It gave him a warm feeling knowing that if something happened to him the Sinclair men would step in and protect his little sister. He also knew they would love her as if she were theirs.

Hadn’t they shown that love yesterday, when they had used their senses and hunted her down? James realized he had not thanked them near enough for what they had done for him and Samantha. Instead he had abused their sister, the woman he loved, and turned her away.

“Yes, and they said they also get to tease me like they do their siblings and that I can tease them back.”

“Excellent, we will put our heads together to find something for you to tease them about after my meeting with them,” James said, standing because his chest was now burning.

“James, you were not very nice to Eden yesterday, and as I like her and want her to live with us, I want you to apologize.”

“I was scared, Samantha.” James dropped to his haunches before her. “I reacted badly and pushed Eden away.”

“You love her very much, don’t you?”

“I do. So much that I’m worried that once again I have ruined everything.”

Samantha placed a hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes.

“She loves you, so she will forgive you. But I think you should buy her something nice just to be sure.”

“When did you grow up?”

“Cam taught me.”

“Now that is a frightening thought.” Standing, he kissed the top of her head and led her from the room. Handing her over to her companion, he then changed direction and headed to where Cam and Dev awaited him.

Before he could reach them, James heard the thunder of feet. Looking up, he noted Dev in the lead with Cam hot on his heels; both wore fierce expressions, and James was instantly on alert.

“What?” he demanded when they reached him.

“Someone is in trouble!” Dev said, stepping around him and running to the front doors.

“Who?” James said, falling in behind Cam.

“Don’t know, but we both felt it.”

“Eden!” he said, overtaking Cam and shooting out of his front door behind Dev. “It’s Eden!” he roared, coming level with the eldest Sinclair.

“How do you know?” Dev wheezed, still sprinting.

“Ch-chest... stabbing pains.”

Neither spoke again, arriving at the Wynburg house minutes later.

“P-Pennyroll, get everyone here at once!”

If the butler was surprised by the three men, all bent double and gasping for air in the entrance way of his master’s home, he did not show it. Closing the front door he said, “Lord and Lady Wynburg are visiting Admiral Eales at the present time, Lord Sinclair.”

Somer, Dorrie, and Warwick stopped further conversation as they appeared at the top of the stairs. James saw the worry on their faces, and felt the pain in his chest increase.

He had turned away from Eden yesterday, simply because he had always dealt with anything challenging by himself. The fear of Samantha’s abduction had been unbearable, so he had shut down, and hadn’t known how to reach out and ask for help from the woman he loved. Rubbing his chest, he tried to ease the pain that seemed to be burning a hole straight through him.

“Where is Eden, Pennyroll?”

“Lord Laurent called this morning to take Miss Sinclair and Miss Eden driving, your Grace.”

“Then surely they are safe?” Cam said.

“Essie is coming, Dev.”

All eyes turned to Warwick as he spoke. It was Cam who dropped to his knees before the boy.

“How do you know Essie is coming, Warwick? Where is she?”

The young boy looked at his sisters, they in turn nodded and then he spoke.

“She’s close, I can hear her yelling.”

James was suddenly aware that the Sinclairs had gone very still; even the little ones were silent and looking at their feet. The eldest was the first to move. Wrenching open the front door, Devon went to find his sister.

“How do you know she is yelling, Warwick?” Cam said slowly.

“I can hear her.”

“No!”

“It’s true, Cam, he can hear,” Somer said.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on?” James demanded.

“How long have you been able to hear like Eden, Warwick?” Cam rasped.

“Our senses are not strong yet. But he can hear, I can taste, and Dorrie can smell,” Somer whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to be upset.”

“Christ!” Cam groaned, grabbing all three of them and hugging them tight in his arms. The children burrowed into him, sniffling.

“Eden, Cam!” James roared. “Where is she and what the hell is going on?”

“I heard her talking to him—Lord Laurent—but I couldn’t hear everything because Dorrie and Somer were singing. Just that he was taking Essie and Eden driving,” Warwick said when his brother had released him to stand once again.

Behind them someone knocked on the open door and they all turned as one. Pennyroll stepped around the family to intercept whoever was there.

“A Mr. Spriggot is here, your Grace, and wanting to speak to you with some expediency,” Pennyroll said, as if they had not all heard the man talking just two feet away.

“Let him in.”

Mr. Spriggot stopped just inside the door, his face showing surprise at seeing such a gathering in the front entrance. Next through the door was an ashen faced Essie in the arms of her brother.

“What has happened, Essie?” Cam stepped to her side.

“L-Lord Laurent,” she sobbed. “H-he is not who we think, Cam. He had a gun, and then Eden urged me to jump from the c-carriage, but she d-did not follow.”

Dear god, not Eden. Please don’t let her be hurt. The thought nearly dropped James to his knees.

“Lord Laurent!”

James spun to Mr. Spriggot, who had said the name in shocked tones, which could only be a bad thing.

“Speak, Mr. Spriggot. If my fiancée is in danger then we must move quickly.”

“Lord Laurent is not his real identity, your Grace. His mother was Miss Tolly and she was your father’s mistress—”

“I know who she was, Mr. Spriggot,” James said, his mind whirling in circles. Louis was his half brother and he was going to harm Eden to get to him. What other reason would he have for hiding his identity?

“He said he would k-kill Eden while you watched, James.” All eyes turned to Essie as she slumped into her brother’s arms. Cam cradled her against his chest as if she were a small child.

“I’ll kill him if he harms her!” James’s words shook with rage and fear.

“Where would he take her, Spriggot?” Dev said urgently.

“I have located his sister, your Grace. She lives here in London. Perhaps she can shed some light on where her brother has taken your sister, Lord Sinclair.”

“Get whatever you need to travel,” James told the Sinclairs. “We leave as soon as I have the horses readied.” He ran out the door.

He tried to focus as he sprinted back to his house. She would be safe until he got to her. He would not hurt her, not Louis; surely he had no reason to harm Eden, as it was James that he wanted. He tried not to think of the attempts on his life, the ruthless ability of a man to throw another bound hand and foot into the sea alive.

“Eden!” he whispered, praying that she could hear him, but knowing he was fooling himself. Please don’t take her from me. He felt the emotionless man he had once been slide back into place. Could he live like that again? Be forced into the dark, when he now knew what it felt like to live in the light.

Throwing open his front door, he surprised his butler, who was moving an arrangement of flowers.

“Buttles! Have three of my best horses brought to Lord Wynburg’s house at once!”

“Right away, your Grace.”

He fired out several other orders about coats and hats then took the stairs two at a time to his office.

He pushed his knife into his boot, then armed himself with two pistols and supplies to fire them. Lastly he pulled a pouch of money from his desk.

“James, has something happened?” Samantha had entered behind him.

“Someone has taken Eden, Samantha, and I must go now and get her back.”

He watched the old fears flit across her young face, and hated that it was he who had put them there. Pulling her into his arms he held her close

“We will return, sweetheart, but until then Jane will take you to stay with Warwick, Somer, and Dorrie, and I want you to stay with them and Lord and Lady Wynburg until I return,” he said, releasing her.

“I love you, James. Promise that you and Eden will come home safe.”

“I promise, and I love you too.”

Samantha nodded and then ran from the room with James on her heels. Reaching the front entrance, he shrugged into his coat and hat, then took his gloves and went outside. Mr. Brown was mounted and leading James’s horse; a groom held two others.

“I thought you could use my help, your Grace. I’m a fair shot.”

“My thanks” was all James said as he swung into the saddle.

“Buttles, escort my sister and her companion to Lord and Lady Wynburg at once. I am unsure when I will return, and she will stay there until I do.”

“At once, your Grace, and God be with you.”

In minutes they were at the Wynburg residence, where Dev, Cam, and Essie waited for them outside. Essie was lifted by Dev to ride behind Cam, her face pale yet composed, a satchel on her back.

As a small somber group they rode through London. Slowly the houses lost their grandness and grew shabby, pressing closer together and stacked one on top of the other, until finally they stopped before a small building.

“This is the address Spriggot gave us,” Mr. Brown said.

“Stay with Essie, Cam, you too, Mr. Brown. Devon and I will go and visit with Tolly’s sister.”

“She is your sister also, James,” Dev said, knocking on the worn front door. The place was dismal and dark even though the sun still sat high in the sky.

“I am aware of that,” James said, rubbing his chest. He watched the door open slowly. A young woman the same height as Eden looked up at them. She could only be Louis’s sister; the blue eyes and blonde hair were identical. And your sister, James added.

“Can I help you?”

“Miss Tolly?”

“Yes.” She nodded, looking anxious, her eyes flitting from James to Dev then back again.

“We are looking for your brother, Miss Tolly,” James said.

“I—I am afraid he is not here.”

“I am the Duke of Raven, Miss Tolly. Your half brother.”

Her fingers gripped the door, knuckles white as she stared at him. “I believe your brother has abducted my fiancée and I must find her. Please help us.”

“Oh Louis, no!” Her moan was that of a wounded animal as she stumbled backward and fell to her knees, sobbing. James stepped forward and knelt beside her.

“Miss Tolly, please don’t cry. We shall try to return your brother to you unharmed, but I must find my fiancée.”

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him.

“H-he never recovered fr-from our mother’s death, you see,” she whispered. “The D-Duke would not help us and Louis could d-do nothing for her. It destroyed him, your Grace.”

“Where would he go?”

“The church at Raven Castle,” she whispered. “It was as close as he could get to the castle. He would go there at night when no one could see him, and sit and plot his r-revenge upon your family.”

James did not wait to ask further questions. Lifting her to her feet, he held her shoulders between his hands, forcing her to look up at him.

“I am your brother, Miss Tolly,”

“Emily,” she whispered.

“I realize our father gave you no reason to trust the word of a Raven, yet I would ask you to do just that, Emily. I will come for you upon my return, I promise,” James added, placing a kiss on her forehead. Closing the door behind him as he left, James and Dev ran to their horses.

“Raven Castle!” Dev barked as they mounted, and they were soon on the road out of London.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eden woke feeling dizzy and nauseous. Her wrists and feet were bound and a piece of cloth was tied around her mouth, forcing it open. Her eyelids felt heavy as she opened them. She was lying on her side on the floor of a carriage that was travelling at speed. The curtains were drawn, but she knew that night had fallen, which suggested she had been asleep—drugged for some time. She was alone in the carriage. She could hear no one else breathing so Lord Laurent—or whoever he was—was either on horseback or sitting with the driver.

Struggling into a sitting position, she turned and wedged her feet against the opposite seat and pushed herself up and onto the seat at her back. She wriggled her wrists, but they were bound tight. Now she was awake, the gag was making her choke, and it was a struggle to inhale. Slumping sideways, Eden closed her eyes again. Her head was aching from whatever foul thing that man had made her breathe.

At least Essie had escaped, and Eden prayed she had not harmed herself when she jumped from the carriage. Did James and her family know she had been abducted yet? Had her sister made it back and told them? How would they find her? Fighting down the swell of panic, Eden knew she could not let it overwhelm her if she was to somehow get out of this situation. Where was he taking her? Eden didn’t know how long she lay there in the dark with thoughts tumbling through her head.

Her family would not stop until they found her, but what of James? No, he loved her, he would be distressed that she was missing. Eden may have been hurt by his behavior yesterday, but in this cold, dark carriage, she realized that it was he she wanted most. She needed the strength he gave her when he held her in his arms. She would not allow herself to doubt they would find her, for that path lead to fear and tears, and she could not go to that place yet.

Their senses would lead them to her, she just had to be strong and stay alive until they did.

When Eden woke the second time, the carriage had stopped. Her body ached but her head was now clear. Her eyes went to the open curtains, and she saw early morning mists out of the window.

“I have food and drink for you, Eden.”

The man she had known as Lord Laurent stepped into the carriage and sat opposite her. In his hand was a wooden bowl. His eyes were narrowed, face taut, and she wondered how he had fooled them all for so long.

“I will feed you, as I do not trust you enough to release your bonds.” He pulled the gag from her mouth.

Eden breathed deeply and then glared at him.

“I want nothing from you.”

“That is your loss. It worries me not if you go hungry.”

She watched him as one would a venomous animal.

“No questions, Eden? Have I at last found a woman who can hold her tongue?”

“If you have kidnapped me in the hopes of luring James to your side, then think again. Yesterday we argued after you attempted to take his sister from under his nose, and I doubt he will miss me overmuch.”

“He loves you, so he will come.”

“I will see you pay for what you have done to my sister.” She hissed the words at him.

“Your sister is a gullible fool. How she could believe a man like I would love her is beyond belief.”

Eden wanted to lunge at him, scratch his handsome face, and make him pay for the pain he had inflicted on those she loved.

“Are you not curious as to who I am, and why I want to kill your precious Duke?”

She saw it then, the madness that haunted his eyes.

“Why do you want to harm the man I love?” she whispered.

“Because of what he did to my family,” he spat out. “My mother died writhing in agony because of that man.”

“You are James’s half brother,” Eden realized.

“The Ravens are no kin of mine!” he roared. “They forfeited that right when the Duke turned us away when my mother needed help. I will have retribution for her death—I will,” he vowed.

“James is not responsible for his father’s actions. You would make an innocent man pay for a death he had no hand in?”

“He has lived a good life, now it is time for him to die. No other of his blood will be Duke. I will make sure of it.”

His simmering hatred had robbed his mind of all but vengeance, and Eden knew she would never be able to reason with him.

“Y-you will not succeed.”

“Of course I will succeed. Your beloved will ride to your side, and I will kill you before his eyes, and then him.”

“N-no.” She tried to lunge at him, but he simply pushed her back to the seat, and once again she felt her head spin as he placed a cloth over her face.

...

They rode through the night, with a change of horses at each stop. Mr. Brown organized food at each inn or posting house, they ate and drank while standing, and then mounted and rode hard once more.

James could think of nothing but Eden. The thought of never seeing her smile again, or touching her hair and hearing her laugh, was a physical pain inside him. His chest ached as if a hot poker were pressed against it.

“The innkeeper said a carriage and a man of Tolly’s description came through here two hours ago,” Mr. Brown said, stepping outside the inn’s doors. His face wore fatigue, as did they all, his clothes covered in dust and dirt. Behind him came two servants, one carrying a tray with five large pieces of pie, and another with mugs of ale and one of tea.

“The castle is five hours from here; we should arrive as he does, if not just after,” Dev said, shooting James a look.

Nodding, James took a piece of pie and the cup of tea and went to Essie, who had not complained once since the journey began many hours ago. She had sat behind Cam, stoic and composed when he knew inside that his half brother had shattered her heart into tiny pieces. She was slumped on a mounting block, her head lowered, shoulders hunched, fatigue and defeat in every line of her body. Her brothers had tried to protect her as best they could, tried to talk with her, and yet she had remained silent, like he, locked behind a wall of agony.

“Eat this, Essie,” James said, handing her the plate. She shook her head and reached for the tea.

“I will have your brothers hold you and we will feed you this pie one bite at a time if you do not willingly eat it,” he added in a firm voice. “You will do your sister no favors if you faint before we reach her. Should she need you, then you must be strong enough to help, Essie, and when I get my hands on that bastard who has her, I am sure you, like me, will have a few things to say to him.”

The look she sent him was filled with anguish. Her eyes were bloodshot and she suddenly appeared much older than she had yesterday.

“Essie, you will survive this because you have family who love you, family who would give their life for yours. Take their strength and hold it around you and know that you are not alone.”

“I’m so scared, James, scared that I let this man into my heart when he is so evil.”

“He fooled us all, Essie.”

“I am scared that such a man, one so desperate for revenge he took the steps he did to secure it, has my sister. I want her back now, need her here with me.”

“I know, Essie,” James said, reaching for her hand. “I know your fears, for they mirror my own. My last words to Eden were angry bitter ones that I had no right to speak. I hurt the woman I love deeply, Essie, yet I cannot think about that. Only that Eden needs our strength. She needs us to stand up and fight for her and what we have.”

“What do we have, James?” she whispered as the tears once again fell down her pale cheeks.

“Family, Essie. Family and love, and after years of living without either I am not about to lose what I have only just found. So fight with me, Essie.”

She squeezed his hand one last time then took the pie and started eating.

James rose and returned to the men, where he gulped down his ale and then started in on his pie.

“Thank you.”

Mouth full of beef and pastry, both of which tasted like ashes, James turned to look at the eldest Sinclair.

“I spoke the truth.”

“Perhaps,” Dev said, tipping his tankard and downing the last mouthful. “Yet what you said was what she needed to hear. However, from Cam or I it would not have held the same meaning, and for that we are grateful.”

Nodding, James remained silent and kept eating. Was Eden well? Was Tolly treating her badly? Was she scared or hurt? Had she cried out for him? God, it was torture not knowing.

His beautiful Eden was feisty and strong, yet today he knew she had felt fear. She would know her brothers would come for her, but after yesterday did she fear he would not? God, he hoped not.

I’m coming, my love.

“Mount up!”

James took the fresh horse and placed a foot in the stirrup at Dev’s words. He felt no fatigue or pain as he swung into the saddle. His body had gone from ice to a slow burning rage as the miles passed. He would find Tolly and kill him. He felt no remorse for the act he was about to commit. Tolly had dared to harm Samantha yesterday, and now Eden. The two people he loved most in this world. Therefore, he would die, just as he had chosen to kill James. Brothers they may be, but there was nothing but a blood tie between them. Any friendship he had once believed they shared was long since left behind in the glittering ballrooms of London society.

The pace was relentless, if possible even more so now they neared their destination. They all had the same goal. Eden would be saved. James would allow himself to think of no other outcome, except perhaps of his own death. He would sacrifice himself for her if there was no other option. He felt no qualms about this.

Looking to his left, he saw the determination on the Sinclairs’ faces. Even Mr. Brown, Joseph, as they had come to know him over the miles they had ridden, was determined.

“The cliffs!”

James saw them rise before him as Cam called out. The rugged beauty of the rock face and whitecaps of the waters below failed to stir him as they usually did. He saw the gulls swooping and diving, seeking their prey, and memories of the night he had first met Eden rose inside him. From the start she had shown him the kind of person she was. The selfless woman who loved him.

Following the line of rock, they veered right and headed for the small town of Crunston Cliff. Thundering through, they acknowledged no one as people ran to see who rode through their village in haste. Passing Oak’s Knoll, James spared a glance at the castle that loomed above them before drawing to a halt.

“We will ride to the first rise and then walk to the church, as I have no wish for Tolly to hear us arrive,” James said.

The ride took just minutes and James dismounted and tethered his horse. The others followed. The hill formed two tiers—the first held the church and graveyard where his ancestors lay, and on the level above sat the castle. James knew she was near; the pain in his chest had increased. Pushing aside branches, he kept close to the mountain, slowly circling the hill to reach the church.

“Eden, love, I am here with your brothers. We are coming for you, be brave.” James spoke as loud as he dared.

“She will have heard our horses, James.” Devon Sinclair moved to his side. “In fact, if she has removed her earplugs she probably heard us riding up the mountain, unless Tolly was speaking.”

They climbed and finally the church was before them. On their bellies they studied the small building.

“Joseph, stay at the back with Essie,” Dev ordered. “Should Tolly escape, shoot him.”

“Very well, my lord.”

Crouching, James, Dev, and Cam moved closer. The three men held guns, all ready to use them without hesitation to ensure Eden’s safe return.

The church sat near the edge. Built of stone, its foundations had formed part of this hill for hundreds of years. Ravens had been wed and buried here, children had been baptized, and until his father became Duke, villagers had also used it. James vowed they would do so again. Shafts of sunlight pushed through the clouds and touched the weathered honey-colored stone.

James wondered if the peace and beauty before him was about to be tarnished with his death.

His home loomed above like an elderly grandfather overseeing its grandchild. He had never hated this place, only the man who had lived in it.

“He is inside,” Dev whispered from beside him. “I see him.”

“Eden?”

“She is there. Her color is strong.”

James’s heart thudded in his chest as relief pumped through him.

“I’m here, love.”

“Something does not smell right,” Cam said, moving forward, his nose in the air. “Dev, grip my hand.”

James watched the brothers, Dev’s pupils huge and Cam with his head thrown back.

“I smell poison in there. Poison and fear.”

“Why would he need poison?” Dev looked at his brother.

“My first thought is he wants to make sure my death is slow and painful,” James said.

“We shall try not to let that happen,” Dev gritted out.

“You two circle the outside. There is a small door at the rear that is always left open. I will go in through the front and distract him, as it is me he wants,” James said calmly.

“It is highly dangerous for you to do so, yet I can come up with no other plan,” Dev whispered. “If he tries to shoot, then for pity’s sake duck. Keep him talking as long as you can, which will allow us time to get inside. I believe from their position they are at the altar, and as Eden is not moving I think he has her tied to something.”

“Take no risks with Eden, I want her out of there before you save me.” James needed the brothers to understand that she was their main concern.

“We will save you both, Raven,” Cam looked fierce.

“She is more important than me,” James said. “I—I must have your word that you get her to safety before you—”

“She is our sister, Raven, we are aware of her importance,” Dev hissed. “Yet we are also aware of your importance to us and her. Therefore, brother, we will save you both.”

James looked at Dev for long seconds, then with one curt nod he turned and walked toward the church. He was aware of the sound his boots made upon the narrow drive and then as they hit the stone floor at the entrance. Gripping the handle, he felt the strength of his ancestors flow through him, and wrenched it open.

“You have come, brother, how kind!”

Light from a round stained-glass window high in the wall at the back of the church lit the altar. James blinked to adjust his vision and searched for Eden. She was standing tied to the large cross beneath it. Tolly stood beside her. In one hand he held a vial of liquid, the other a gun.

“Let her go, Tolly, it is me you want.”

“If only life were that simple, brother,” the man said, chuckling.

“I am sorry your mother suffered because our father would not help her, Tolly. But Eden is not responsible for his deeds, just as I am not,” James said, moving slowly forward.

“With you dead his precious untainted bloodline will be snuffed out, Raven, and only then will my vengeance be complete.”

“Let Eden go.”

“Ah, now there I am afraid I cannot oblige you, brother.”

James wondered how he had been so fooled by the man. This madman before him now bore only a physical resemblance to the Lord Laurent he and society knew. Gone was the perpetual smile and charm, replaced by narrowed eyes behind which James could see madness.

“Your father told me when I went to beg him to help my mother that I was not fit for him to step on, and she was nothing but a whore who had spread her legs for any man. Therefore, how was he to know if indeed I was his son.”

James clenched his fists. He had thought he could not hate his father more—it seemed that he was wrong.

“I was told that you were his heir, a fine specimen of untainted pure blood, and that his precious line would live long through your pure well-bred children.”

“I am not my father, Tolly, as you very well know.”

“Yet you will pay for his sins, brother, because he is not here to do so.”

“Emily is worried about you,” James said, looking at Eden. He saw the fear etched in every line of her body, and also the anger that matched his. She struggled to break her bonds. A gag kept her quiet and James struggled to see through the red haze of rage as he saw a streak of blood on her lip. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it down once more. He would not help her if he did not remain focused.

“Stay still, my love, I will get you out of here safely.” She must have heard his whispered words, because her struggles instantly ceased.

“Stay away from her. I will care for my sister!”

“I have no wish to harm your sister, Tolly. I wish only for Eden’s safety,” James said, moving steadily forward. “In fact, I would like to help both you and your sister, see that you are comfortable.”

“I would not have needed to take your beloved had I succeeded in my attempts to take your sister, yet you and the bloody Sinclairs foiled that.”

“My sister is a child, Tolly!”

“As was I when I approached your father.”

“Let me help you and Emily. Let me give you money, a house, anything you want,” James said, trying to remain calm.

“We need nothing from a Raven!” Tolly spat. “Now move forward slowly and kneel before your precious Miss Sinclair.”

He did as he was asked. Slowly and steadily he walked until he stood before her.

“Be strong, my love,” he whispered.

“Down!” Tolly screeched, using the butt of his gun to hit James in the back of the head.

He heard her groan, but he did not flinch, merely did as he was directed. The second hit made him grunt, and she fought furiously against her bonds.

“I’m all right, Eden. Stay calm, love.”

“Do you know what is in this vial, Raven?” Tolly said, shaking it before James’s eyes. “‘Tis poison. Your last vision will be of your beloved as she drinks it. You will die knowing she will suffer an agonizing death while you lie bleeding at her feet.”

“No!” James heard the rattle of the back door, and knew he had been wrong. It was locked. He struggled to stand, lurching toward the vial. The gun fired, and he felt a burning in his arm. It knocked him backward.

“Drink it now or I shoot him dead before your eyes!”

James reached his knees as Tolly wrenched the gag from her mouth.

“James, be still!” she cried as he got to his feet. He saw Tolly had another pistol now in his hand.

“Don’t drink it, Eden, he will kill me anyway!” He kept his eyes on her, begging her to listen to him.

“Drink it or I shoot him dead, now, with you watching.”

“No, Eden!” James lunged at her as she opened her mouth, but Tolly had already lifted the vial. He dove to the floor at her feet as the gun discharged, but this time he felt no pain, the shot had missed him.

The thud of feet told James the brothers had arrived. Tolly took a bullet in the chest, and the impact threw him backward, his body hitting the wall then slumping motionless to the floor, the vial shattering at his feet.

“The bastard locked the back door!” Cam roared. “Christ, he shot you!” He reached for James as Dev reached for his sister.

“Poison!” James rasped. “He made her drink poison,” he said, staggering to his feet and reaching for Eden as Dev freed the last of her bonds.

“Essie!” Dev roared.

“Eden, God, love.” James shuddered, crushing her against him.

“I-I had to take it,” she whispered. “I could not live if you died.”

“Nor can I! Damn you, Eden, you will not leave me!” James roared as he felt her body grow limp.

“L-love you,” she whispered.

“It’s white arsenic!” Cam yelled, sniffing the bottle. “A large dose!”

“James, stick your fingers down her throat!” Essie screamed, running into the church. “We need to purge her of the poison,” she added, ignoring the lifeless form of the man she had loved to drop to her knees beside her sister.

Rolling Eden onto her side, Dev pried her mouth open and James stuck two fingers inside. She retched and retched, but it took several attempts before anything came out.

“Cam, take me to Oak’s Knoll now. I will find the herbs we need to rid her system of the rest of it,” Essie said, throwing her sister one last agonized look before she ran from the church. “Follow us, Dev, quickly!” she cried over her shoulder, and then she was gone.

Ignoring the fire burning through his arm, James picked Eden up and followed her siblings. She lay limp against him as he rode toward her home, no life in her body, no fire in her eyes. “Stay with me, Eden. Please, love, hold on.”

One of the brothers who served the Sinclair family awaited them on the steps of Oak’s Knoll, his face lined with worry as they rode up. Taking Eden from James, he ran into the house with James and Dev following. They placed her on a bed.

“How is her color, Dev?” Essie asked from her place beside the fire.

“Pale.”

“What does that mean, pale?” James demanded.

“She is weak,” Essie said, carrying a small cup to the bed. “Dev, open her mouth for me. James, hold her head.”

Between them they managed to force down the contents of the cup by massaging her throat between sips. Her cough was weak, and her eyes were now only half open.

“Eden, love. Tell me what you feel?” Essie said.

“M-my h-hands,” she whispered.

“Arsenic makes the hands and feet tingle.” Essie wiped away a tear as she stood and looked down at her sister.

James was numb with fear as he watched Eden struggle to breathe. The pulse on her wrist seemed to grow weaker with every breath she drew.

“How long, Essie? How long before we know if it has worked?”

Essie grabbed her sister’s other hand and kissed it.

“The poison shuts down her system. Her stomach will cramp and we shall know soon if—”

“She will live,” James vowed.

No one spoke as they watched Eden silently struggle to breathe as she clung precariously to life.

“Can you not do something—your senses, surely they…?”

“None of us have the power to heal by touch, James,” Essie said quietly. “It is the one sense we do not have.”

“And now, your Grace, we shall see to your arm,” Bertie said.

“My arm?”

“‘Tis bleeding, your Grace. Miss Essex will make a paste and bandage it.”

He let them tend him, yet he did not move from his place beside Eden.

“The bullet has gone straight through, James.” Essie’s words did not register with him as he watched his fiancée. James was sure her breathing was growing weaker. She was so still, all color had leeched from her face. Tangled and messed, her hair lay around her head in a dark cloud. Eden was never still; even when she was sitting, often her hands moved or her feet tapped. She was the fire to his ice. The one who was filled with life, the one who had taught him how to love.

“Now take this, your Grace, ‘tis merely a warm drink to stop the infection, nothing more.”

He took the drink Bertie handed him yet still his eyes stayed on Eden. At some stage over the next few hours someone pushed him into a chair beside her, but he still held her hand and looked at her face. He heard them murmuring, watched Essie touch her cheek and check her pulse. Dev looked at her, his eyes filled with grief, yet James wouldn’t move. She would live, she had to live. If she died she would commit him to a life of hell.

“Her breathing has grown shallow.”

James watched as Essie stood over Eden, checking her pulse. Behind her Cam and Dev, their faces solemn, watched over their sister.

“No,” James said softly. “No, she is not leaving us.” He climbed onto the bed and lifted Eden into his arms.

“All of you touch her. Your skin to hers. Now!” he roared, when they failed to move. “The power of this family can heal her. I believe in you all. Now hold her, damn you. Give her your love and strength.”

Dev grabbed Eden’s arm. Pushing up her sleeve, he wrapped both hands around it. Cam reached for a leg, clasping her ankle in his hands. Essie gripped Eden’s other hand.

“Focus,” James said quietly, and then he began to talk to Eden, urging her back from the hell she had slumped into.

“Do you remember when we talked of the places we would go in our heads when we were frightened or alone, Eden? You told me you rode along the cliffs, and I climbed the castle’s highest turret.” He listened to the small wheeze of her breath before he continued. “I can’t go there anymore, love, because you are my happy place. My reason for waking, the reason I now exist. Yes, I have Samantha, but you, my love… you are my everything.” Grabbing a handful of her curls, he wrapped them around his fist. “In the short time you have been in my life I have known such happiness. You have filled all the dark places in me, given me hope and shown me how to laugh. You meet me head-on, love, challenge and chastise me. I know now what it means to find that one true love and to lose you would be to spend the rest of my days wandering in purgatory, waiting to meet you again. Don’t leave me, Eden,” he said, burying his face in her hair and releasing the tears that burned behind his eyes. Cradling her against him, he rested on the pillows, his cheek pressed to her chilled one.

Please don’t take her from me.

He felt it then, the surge of heat that travelled through her body, and then he felt nothing.

James woke as he moved his arm, causing a red-hot ember of pain to slice through him. Eden! Opening his eyes, he looked down to where she lay on his chest. Placing two fingers on her pulse he felt it, strong and steady. Touching her forehead, he noted it was warm but not hot.

“Eden!” he rasped, tilting her head up so he could look at her face in the firelight.

“What!” Dev struggled to his feet from his position near the fire. Essie followed; Cam kept snoring.

“She is breathing well, and her skin feels warm,” James said, easing into a sitting position and then getting off the bed so he could get a better look at her.

“She’s stirring,” Dev whispered.

“Come on, love, open your eyes,” James urged her.

They fluttered open and closed again, then they opened and she looked at him.

“James?”

“Yes,” he rasped, kissing her cheek as her fingers slid into his.

“I heard your words but I could not speak, the p-poison, it was so hard to fight through—and then I felt so warm, as if warm water were travelling through my body.”

“James made us all touch you,” Essie said. “The heat came from all of us, Eden, even James.”

“This time you saved me.”

“I could not have lived without you.” James bent over her, his face close. “You are my life.”

“I love you, Duke.”

“I love you,” he whispered.

He then moved back, allowing her family to hug and kiss her.

“James, don’t leave me,” she whispered when they were finished. Her eyes were closing as he moved to her side once more.

“I’m here, love, where I will stay.” He took her hand, slipping her fingers through his. She gave him the sweetest smile and then fell into a deep, healing sleep, and for the first time since she had been taken, he drew in a breath, knowing that she was here safe and well surrounded by the people who loved her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Does she look like him—Tolly?”

James drew his gaze from the dismal surroundings outside the carriage window to look at Eden. She sat opposite, dressed in a blue sprigged muslin dress with darker blue matching velvet pelisse buttoned up over her splendid breasts. Her bonnet was of the same fabric and hid her glorious hair, and he was pleased to note some color in her cheeks, although she was still too pale for his liking. Her eyes had smudges beneath, telling him that although she strenuously denied having trouble sleeping, in fact she was.

“Yes, very much so, love. But we will not hold that against her.”

“She shall not pay for her father’s sins,” she said, waving one delicate gloved hand in front of her.

“Something like that,” he muttered, grabbing her hand and tugging her across the seat to fall into his lap.

“James, your arm!”

“My arm is fine and you, madam, are too far away over there,” he whispered against her neck. She wriggled as his breath tickled her skin, before settling against him with a sigh.

They had returned to London one week after arriving at Oak’s Knoll with Eden unconscious in James’s arms, and he relived that memory daily. He had nearly lost her, and that would never be allowed to happen again. He would ensure it.

“You should have on your sling.”

“Slings are for ladies,” James said in a mock growl.

“Two weeks.” Eden sighed.

“And you will be my wife and share my bed.”

“Yes,” she said again in that soft tone that made his bones melt.

She had woken the day after regaining consciousness as if she had never been poisoned, determined to carry on as if the little matter of a near-death experience were nothing overly worrying. However, her body and James had thought differently. He had refused to let them leave for London that day, instead making her stay in bed and traveling three days later. Even then they had stopped often. She was still feeling the effects of the poison and tired easily, and James watched her closely, much to her annoyance.

“Essie is doing well. Don’t you think?”

“Very well, but I imagine she is more like me than you, and therefore has the ability to hide her feelings.”

“I am such an open book, then?”

“To me you are.” He kissed the top of her nose.

He had apologized for his behavior the day before Tolly took her from him, and she had of course accepted, with the proviso it did not happen again.

“It’s disturbing to love someone as much as I love you.”

“Disturbing in a good way I hope?” James could never get enough of this woman. Touching a soft cheek, he traced the contour, mapping each curve.

“I love my family, but this is vastly different. With you it’s almost painful, and when I thought Tolly would take you from me….” She closed her eyes. “Oh, James, the pain—”

James pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. “No one is taking me from you, as no one will take you from me. We are two halves of a whole, sweetheart. I’m afraid you must accept the fact that you are stuck with me from now until I haul in my final breath with you weeping at my bedside.” He said the words to remove the fear from her eyes.

“Ha, I shall be counting your money!”

“No, you won’t.” He pulled her close for a long heated kiss. “Because you will be inconsolable.”

“I will.” She touched his cheek. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” he vowed. “Because this disturbing, wonderful love we share will never die, my sweet.”

They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey, Eden’s cheek resting on his chest, his arms holding her close.

“The carriage is slowing, James, let me up.”

Placing her on the seat beside him, James climbed from the carriage then reached for Eden’s hand, and together they walked to his sister’s front door. Images of his last journey here had his fingers tightening.

“I hear her footsteps.”

James simply nodded, now used to her and the Sinclair way. He watched the door open, and his sister’s pale face appear.

“Y-your Grace, my brother?”

“I am afraid your brother is dead, Emily,” James said, stepping through the door as she stumbled backward. Eden beat him and slipped through to reach for his sister.

“It’s all right, Emily, we are here now, you are not alone.”

James watched Eden gather the woman in her arms.

“Edward is dead?”

“I am so very sorry, Emily, but yes he is, dear.”

Eden guided Emily to a small chair, with James on their heels. It seemed to be the only room in the house and he saw a neatly made bed, small table, and washstand.

“Now,” Eden added, lowering Emily into the chair. “I think we shall just take you home with us. This is no place for a young lady to live, especially alone.”

“Oh, I—”

“James, find something to carry her belongings in.”

He didn’t argue. Eden had the fire in her eyes and her back was straight with purpose. She had not asked him, but he would not have protested if she did because he agreed with her. This was no place for his sister to live. In minutes he had located what was needed and handed it to Eden.

“Now, Emily, what do you want to take with you when you leave here?”

Wide-eyed, Emily looked from James to Eden then around the room. “But, I cannot come with you—surely? It would not be right.”

“I’m not sure why,” Eden said calmly. “James is your brother, I am his betrothed, and you shall not be living with just him, there is your half sister, Samantha.”

“I-I have a half sister?”

James saw the hope flicker through her wary eyes.

“You do, and she is in need of an elder female to watch over her until I move into the house.”

James didn’t think he was doing a bad job with Samantha, but kept that thought to himself.

“Come along now, Emily,” Eden said. “It need be only temporary if that is your wish, but you cannot stay here alone, it is not safe.”

Eden’s words seemed to galvanize Emily into action. Regaining her feet, she proceeded to grab several things and place them in the bag Eden held open. He watched as she tilted her head to one side, studying four books laid one on top of the other. James had seen Samantha do just that when she was thinking.

“M-my mother use to read this to Edward and me when we were little.” She took the book at the bottom.

Edward. His brother’s name had been Edward.

“Excellent. Well then, you had better bring it because one day you may wish to read to your own children,” Eden said, taking Emily’s coat off the hook and wrapping it around her shoulders. Her bonnet was next.

James watched as Eden tied the worn ribbons beneath his sister’s chin. Humbled that this amazing woman now belonged to him, he stood silently, letting her take charge.

“James will take care of the rest of the details, Emily. We shall leave now.”

“I—I—”

“Don’t look back, Emily, the future is forward and in that direction lies happiness and love.”

“She’s right,” James said, taking his sister’s other arm and nodding to where Eden stood. “She gave me both, Emily. Let us share some of that with you.”

“All right,” his sister said with a small wobbly smile as she climbed into the carriage, and not once did she look back.

...

The marriage of Miss Eden Sinclair to the Duke of Raven took place in the church at Raven Castle, much to the horror of the Countess of Wynburg, who had imagined a grander church with many many guests.

“We wish to replace the memories of what last took place in here with new ones, Aunt. Surely you can understand that?” Eden had explained to Lady Wynburg. And eventually she had, sending out invitations, organizing a banquet after the ceremony that would take place in the castle, and everything else that went along with a wedding.

The day was fine and the sun high as guests filled the small church to the rafters. James stood with Cam at the altar, waiting for Eden to arrive.

“I hope you are only minutes away, my love,” he said, hoping Eden was close. “As I cannot endure to wait much longer.”

The sound of chatter reached his ears, and then Dorrie, Somer, and Samantha appeared in the doorway of the church behind Warwick, who was the ring bearer. Cam chuckled as he watched his little brother’s tongue stick out of his mouth as he concentrated on walking slowly down the aisle without dropping the pillow that held the rings.

“Look at those three, one would not guess the trouble they cause us,” he said as they watched the little girls trail slowly behind, throwing petals on the floor.

James tore his eyes from the children as Eden appeared on the arm of her brother. He slowly let out the breath he had been holding as she stepped inside the church. She was dressed in ivory satin, the gown seeming to float around her as she walked. In her hand was a small bouquet of flowers with matching ribbons, and her face was hidden from him behind a lace veil. His chest felt so full of emotion it nearly choked him.

“James!”

Dragging his eyes from his betrothed, James looked down at his sister, who now stood before him, her face tilted back and the ring of flowers on her head in danger of falling to the floor.

“Eden looks like a princess!” she whispered loudly.

Righting the flowers, James agreed. “She does, Samantha. Do I look like a prince then?”

“Delusions of grandeur, James,” Cam muttered, taking Samantha’s hand and leading her back to where his little sisters now stood.

James smiled as Eden reached him. Behind her, Emily and Essie took their places with the children.

Dev lifted Eden’s veil and then he saw her, his beautiful girl. Her brother kissed her cheek and then shook James’s hand.

“I’ll kill you if you hurt her, Raven.”

“I would have it no other way, Sinclair.”

The service was conducted without mishap, the children perfectly behaved except for a few grumbles and fidgets, and then the minister said, “You may kiss the bride.”

And he did. It was a slow meeting of two souls. A kiss that sealed their love and the happiness yet to come. A kiss that spoke of their relief that finally they were bound together by more than love.

“Is it true?”

“Yes, and now we must live happily ever after,” James breathed against her lips.

“There may be a few things to disturb that, Raven,” Dev muttered, trying to part Warwick and Dorrie, who were doing battle over something. “But I applaud the concept.”

He couldn’t help it. James wrapped an arm around his new wife’s waist and then threw back his head and laughed, right there in front of the guests. Happiness bubbled through him and for the first time in his life he gave vent to it.

“Is he all right?”

“Yes, darling,” he heard Eden answer Samantha. “He is merely happy.”

“I am,” James wheezed. “I really am.”

“Well I should bloody well hope so, as you just married me.”

Eden was smiling at him, and James knew that this, what he felt now, would be with him forever.

…

Seeing Danger

Chapter One

“Seems a carriage has hit a cart, my lord, filled with—ah—”

“Filled with what, Bids?” Devonshire, Sinclair, prompted his driver through the opening above his head.

“It's a sort of—um—mess, my lord.”

“A sort of mess?” Dev smiled at his driver's obvious reluctance to use the word shit in his presence. He listened as Bids cleared his throat several times, followed by a lengthy silence before finally he spoke.

“I believe, my lord, it is some form of animal excrement.”

Leaning back, Dev propped his feet on the opposite seat.

“And can you determine the source of the excrement?” he queried, enjoying the conversation hugely.

“’Tis—the smell, my lord.”

“Can we go around the mess, Bids?”

“I fear not, Lord Sinclair. We shall have to wait it out.”

“Very well, I shall walk the remainder of the journey home, Bids.” Dev closed the hatch. Collecting his hat, he opened the door and stepped from the carriage.

“B-but, Lord Sinclair, ’tis near on dark.”

“I shall be all right, Bids. We are only twenty minutes from home. I shall probably reach there before you.” Slapping his hat on his head, Dev raised a hand to the still stuttering Bids and struck out along the street.

Unlike others, Dev could see at night. Like his siblings with their strong senses, his ability to see far outreached anyone else's. Leaving the excrement behind, Dev took his first deep breath of thick London air.

Twilight was Dev’s favorite time of day. Far quieter than any other hour, the buildings lost their weariness, dirt faded, and the streets appeared swept clean. Almost as if the city exhaled after the rigors it had endured, and was girding its loins for the evening to come.

His family would be waiting for him to share their evening meal, and the thought had him lengthening his stride. The day had been a long one and he was ravenous. If he wanted seconds, he would need to get there quickly, preferably before the meal started. With six siblings, five of whom would share his meal, he needed to eat quickly.

Crossing the road, Dev ducked down a lane that would cut at least five minutes off his journey.

“No! Let him go at once!”

Looking to the end of the lane, Dev saw a man and woman running. Behind them was a gaggle of children, and they all appeared to be chasing another person who had a child over his shoulder. The child was yelling to be released, which suggested he was being taken against his will.

“Release him, you cad!” the woman shrieked.

“Damn,” Dev muttered. It seemed his meal was about to be delayed, and there would be no second helpings for him.

Hurrying after the little group, something urged him to run faster. He felt a desperate need to reach the boy. Turning right at the end of the lane, he found them just ahead of him. The woman led the chase, and she was gaining on the man and boy.

“Stop at once!” she cried as the man reached a carriage.

Dev passed the group of children just as the carriage door was thrown open. The man then tried to throw the boy inside, but the woman was on him. She grabbed the boy's leg and held tight. The carriage started moving, and the man roared at her to let go, but she would not relent, running to keep up. Dev then watched in horror as the man, who was hanging half out of the carriage, lifted a hand and swung it at the woman, connecting with her face.

Dev lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her free. The boy came with her and then they were all falling. He rolled, and landed with them on his chest. The breath slammed from his body as he took her weight and that of the boy.

“A-are you all right?” Dev rasped as he struggled to draw air back into his lungs.

“Dear Lord!” The man who had been running behind her reached them. He quickly lifted the boy and then the lady off Dev.

“Are you well, Miss?”

Dev sucked in a deep breath as he moved his body to check for injuries before he regained his feet. He would have a few bruises, but nothing lasting.

“W-we got him, W-Wilson.”

Her words were breathless, yet he heard the elation in each one.

“My heart near stopped, Miss, seeing you hanging from the carriage.”

“B-but I had to stop them taking him.”

“Madam, my name is Lord Sinclair. Will you allow me to help you?”

Her gasp was loud on the night air as she turned her back on him. Dev then watched her hands reach for the hood of her cloak, pulling it up so she could shield her face.

“I-I need no help, thank you. And thank you for coming to my aid.”

She walked away from him to where the four children stood silently.

“They'll keep trying, Lilly.” A little boy stepped forward. “They already got five of us.”

She dropped to her knees right there in the street, without a care for the dirt and filth. The man she had called Wilson moved to stand at her back.

“There will be no more, Toby. I promise you. We foiled this attempt, and we will foil others.”

“But how can we stop them, Lilly?”

“We'll find a way,” she vowed. “Now you take everyone to Temple Street, especially Leo. Make sure he is not injured after what he endured tonight. Tell Mrs. Davey that you are to stay there until morning. I shall call by tomorrow, and we shall talk more then.”

Dev couldn't fit a name to that soft, cultured voice, and yet a sense of awareness inside him told him they'd met before. He reached her side as she rose.

“Thank you, Lilly.” The boy she had just saved also stepped forward.

“Are you all right, Leo?”

He nodded, and she squeezed his shoulder.

“Go now,” she said to the children, and seconds later they had fled, disappearing down the road and into the shadows.

“Can I assist you back to your carriage, madam?”

“No, I have help, thank you.”

“Why are you out here at this hour? Who was that man who attempted to abduct that child?”

He had so many questions, but the most important was to find out this woman's identity. Her voice and actions suggested she was from his world, yet surely that was not the case. No woman of his acquaintance would have taken the risks she had tonight. Except his sisters, of course; they would have done the exact same thing.

She was doing everything she could to avoid looking at him, but Dev was not having that. He stepped into her path as she started walking, forcing her to stop.

“Will you give me your name?”

“Please excuse me, I must leave.”

“I think not.”

Dev grabbed her arm once more.

“Release her!”

“Easy, Wilson,” she soothed the man with her.

“Tell me your name.”

Shaking his hand from her arm, she stepped back and lifted her face.

“You!” Dev staggered backward. “What the hell are you doing out here at this time of night?”

Lilliana Braithwaite’s face did not carry its usual silly expression. Dev saw emotion now, both fear and anger.

“I have no time for this now. No time for you.”

Dismissing him, she walked away. Dev shook his head to clear it. That didn't work, so he did so again. When he looked for her, she had vanished.

“Damn.” He followed. No woman, even her, should be out in this neighborhood with a single servant to protect her. He walked back down the street, but could see no sign of Miss Braithwaite. Closing his eyes, he changed his vision.

Dev and his siblings had strong senses. His was the gift of sight. With his normal vision he could see long distances, and with his other vision, he could see the colors that belonged to a person, no matter where they hid. Of course, he did not know what color Miss Braithwaite was, but he didn't think too many people would be hiding in this lane at this hour. He just prayed he did not come upon a pair of lovers.

His eyes searched first left and then right. He didn't think Miss Braithwaite and the man could have gone far.

“Why am I bothering?” he muttered. It wasn’t as if he even liked the woman, and she had certainly given him no indication she liked him either. He should simply go home and get that second helping. But something was stopping him. Something tugged at him to find her. Sighing, he kept searching.

He saw blue, and then—it can't be! Stopping, he inhaled deeply. Christ, the shorter of the two people hidden in the narrow opening between two buildings was his exact shade of green. Shocked to his toes, he tried to take it in.

Every person had a color. Blue, pink, orange, or brown, no matter the color they all had one in varying shades, and yet until this very moment, no one had ever been his exact color match.

Closing his eyes, he reopened them in his normal vision. Was it her? Surely not, he prayed silently. The woman was extremely foolish, and then there was the business of her hideous taste in clothing.

Dev walked slowly down the street, finally reaching the spot where she and Wilson, were hiding.

“You can come out now, because I am not going anywhere until you do.”

He heard a soft curse, and then she and the man appeared.

Lilliana Braithwaite came out first. She had lowered her hood now that the game was up, and for some reason left off her glasses. For the first time he saw her beauty.

Usually her hair was severely drawn back and covered in lace, feathers, or some type of flora or fauna, but tonight it had no adornment, was just pulled back in a simple bun.

He'd never really noticed the color before, but realized now that it was golden blonde. Without her glasses, he saw soft feathered brows arched over a spectacular pair of lavender eyes that were framed by curling lashes.

Christ, she was actually beautiful.

Dev looked to her chin and saw the blood there, and felt his head swim. Inhaling, he pushed aside the sudden need to sit. He did not like blood, but it usually only had this effect on him when his siblings bled.

“Y-you are hurt,” he managed.

“’Tis nothing.” She wiped her chin with the back of her glove. “Now go home, Lord Sinclair, as I will give you no information about what transpired this night.”

She brushed past him with the man on her heels. Even her voice sounded different. The high-pitched grating tone had gone. Relieved that his breathing returned to normal now he could not see the blood, he followed.

“Why were you running after that man? And why did you, foolishly I must add, grab that boy while the carriage was moving?” Dev asked.

“Don't tax yourself, my lord. I assure you there is no need, as you will only harm yourself. Forget the events of this night and go home.”

She was dismissing him again. He couldn't believe it. The empty-headed Miss Braithwaite was dismissing him as if nothing had happened, and he had not just seen what had taken place.

She tried to outpace him, which was ridiculous given he was a head taller and his legs took one step to her two.

“You don't seriously expect me to do that, do you?”

“Yes.” She waved a hand at him as if he had asked her to dance. “You don't like me and I don't like you. Therefore, I see no need for you to involve yourself further in this matter.”

“Tell me about what just happened.”

“No, and here is my carriage, so I shall say good evening, Lord Sinclair.”

“What the hell is going on?” He grabbed her arm. “You are....” He struggled to find the right words. “Different.”

She turned to face him then, and suddenly there she was, the empty-headed Miss Braithwaite that he had always known. She gave him that blank look that he had seen a dozen times in as many ballrooms over the past two seasons. The one that suggested she could not hold a serious thought if her life depended on it.

“Why, whatever do you mean, Lord Sinclair? I assure you I have not changed. Indeed, just this morning I selected a simply stunning new dress to be made for the Merryvale ball. La, it will certainly set every man upon his heels.”

“What?”

“The Merryvale ball. Surely you are to attend? La, it will be quite something.” She gave that little trill of laughter that grated on his nerves.

“Miss Braithwaite, what the hell were you doing out here, chasing that man?” Dev attempted to get the answers he wanted.

“Lord Sinclair!” She stepped back, clasping her chest in horror. “How could you speak to me, a lady, in such insulting tones? Why, I feel quite faint.”

To strengthen her words, she stumbled to the carriage door, which was now open, and into it. Before he could stop her, the door had shut.

“Good evening to you, my lord.” Wilson then said.

He vaulted up beside the driver and then the carriage was moving, leaving Dev to watch it disappear into the London night.

“What the hell just happened?” Dev said to no one, as he too started moving. He had a terrible feeling that whatever it was, it was about to shake the foundations of his existence, and for the life of him he could not fathom why.

Chapter Two

Two nights later, Dev was no clearer on what he had seen that evening, or why Miss Braithwaite had been there, doing what she had. He was now about to do what he had promised himself he would not: ask his siblings what they knew.

“Do you know much about Miss Braithwaite, Essie?”

“The same Miss Braithwaite you told us not to bother with, Dev, as a conversation with her is as riveting as watching grass grow?”

Had he said that? Lord, he was an idiot sometimes.

“The very same.” His tone was emotionless as he flicked a nonexistent fleck of lint from the sleeve of his evening jacket. Schooling his features, he tried to appear uninterested, as if he were simply passing the time with idle conversation.

Dev had thought of nothing else since the incident with Lilliana Braithwaite. His mind was whirling with thoughts and possibilities, chief among which was that he had sorely misjudged her, and that the persona she displayed in society was not in actual fact who she really was.

Why he thought that based on such a brief meeting, he was not entirely sure. But he could not seem to remove from his mind the image of her face when she had looked at him in that unguarded moment. He'd seen emotion, and that had shaken him.

Why would a woman he believed to be an empty-headed fool be in that street chasing after that man, who Dev believed was abducting that child? The fact that she had given no regard to her personal well-being and launched herself at the carriage told him the matter was a dire one indeed, and rescuing that boy meant a great deal to Miss Braithwaite.

“But, Dev, you expressly forbade Eden and me from talking to her, and as you know we always obey you.”

“I'm sure I never mentioned the word forbid, Essie,” Dev said. He hated it when his autocratic behavior came back and bit him in the backside.

“No, you did, I heard it,” Cam said.

Dev sighed loudly, then dropped his calm façade and cast his siblings a look, the quelling sort that told them he was in no mood for their taunts. They of course merely smiled at him.

He was escorting his brother and sister to the Alverston ball. Of the seven Sinclair siblings, all except Eden had dark hair and green eyes. Essie, his sister, sat across from him. She had recovered from her broken heart; well, at least she told her family she had. But one year on, and Dev believed she still harbored the scars deep inside. She looked pretty in pale blue silk with ivory trim.

Cambridge, his younger brother, was tall with broad shoulders. He had not yet reached Dev's size, but one day he would. In buff breeches, red and black silk waistcoat, ridiculously high shirt points, and a black evening jacket, he looked as any young rogue should. His eyes were finally cleared of the demons that had until recently haunted him. It had been a hard few months for the Sinclair family. Essie had fallen in love only to have her heart crushed, and Cam had suffered the aftereffects of their father's perfidy.

“To answer your question, Dev, yes. Eden and I do know Miss Braithwaite. Anyone you expressly forbid us to talk to is well worth our time.”

Dev eyed his sister's cheeky smile with some relief. Perhaps that bastard had not broken her spirit as he had feared. Now he just had to work out a way to get her to tell him what he wanted to know without arousing too much curiosity.

“Why the interest in Miss Braithwaite? I thought you disliked her intensely. You even told me not to bother asking her to dance, as she would bore me to tears in seconds, and that my title was not lofty enough to interest her. There is also the small matter of her dress sense, which I assure you is enough to repel any man.”

“Yes.” Dev shuddered. “Those colors she wears hurt my eyes. However, I'm sure I did not say those things, Cambridge.” Dev pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a pompous twit. “Besides, you don't have a title.”

“I fear you did, brother. Of course I ignored you and danced with her anyway,” Cam added. “And yes, she did rattle on, but once I got past the fact she wore that hideous puce dress, I did not find it taxing, as she laughed at several of my jokes. And on the matter of my title, some men don't need them. I can scintillate a lady with mere looks and words.”

Essie crowed with laughter as Dev rolled his eyes.

“Indeed, Cam,” Essie added. “As you say, she does have a silly way to her, but I have found that eases with familiarity. She is harmless.”

“Eases?” Dev questioned.

“I believe it means to give respite, brother.”

“I know what it means, Cam,” Dev snapped.

“Why the interest in Miss Braithwaite?” Essie asked him.

“Keep what I tell you to yourselves,” Dev said, and then he related what he had seen out on that London street.

“Good God,” Cam said. “And you say she was running after the carriage, and you believe she saved that boy?”

“She was, and did. Since then I have wondered if there is a chance that I may have been harsh in my original summation of Miss Braithwaite's character. Until I gather all the facts, I cannot be certain.”

The only sound in the carriage for several seconds was the rumble of the wheels and clip-clop of hooves.

“Do you have any smelling salts, Ess? I'm sure Dev just said he was wrong.”

“Very amusing.” Dev glared at his brother. “What else do you know about her?”

“Well, Eden and I, like Miss Braithwaite and her aunt, all knit for the children who are less fortunate than ourselves.”

Cam looked at Dev, who in turn shrugged.

“How come we don't know about this?” Dev asked, watching his sister's chin elevate.

“You are both busy, and this is a small thing we wish to do. We have so much and they so little.”

“But there is more, isn't there, sister?” Dev said. He knew when his sister was holding back.

“I am unsure of all the details, but I have a suspicion that Miss Braithwaite is more involved than she appears. One day I had the carriage stop at this little house in Temple Street to drop off some things we had for the children, and I saw her entering the building.”

“Well that suggests nothing other than she was there dropping off things as you were,” Cam said.

“Indeed. However, Eden was with me, and she overheard Miss Braithwaite say she would be in the parlor looking over the accounts.”

“Now that changes things,” Cam added.

“Who approached you about the knitting?” Dev questioned his sister.

“We were visiting the Countess of Gripley, and she told us about this charity she knits for. Eden, Aunt, and I were interested in helping too. Miss Braithwaite was there also, and it was she who said she knew the person to contact, and sent round a note with the details the following day.”

“Is knitting all you do, Essie?”

“I have visited orphanages, and sometimes while I am there I will help if a child is sick.”

“You've visited orphanages?” Dev felt ill at the prospect of his sister in such areas.

“You cannot stop me, Dev. I won't let you, and anyway, I am in no danger. I take a footman and a maid if Eden cannot come with me.”

The Sinclair brothers shook their heads as if to clear them.

“Am I such an ogre that you think I would stop you doing these things then, Essie?”

Dev was subjected to what he termed the Sinclair look, a thorough searching study from one of his siblings. He had received it more times than he could count, yet it still made him want to wriggle on the carriage seat.

“No. I know you would never stop me doing something like this, Dev.” Essie expelled a deep breath. “I just decided not to tell you, as you are very protective of us all.”

“All right, we will leave the matter of you frequenting some of the less desirable London streets for now, and return to Miss Braithwaite. Have you discussed the subject of the children with her again?”

“Briefly, but she wished only to discuss scarves and hats. She is not the easiest person to strike up a conversation with, as you know.”

“She simpers a great deal, and then there is the inane giggling.” Cam sighed.

The first and only conversation Dev had shared with Miss Braithwaite had been at a ball two years ago. She had been dressed in a hideous ill-fitting gown of mustard, with her hair pulled back so tight it made her eyes squint. Poked in the top of it had been a mustard feather that nearly took out his eye when she nodded. Her glasses had borne a smudge on one lens, and while Dev was not a perfectionist by any standards, he had some... standards. And the woman quite literally hurt his eyes to look at.

There was also the little matter of his body tingling when he had drawn near to her. Disturbing, because he had never felt it before, and equally as disturbing was the fact that he was experiencing it with Miss Braithwaite.

He had made the effort to approach, as he had sisters and would hate for them to be snubbed in any way, but it had been the first and only time. Miss Braithwaite had spent the entire dance discussing the Grey Shrike, a bird that apparently she had spent a large amount of time studying. She had bored him silly with its migration patterns, the size of its feet, and the color of its feathers. By dance end, Dev was more than happy to return her to her aunt and flee. He pushed from his memory his reaction to her, and never approached her again.

Now, however, knowing what he did about her, he knew the source of his reaction. Christ, he could still not believe she had his colors!

Had it all been an act? He wasn't sure why she would put on such an act night after night. It made no sense.

“Essie?”

“Yes, Dev?”

“I want you to find out whatever you can about her.”

“Who?” She gave him a sweet smile.

“You know who, so don’t play the innocent.”

“What do I get?”

A Sinclair never did something for a sibling without recompense. If they did, the requests would never cease.

“I know!” She clapped her gloved hands together. “You will dance with the Riddly twins!”

Dev groaned. “Have mercy, Ess. They are sweet, but you know if I do that, their mother will have me wed to one of them before dawn.”

His sister merely smiled once more, and he knew she would not budge.

“Very well, but I expect you to do your bit.”

“Done!”

“Well now, I shall enjoy this evening immensely, and watch both of you with interest.” Cam rose as the carriage stopped.

After greeting the host and hostess and exchanging pleasantries, Dev and his siblings followed the other guests into the ballroom. Everything glittered and sparkled, including the guests, and he stood for a moment inhaling and exhaling slowly as his senses adjusted to the color.

He felt a blinding flash of pain behind his eyes that instantly eased as he adjusted to the brightness and to the myriad of colors. Releasing another breath, he stood between his siblings, one pressed to either side of him, in case it became too much for him to bear and he landed flat on his face.

“I am well.”

They started walking again, nodding as people greeted them. Soon Essie left to talk with some friends. He and Cam continued to circle the room.

Over the heads of several guests, he found Lilliana Braithwaite seated with a group of ladies along the wall. Once again she wore glasses and was dressed in a hideous shade of purple. Not the color of grapes or lavender bushes; no, this was closer to a moldy fig. Her hair was once again scraped back from her face and piled high and decorated with—

“Christ, is that a tree in Miss Braithwaite's hair?” Cam whispered.

“It appears so.”

“I wonder why her aunt lets her dress in such a manner?”

“Perhaps she has little say in the matter,” Dev said.

“Perhaps.”

“I saw her without her glasses,” Dev added. “Her face was also not composed with that vacant look she has perfected. She was beautiful.”

“Really?”

Dev nodded.

“What happened between you has really unsettled you, hasn't it?”

“Yes, because I thought I knew who she was, but now I'm not so sure. Seeing her out there, doing what she was, risking her safety for that boy….” Dev shook his head. “I can find no reason for it.”

“And you like everything to have a reason. Everything in its place, no unanswered questions?”

He did; it was how he lived his life, and he did not like the unexpected.

“What do you know of her family?”

“Not much.” Cam shrugged. “Father and mother have passed, and the aunt lives with Miss Braithwaite and her brother. We both know him; Nicholas. He has the same vices I once had.”

“The same Nicholas you lost money to,” Dev said, remembering the night he had found his brother deep in debt in the bowels of some hellhole.

“Yes, not a very pleasant type, but as I was halfway down a bottle of whiskey at the time, I can't remember a great deal.”

“Excuse me, brother.”

“Where are you going?” Cam asked.

“To find out who the hell the true Miss Braithwaite is.”

Chapter Three

Lilly's eyes tracked Lord Sinclair as he drew closer. Surely he was not coming to see her? Two days had passed since that night he had caught her as she lunged at Leo to save him, and she’d believed he had taken her advice and forgotten the entire incident. The look on his face suggested she was wrong.

Her heart beat a little faster as she watched him cut a path through the other guests. He was taller than most of the other people in the room, so she could see him clearly, and although she couldn't read his expression from this distance she was fairly certain he was looking at her.

Of course he was not seeking her out, she told herself. She had turned him away successfully, just as she had the others. And yet, what had happened between them may have piqued his interest. She prayed it hadn't, as she had no time to deal with him now.

The problem was that since that night when he had risked himself to save her, when she would have surely fallen hard and possibly injured herself and Leo, she had not been able to stop thinking of him. His actions had been selfless, and she was unsure many would have taken the steps he had to keep her safe.

Take her brother, for example; he would never have risked his health to save her. And yet Lord Sinclair had, which told her she may have misjudged him, and that in fact, he was a great deal nicer than she had originally believed. Not that it mattered. Lilly let no one close; she held them all at bay with silly looks, boring stories, and terrible choices in clothing. But still, it would be nice to know if he was... nice.

She shot him another look. He certainly seemed to be heading her way. Lilly pressed a hand to her chest. Surely not? Surely he would not question her here over what had transpired the other night?

He had piercing green eyes, which she had only really looked into once before and vowed never to do so again, because she was sure he had read her innermost secrets and seen right down to her soul. Thick black hair and dark brows and lashes complemented a face that sometimes appeared chiseled in granite, and then he would smile—rarely, but usually when his siblings were near—and the effect was breathtaking.

His chest was wide, his shoulders broad, and Lilly had no idea who his tailor was, but she hoped he was paid handsomely for the effort of clothing the man's huge body.

Men did not often unsettle Lilly; in fact, for the most she found them simpleminded idiots, just as they found her. However, one look into his green eyes and she had actually lost the ability to think. It had never happened to her before, that sudden intense attraction that had fleeced her brain of every thought and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Lilly had never been attracted to another man like she was to Lord Sinclair. When he had offered his arm she had felt the heat of his body through her gloved fingers almost as if the man were a smoldering ember. Luckily she had fallen back on the act she had perfected of the empty-headed Miss Braithwaite.

“Is that Lord Sinclair coming this way, Miss Braithwaite?” Miss Tabitha Pillsworth whispered to her.

“Absolutely not,” Lilly said, turning away so she wouldn't gaze at him as she often did when no one paid attention. Her glasses proved a wonderful shield and, as most evenings she sat in some corner, she could observe without reserve.

“I think he is, and he looks extremely determined. Dear Lord, that is a ferocious scowl, is it not?”

“As you can see, Miss Pillsworth, I am at present looking at you. Therefore I cannot see what look Lord Sinclair has upon his face.”

“I wonder how he does that?” Her companion sighed.

“Does what?” Lilly said, then bit her tongue; she did not want to know what he was doing.

“Part the crowd without a word.”

“He is probably wearing too much scent!”

“Oh that was naughty, Miss Braithwaite!” Miss Pillsworth giggled and then gulped and grew quiet, and Lilly knew why. Without turning around, she just knew that he was standing behind her. She could feel him.

“Miss Braithwaite, Miss Pillsworth, I hope you are having a pleasant evening thus far.”

She had to look up at him now; it would be extremely rude if she did not. Yet didn't he already think her rude?

“Lord Sinclair,” Lilly said, gripping the edges of her seat.

“May I enquire if you have this dance free, Miss Braithwaite?”

Lilly looked down at her dance card, thereby avoiding his eyes. Damn man, he was far too disturbing this close, and while Lilly studied her card, she knew there was not one name on there.

“I fear not, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly fell back on what she did best. She gave him an insipid smile.

“Now that is a shame, considering we have so much to discuss.”

That look in his eyes told Lilly the man was not about to walk away from her until he got what he came for.

“Are you wishing to hear more of the Grey Shrike, my lord?”

“No, you were quite thorough in your description, thank you.” His voice held humor.

“Perhaps another night then, Lord Sinclair.”

Before she could retreat, he had grabbed her card and studied it. Horrified, she knew he saw it was empty.

“Lord Hingle has been struck down with a rare form of lackwit; it is a disease that will lay him low for some time, I fear.”

Lilly heard Miss Pillsworth giggle.

“That is extremely rude, my lord. Lord Hingle is a friend of mine, and on his behalf I must protest.”

In fact she loathed the man, but he did not need to know that. The slow smile forming on Lord Sinclair's face was not making her heart thud faster, Lilly told herself.

“Please accept my apologies if I have insulted you in any way, Miss Braithwaite.”

He wasn't sorry at all, the scoundrel. His green eyes had a wicked glint. She squinted. Men did not like women who squinted, she had ascertained, as it meant she could not see them clearly.

“Oh, Miss Braithwaite thinks Lord Hingle a lackwit also, Lord Sinclair.”

“Yes, thank you, Miss Pillsworth.” Lilly gave the woman a sharp look, which did nothing to subdue her. They had spent many hours sitting on the edges of ballrooms, and Lilly had let her facade drop occasionally and shared a quip or two about some of the men of society. Now she wished she had held her tongue.

“I shall dance with the silly man should he arrive, Miss Braithwaite, while you dance with Lord Sinclair.”

“Excellent.” He held out his arm. “What a true friend you are, Miss Pillsworth.”

Lilly looked around her but rescue came from no quarter, and as there was no one to come to her aid anyway, there was little she could do but rise and place the tips of her gloved fingers on his forearm.

Neither spoke as they made their way onto the floor. They attracted plenty of glances, because it was no secret she was rarely asked to dance and he was highly sought-after.

Lilly was relieved as a quadrille started when they reached the floor. Not as bad as a waltz, but still he would remain close to her for most of it.

“Are you enjoying the season thus far, Miss Braithwaite?”

“Oh indeed,” she simpered. The breath seized in her throat as his large fingers clasped around hers. Even through their gloves she could do nothing to stop the shiver of awareness. She released it with a whoosh as he released her to take Lady Rumble's hand. The woman threw him a smoldering look.

Lilly had never understood women doing such things. But then she'd never understood the need to flirt either. Of course, that was because she had no wish to ever marry. Lilly couldn't marry; she had too many reasons not to, second of which was her children. No husband would allow his wife to do as she did.

She straightened her spine as Lord Sinclair returned to her side. Luckily he did not touch her.

“Do you not like the quadrille, Miss Braithwaite?”

His green eyes smiled, and Lilly hated the feeling of a hundred butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.

“Oh yes, indeed, Lord Sinclair, it is a most beauteous dance. Why do you ask?”

“You're frowning.”

Drat. Lilly immediately relaxed her face.

“I like to frown, I-I it gives the face a chance to relax.” Mother of God, had she just said those words? Think before you speak, Lilliana, she chided herself, this man is no fool. Try not to appear overly stupid.

“There is certainly a place for a frown, but one would not think that place was on the dance floor when one is meant to be enjoying oneself.”

“Oh yes, indeed,” she said for the third time. “La, I do believe this is my favorite dance. Do you know of its origins, Lord Sinclair?”

Lilly had a head full of silly facts. She had researched long and hard on just such things, because she had every intention of dissuading every man who might show an interest in her.

“Ah, no. However, I wish to discuss something else with you, Miss Braithwaite.”

“I knew you enjoyed our discussion on the gray shrike, my lord. Let me now tell you of the yellow wagtail.”

“What occurred the other night, Miss Braithwaite? Why were you out there, running down that street after that man and boy? What were you saving him from?”

Lilly missed a step, but as he was holding her, he took her weight, and they continued on as if nothing had happened.

“I, ah, have no idea what it is you refer to, Lord Sinclair.”

“Miss Braithwaite, please do not try to fob me off. I was there, I saw you, and I caught you and the boy as you fell. That bruise on your chin was the result. So don't play me for a fool, as it will not wash.”

“I have no wish to discuss it,” she trilled. “It was a silly, reckless moment. It has now passed, and will never happen again.”

“Try that again.”

He said the words as he left her side, and she had only a few seconds to find an answer. Her thoughts whirled but she could come up with nothing that would appease him and leave him none the wiser as to her actions, so she fell back on the ridiculous.

“I have recently started studying mice, Lord Sinclair. And a rare form of field mouse is found on that street at this time every year. It comes only in the summer, and I was there searching for it when I saw that man grab that boy.” Lilly was rather proud of her reply. It sounded like something the silly Miss Braithwaite would do. “I could not, in all conscience, let that man harm the child, and so I set off in pursuit, and that is when you found me. Your actions surely saved my life,” Lilly added dramatically. “I shall forever be indebted to you.”

“Impressive though that reply was, you don't seriously expect me to believe it, do you?”

“Why, are you suggesting I am telling an untruth, my lord? Shame on you.” Lilly gasped, then clutched her bosom for effect.

He took her hands as they walked in a small circle.

“I am unsure if you are an excellent actress, and if so, why? Or you are genuinely....”

“Simple-minded? Oh I assure you I am. ’Tis a constant concern for my family.”

He laughed, a deep booming sound that drew far too many eyes. Lilly did not like being the center of attention.

“Now then,” he said when they returned to their previous position. “How about we try that again? Why were you in that lane at such an hour, chasing that man, with a handful of children with whom you were obviously familiar?”

“I-I—please forget the entire incident, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly gave up trying to concoct a more elaborate story. This man would not be fooled, or deterred, it seemed.

“I don't think that will be possible, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Why? My actions do not concern you.”

“And yet I was there, as were you. The woman I saw that night, for a brief moment, vastly differed from the one I believed I knew. My curiosity is roused.”

Oh no, no, no. This was not good at all. Lilly could not afford to have someone like Lord Sinclair poking his nose into her affairs. Her family had no idea what she did, and she liked it that way. Miss Braithwaite was important to no one. Therefore no one cared about her actions... until now.

“No, you were right in your earlier assessment of my character. I am extremely silly. Why, just yesterday I told Lord Howe that very thing, and he agreed with me.”

“And yet, that leads me no closer to what I want to know.”

“I am distressed by your line of questioning, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly forced herself to trill the words in her usual high-pitched tone. “I have no wish to further our acquaintance, or indeed dance with you again.”

She felt his eyes on her, and then he had left her side once more, and Lilly wanted to flee. Pick up her skirts and run as fast as she could, and not stop.

“Had you said those words to me last week, I would have believed them, Miss Braithwaite. Yet now, tonight, I am having trouble doing so. You see, the woman I watched kneel in that filthy London street to talk with children I suspect live their lives upon them, was not extremely silly. So you see my dilemma, Miss Braithwaite,” he said in a calm voice that made Lilly want to shriek at him. “You have become something of a conundrum to me.”

“I don't want to be your conundrum,” Lilly said quickly. “I am no one worth your time, and I wish for things to go back as they were. You ignoring me, and me ignoring you, Lord Sinclair.”

Please.

“I think not, but as you will not enlighten me, perhaps your family can.”

No, dear God, no.

“Do not question them!” Lilly looked to where her aunt stood. Dear Lord, she would lock Lilly's bedroom door and never let her leave if she knew what she got up to. Dear, sweet Aunt Vi. She would be horrified to realize her niece was out on that street with only a footman for protection.

“I will not, of course, if you do not wish it. However, I would like answers to my questions.”

“You will not get them.” Her voice was tight with worry, but she cared not. She must somehow dissuade this man from further questioning. If that did not work, then she would make sure to evade him. She could fake an illness—that would give her some time, then perhaps an injury to a leg....

“I shall look forward to conversing with you once more, Miss Braithwaite.”

Lilly did not speak again as the dance thankfully ended, and let him lead her back to where her aunt stood with her brother. The entire journey was spent trying to come up with a way to stall him from further questioning her. The only idea she could come up with as they reached her aunt was to run and hide until the evening was over.

Dev released Miss Braithwaite as they reached her aunt's side. He acknowledged Lady James and ignored Lord Braithwaite, her brother. The man had had a hand in attempting to sink Cam further into the depths of depravity when first the Sinclair family arrived in London, and Dev did not forget such things, especially when they involved people he loved.

“Lady James.” He bowed before the elderly woman.

“Lord Sinclair, how lovely to see you, and dancing with my darling niece.”

Dev studied the older woman. Her dress was in the latest style and the color a deep burgundy. Why then did she allow her niece to dress like a dowdy, color-blind field mouse?

“I believe the Duke and Duchess are from London at this time, Lord Sinclair.”

“Indeed they are, Lady James. My sister is at Raven Castle, but due to return shortly. My aunt and uncle are keeping them company.”

“How lovely.” Her smile was sweet. He knew the woman had many friends and was popular, also unlike her niece.

The puzzle that was Miss Braithwaite grew by the minute.

“If you will allow me the supper dance, Miss Braithwaite?”

“Oh no, my lord. It would not do to—”

“My niece will be delighted to dance with you again, Lord Sinclair.”

He bowed then, deciding that now was as good a time as any to leave, because Lady James may be happy he was singling her niece out, but her niece and nephew were not.

“Good evening, Sinclair.”

He did not look at Nicholas Braithwaite as he spoke. Turning on his heel, Dev walked away.

The woman had piqued his interest, and when that happened there was little to be done but follow that interest until he had answers to all the questions currently swirling inside his head.

Dev thought about her as he danced with others. He thought about her as he talked with friends and acquaintances. He then returned to partner her for the supper dance. However, it seemed she had fled.

Chapter Four

Dev walked around the room, until he was sure he had covered every inch, and still he could not find her. Tempted as he was to change his vision, he was not foolish enough to risk it, and would only resort to that in a dire situation.

Finding Essie, he tapped her shoulder, and his sister detached herself from a group of women.

“Essie, have you seen Miss Braithwaite?”

“Why?”

“We were engaged for the supper waltz.”

Essie frowned.

“But haven't you already danced with her?”

“Yes,” Dev said, not liking where this was going and wishing he had kept his mouth closed and continued searching on his own.

“Then why are you dancing with her again?”

“People can dance more than once, surely?”

“Not you and her.”

No one could annoy him quite like a sibling.

“I am attempting to be nice, is there a problem with that?” Frustrated, he ended the sentence on a growl.

“What did you say to her?”

“What?”

Essie placed her fingers on his arm, then nodded, which Dev guessed meant she wanted to walk. Not an easy task, surrounded by hundreds of people.

“You must have said something to her, if she has disappeared.”

“I asked if she would dance the supper dance with me, and her aunt accepted, and now I cannot find her.”

“Why would she have fled when she knew you were to dance with her, if you said nothing to upset her?”

“All right, I may have asked her about the other night, which was perfectly acceptable considering the circumstances,” he defended himself.

“I thought I was going to find out more about her, and then you would talk with her?”

“I don't remember us discussing that.”

“It was what I gathered from our discussion. But as you have now frightened her off, then you shall have to find her and apologize. “

She spoke out the side of her mouth.

“I'm your brother. Shouldn't you be on my side?” he groused.

“I can't help you with her if you don't tell me what happened,” Essie said in her calm, rational voice.

“How do you know I need help?”

“You're strung tighter than a piano wire.”

“Lord, I wish I had kept my mouth shut,” he groaned.

He watched the sweetest of the Sinclair siblings narrow her eyes in a calculating manner.

“If you will alert me when Sir Richard Kimpton is heading in my direction, I shall tell you where I last saw her.”

“I thought we were not using our senses in public?” This time Dev looked smug.

“That's the deal, brother. I cannot abide that windbag Kimpton, and his breath is quite foul.”

“Shall I warn him off you, sister?” Dev looked around the room and found Kimpton several feet away, fast approaching.

“No indeed, I can do that. But it would be easier if I had warning and could duck out of sight.”

“Deal.”

“Miss Braithwaite left the room through that door,” she pointed over Dev's shoulder, “ten minutes ago.”

“Kimpton is approaching fast on your left.”

“Love you, brother.”

“And you, sister.”

They parted. Dev headed for the door and slipped through. Switching his vision now that he was away from several hundred brightly clad people, he began walking the halls.

He saw colors behind doors, some extremely close to each other, which suggested more than just chatting was taking place. Continuing on, he found a set of stairs and descended; at the bottom he found another door, and this one led to a conservatory.

The smell of flowers and trees, both citrus and garden variety, hit him. Cam would love this place. He found Lilliana Braithwaite at the rear, tucked behind a large statue of a Roman gentleman wearing a brief loincloth.

“Hide-and-seek is a particular favorite of my family. Perhaps you would care to join us one day for a game?” Dev said, blocking her escape route.

“Lord Sinclair!”

“The very person.”

“What are you doing here?”

She was attempting to appear calm and find that blank look and insipid smile she usually had on her face when he saw her. However, this time, he could see nerves were making that difficult.

“I was looking for my dance partner, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Oh well, yes, of course. Good Lord, is it that time already? I had simply hoped for a short respite from the ballroom, and had not realized the hour had advanced so.”

As far as lies went it was a good one, yet a lie nonetheless. Dev was slowly coming to the conclusion that the woman was very good at hiding behind what she wanted people to believe she was, when in fact she was far different.

“Do you wear those to see near or far?”

His question about her spectacles threw her off her stride further.

“I—ah... both.”

Dev bent closer and looked through them. He saw the glass was plain, just like his bedroom window. The glasses were part of her disguise.

“They do not appear overly strong.”

“Th-they are strong enough.”

She snatched them from her face and cleaned them furiously with her gloved fingers.

“Oh dear.”

“What?” She looked up at him quickly, and he was able to see her eyes clearly once more. Dev felt something settle heavily in his chest as he studied her delicate features.

“Your eyes are an unusual color.”

“I-I am happy with them.”

“Yes, they are lovely.” She really was beautiful, right down to the sweet bow of her upper lip. How the hell had she fooled them all for so long?

“If you will not dance with me, will you come out from behind that statue and tell me what it was that I stumbled across two nights ago?”

“No. However, I would be happy to give you a tour of the conservatory. There is a splendid display of orchids, some quite rare. There is one that is over—”

“I will not be deterred, Miss Braithwaite, so you had best come clean.”

“I have no wish to talk of that matter, as I told you earlier, Lord Sinclair.”

“Then it appears we are at an impasse. I wish to know and you will not tell me. You wish me gone from here; I wish to stay.”

“I overheard your sisters once telling someone that you were a good and fair man.”

“That was nice of them.”

“They said no woman would ever have anything to fear from you.”

“I am trying very hard to imagine what conversation prompted those particular compliments from my sisters. I can only suspect that such nice words were from Essex, and surely I had done something wonderful to get into her good graces.”

Her lips pursed, and he saw that she was getting angry but fighting hard to stay in character.

“The point I am trying to make, Lord Sinclair, is that I have no wish to tell you what you want to know, and if you are the gentleman your sisters believe, then you should not force me.”

She was clever; he'd give her that.

“Were my sisters the ones walking about London streets at such an hour, chasing men with dubious intentions and rescuing a child I suspect lives on those streets, I assure you I would be questioning them the same way.”

She wasn't scared of him, Dev realized, only of what he may learn.

“I am nothing to you.”

“Not quite true, but I take your point. However, after saving you from certain

death—”

“Neither Leo nor I would have died from falling on the road,” she scoffed.

“You are certainly as ungrateful as my sisters.”

He saw the small twitch of her lips, and with it came a flash of two dimples he had not known she had. It was yet another glimpse into the woman society knew nothing of.

“Should someone chance upon us, Lord Sinclair, the results would not please either of us; therefore I would ask you to let me pass.”

He knew her words for the truth and yet he could not draw away. Lifting a hand, he traced the bruise marring the pale skin of her jaw. She felt warm to touch and the effect on his body was instant. Every nerve end stood, every pulse thrummed.

“Can we be friends, Miss Braithwaite?”

“No.”

The word made her pout. Just a taste, a small brush of his mouth against hers, and this madness inside him would ease.

“No.” She shook her head as he lowered his. “I don't—”

He swallowed the rest of her words. Dev was gentle, placing small kisses on her lips, each one opening them bit by bit, until she gave him what he wanted. She had the most kissable lips, full against his and shaped to perfection, and in seconds all thought of this being a brief interlude fled from his head.

Had someone doused him in fire he would not have moved. The immediate and powerful reaction he suddenly felt shocked him to his toes. It was as if she touched him everywhere, yet in truth the only skin he could access was her face and lips. It was enough to tell him that when he got this woman undressed and beneath him, theirs would be a fierce passion.

Lilly had never been properly kissed before. There been several pathetic attempts by men who had drunk too much or declared they were enamored by her, which was of course untrue. She’d soon taught them the error of their ways, but this.... Dear God, this was a slow seduction of the senses.

His mouth, which she had previously believed hard, was soft and wicked as it kissed and nibbled hers. She could do nothing to stop the shameful flood of heat that filled her body. It was as if she had relinquished control of herself to him, as if her body were now his to command.

Of their own volition, her arms moved up his body and her fingers dug into the hard muscles on his shoulders. For a brief moment, she almost wished she did not wear gloves, so she could explore the soft hair at his nape.

“Open for me, Lilliana.”

The deep rasp of his words brushed her lips, and she found herself doing as he asked. Felt herself arch into his body, press her breasts against his chest as she sought more from him. More contact, more kisses.

One of his hands cupped her head and angled it so the kiss deepened; the other he kept around her waist, holding her close.

“Lilliana.”

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips, uncertain what he asked for or what she needed.

His mouth moved to her jaw, kissing the length to her ear, and then he pressed his lips to that place just beneath, where her neck started, and the fire inside her grew. Such a small place, and yet when touched in the right way, by the right man, it was alarmingly sensitive. Lilly managed to swallow her cry of regret when he lifted his head.

She drew in an unsteady breath as he stepped back and away from her.

“Please forgive me. I-I had no right to do that, Miss Braithwaite.”

His breathing was as heavy as hers, and she saw that he was as disturbed by the kiss as she.

“I-I don't know what to say to you,” she whispered truthfully. “This, it should not have happened, and I'm not sure why it did.”

Lilly braced herself as he closed the distance between them once more.

“You are a beautiful woman.” He cupped her cheek.

Lilly shook her head. “No, I am not. I'm ugly. Just ask any man in that ballroom.”

“But you are not ugly, are you, Lilliana? In fact you are beautiful, and yet you take great pains that no one sees that beauty.”

No, no, no. How did he know she took great pains to hide from society?

“I have no idea to what you allude, Lord Sinclair. This entire situation has gotten completely out of hand, and it must stop. What happened the other night was the catalyst, and let me say once more that I have no wish to speak of it further, and this”—Lilly waved her hand between them—”is momentary madness, which will pass.”

Before he could speak, she placed a hand on his chest and pushed. He moved, but only, she suspected, because he wished to. Then she was walking from the room. Lilly wanted to run, but made herself walk.

Reaching the door to the ballroom minutes later, she slipped inside, now composed. Well, outwardly at least.

“Miss Braithwaite, how wonderful, I have been looking everywhere for you. Come, we will go to supper together as we have both missed the supper dance, and quite frankly there is not one person I wish to converse with who will aid my digestion.”

Of course the last person she wanted to sit with was one of his sisters, and yet she could find no way to escape Essex Sinclair.

“Thank you, that would be lovely.”

“We shall find somewhere quiet. I have some questions about the knitting I am doing, as I believe you also knit for the children. Different styles that I think will help the children through the winter months.”

Lilly drew in a deep breath as Essex started chattering about the children. She nodded and smiled when appropriate, and tried to ignore the tingling in her breasts and heat that flushed her body. Essex had no idea that minutes ago Lilly had been locked in a heated embrace in the arms of her eldest brother. In fact, she doubted anyone would believe it, even if she climbed onto the supper table and yelled the words to every guest. She was struggling with it herself.

It had been madness; nothing else could explain that frenzied need inside her to be consumed by the man. She'd never felt such raw emotion before. Lilly had never thought of herself as passionate-natured, but right at that moment, there on the cold stone floor, she would have allowed that man any liberties he wished with her person.

“Hello, Cam.”

“Essex, Miss Braithwaite.”

Lilly nodded to the Sinclair male as they took seats close to where he sat with a young lady.

“I shall get us some food, if you will sit here, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Oh, I can get mine.”

“Yes, I know, but then someone may take our seats,” Essex said before walking off.

The family, Lilly thought, were all quite authoritative in their own way.

Had she responded with such abandon simply because he was handsome, and no handsome man had ever paid her any attention? Not that she wanted attention. But yes, surely that was it, Lilly reasoned, relieved to have worked through why she had behaved in such a way. Feeling better, she even smiled as Essex Sinclair arrived back at her side with a plate of food.

“I was wondering if perhaps I could drop some more things around to Temple Street one day, Miss Braithwaite?”

Suddenly the food tasted like ashes in her mouth.

She looked at Essex Sinclair. The green eyes were not as vibrant as her brother’s, and the hair not quite as dark, but there was little doubting the blood tie.

“I—ah, Temple Street?”

“I saw you entering there when last I had some things to deliver. I took them myself as I was heading that way. I thought that perhaps you were in some way involved? Perhaps your family owns the house?”

“Oh, yes of course.”

“Forgive me. You seem uncomfortable with my questions.”

Stay calm, Lilly. Because one person knows you visit Temple Street, does not mean anyone else does.

“I am involved, yes, but prefer to keep my involvement a secret.”

Why was her life suddenly so complicated? First this business with Lord Sinclair, and then with his sister. She had managed to keep her secrets close until these people entered her life.

“Oh, of course, and your secret is safe with me, I assure you. Indeed, I have several secrets I have no wish for anyone to hear.”

Lilly couldn't imagine what this woman could possibly have to hide.

“Excellent. I would be most grateful if you would do so.”

“I assume the house is for the children in some capacity?”

“Yes, we treat any sick children there and offer beds and food for those in need.”

“How wonderful.” Essex looked genuinely interested. “Is there a possibility that I may call around there sometime, and drop off the things I have for the children? I would also like to offer my help if a child is sick or injured. I have quite a bit of knowledge in that direction.”

Lilly wondered if this was what it was like being stomped over by a herd of cats. These Sinclairs did not seem to understand the word no, and gently but forcefully persisted until they got the answers they sought. However, she was surprised that a woman of noble birth knew about healing, and while she had no wish for Essex Sinclair to know too much about her life, she was not one to look away from such an opportunity. The children were often sick enough to warrant calling for a doctor, and yet most doctors had no wish to treat children like the ones who frequented Temple Street.

“Yes, well, if you wish.”

“Excellent. I shall await word from you as to what day suits you best.”

Biting into a savory, Lilly contemplated how she was to bring her life back under control and eradicate Lord Sinclair from it. Many hours later, when she was lying in her bed, she was no closer to finding the answer.

Chapter Five

Dev could hear the laughter as he walked down the long hallway of his uncle's home three mornings after the night he had kissed Lilliana Braithwaite. The nursery was on the top floor and rightly so, considering the noise coming from inside it. Reaching the doorway, he leaned on the frame and looked inside.

“If seventeen frogs hopped seventeen miles and they covered five miles per hour, then how long would it take them to reach Ambrosia Pond? Which I happen to know is the biggest pond in Europe.”

His younger siblings were seated around a table; Somerset perched with one leg beneath her. Warwickshire sprawled, looking like Cambridge, long legs taking up the majority of room under the table. Dorset, who rarely sat still, bounced in her chair. Each was silent as they thought through what their tutor, Mr. Linues, had asked them.

Dev had always believed his sisters should be schooled as thoroughly as his brother, and until they had arrived in London and accepted their aunt and uncle's support, he and his elder siblings had undertaken that task. He also knew his views were very different from the rest of society’s. His uncle surprisingly had followed them and employed Mr. Linues, a young man with a solemn demeanor behind which sat a wry sense of humor.

“How many frogs are there, and is the road often used?”

“There will be no delaying tactics to put your sisters off, thank you, Master Warwick.”

Dev laughed silently. His younger siblings, like their elder brothers and sisters, had lively intelligence. It was only recently he, Cam, Essie, and Eden had found out that they also shared their heightened senses. It had been a blow, as they'd believed them untouched; now, however, they had to teach them how to live with the gifts they had.

Nodding to Mr. Linues, Dev quietly withdrew and went to hunt out his sister. He and Cam lived next door in the other house their uncle owned on the street. They spent most of their time here, especially now their aunt and uncle were away traveling the countryside. It was a beautiful home filled with rich colors and lush furnishings, but more importantly it had plenty of food, and growing up this had not always been the case.

“Breakfast has just been served, my lord.”

“Pennyroll.” Dev nodded to his uncle's butler as he appeared before him. “Do you know the location of Miss Sinclair?”

“She is in the breakfast parlor, my lord.”

Excellent; he could eat and talk to his sister at the same time. He hadn't slept well again, his dreams plagued with visions of Lilly in his arms, her lips pressed to his. Lilliana naked beneath him as he made slow sensual love to her. Lilliana sitting draped across his thighs while he kissed her breasts.

“I shall have another place set for you at once, my lord.”

Nodding, Dev kept walking. Bloody woman. He’d been better off thinking her a simpleton; at least then he had known peace. Since finding out she was not who he had originally thought, she had taken up residence in his head. Then there was the matter of that night he had found her on the street.

He thought he had everything straight in his head about that, but then, he wished she would confirm it.

“Surely the hour is too early for such a scowl, brother?”

“Morning, Essie.” Dev walked around the table to kiss his sister and then picked up the plate the maid had just placed on the table. Heading to the sideboard, he began to lift covers. Once his plate was full, he seated himself across from his sister.

Essie was the gentlest of the Sinclairs and the most comfortable to be with, in Dev's opinion. He’d amended that to usually, after their conversation three nights ago. She rarely raised her voice and could actually sit still and silent for longer than two minutes at a time. They ate in companionable silence until Dev had cleaned his plate and rose to refill it. He then watched his sister savor a mouthful of food before swallowing.

Her heightened sense was taste. She could tell any ingredient with just a mouthful. She could also taste fear, anger, and other emotions, especially if they were being experienced by one of her siblings.

“What plans do you have for the day, Essie?”

She looked better with each week that passed since that bastard had broken her heart. The dark purple bruises beneath her eyes had faded and the strain in her pretty face had eased. The sadness was still there, Dev could see it in her eyes, but her color was stronger, healthier. He checked his siblings over at least once a month, had done so since he was old enough to understand his gift. He knew what color they should be and knew if they were sick or troubled. Essie was a bright pink, but for a while, some of her color had lost its strength.

“I'm going out, Dev.”

“An enjoyable entertainment, depending on where it is you go to.”

He watched Essie as she put jam on a piece of toast, pushing it to the corners slowly, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, I thought to purchase some new gloves.”

She was still not looking at him, and he knew her well enough to know she was not telling him the truth. He just needed to push a little harder. Like Cam, Essie could not lie worth a damn.

“Gloves, now that is an exciting prospect. Is that all you plan to purchase?”

“P-perhaps a bonnet.”

“For which occasion?”

Her knife landed on her plate with a clatter as finally she looked up at him.

“I cannot tell you where I'm going, so don't ask.”

“Are you in danger?”

“No, of course not!”

Relieved, he continued, “Are you meeting someone I have no wish for you to meet?”

“Um... well, as to that, I am not entirely sure.”

“Even more intriguing.”

“Could we discuss the weather instead?”

She gave him a pleading look that failed to move him.

“Just tell me, Essie, you know I'll get the information eventually.” Which he would. She could never keep anything from him.

“No.” She shook her head. “I cannot, as I have promised.”

“Then I shall simply forbid you from leaving the house, or follow you, and you know with my sight I will find you.”

“You cannot forbid me from leaving the house,” she scoffed. “I will simply ignore you and leave anyway. Besides, you do not usually need to know what I do during the day.”

“Not entirely true,” Dev said. Since she'd had her heart broken, he'd been much more diligent.

She picked up her toast and proceeded to break it into bits on her plate.

“It is not that I do not want to tell you, but that I have promised not to speak of it to anyone.”

“Because it will put someone at risk?”

She nodded, and a small kernel of thought entered his head.

“Risk of exposure to society or another kind of risk?”

“The first.”

“So it is a person of noble birth that you are protecting?”

“I have no wish to discuss it further.”

“However, you will.”

Her sigh was loud.

“It is a good deed this person is doing, and I simply wish to help her. I assure you there is nothing nefarious at foot here, Dev.”

“You don't have a nefarious bone in your body; however, there are plenty of people who do. Now, as, if my hunch is accurate, this outing concerns Miss Braithwaite, then let me assure you I would not feel comfortable if you are visiting somewhere that houses her children,” he lied.

He had no problem with his sister seeing Lilliana; the problem lay in the fact that he wanted to see her too.

His sister chewed her lip.

“Let's hear it.”

“I am going to drop some things to her, and as I know of her house, I am taking them there.”

“Her house?”

“Well, she did not directly tell me of her involvement, other than acknowledging that she visits there, but I believe there is more to it than that. She certainly seemed knowledgeable about it when we spoke on the matter.”

“And where is this house, and what will you and Miss Braithwaite be doing there?”

He was subjected to a very frank appraisal from his sister, her green eyes telling him his casual question was anything but. However, she chose not to needle him, a heroic gesture for a Sinclair.

“It is in Temple Street, the house I told you I saw her at. It is a place for sick or injured children who have nowhere else to go. I told her I knew of it and she was not pleased. But after I explained I wished to help in any capacity, she organized for me to visit today.”

“Essie, I—”

“I am not proposing to leap recklessly into danger, Dev. I asked Miss Braithwaite, or rather Lilliana, as she told me to call her, if I could help with caring for the sick children. Dev, I want to do this. I miss healing like I did at home.”

“You know it's only because I worry about you that I am concerned.”

Again he was subjected to a steady look. He wondered when she had perfected that, as it hadn't had quite that degree of penetration before. Perhaps after that bastard broke her heart? Did having your heart broken mean you found determination in the face of so much pain? The idea of her suffering made him feel sick.

Her sigh was loud and long and it made him smile.

“I know it is and I love you the more for it, brother. Yet I need to do things, Dev, and I truly care for these children, as it seems does Lilliana. I have our little ones, yet they do not need me all the time, and when Aunt and Uncle get back they will want to spend time with them also.”

“Are you lonely without Eden?”

She thought about that one for a while. He watched as she lifted her cup and drank slowly. She was so slight he could wrap his fingers around her wrist and they would overlap.

“Sometimes, and yet I visit with Emily often.”

“Really, do you not find that hard?”

It was James's half brother Tolly who’d broken Essie's heart. As James was married to their sister Eden, it tended to complicate matters, or so he had thought. Tolly had wooed Essie but his intent had been to get at his half brother, a feat he had nearly accomplished. After Tolly died, James and Eden had taken his sister, Emily, in to live with them.

“I like Emily, and am glad she has a family now. She loves Samantha dearly, too.”

Dev smiled as he thought about Lady Samantha Raven. Although their mothers were different, the Duke and his sister were raised by their father. He had mistreated them both terribly. She had been timid, but now, he was pleased to say, she was anything but.

“It is hard for Emily, as not only is she illegitimate but also born into poverty, and explaining this to Samantha is not easy.”

“James is convinced that he wants Emily to enter society, yet I wonder how hard that will be for her.”

“The bastard child of a duke,” Essie said. “Very hard, I should think, even with all of us and James's title behind her.”

“Greetings, fellow Sinclairs,” Cam said, entering the room. “Is it not a day of incredible beauty? Let me at the food!”

“Why, suddenly, do I have indigestion?”

“Harsh, brother, and unnecessary,” Cam said, giving his sister a kiss before walking to the sideboard and sniffing loudly.

While to most this would be bad manners, the Sinclairs were used to it from their brother, as his heightened sense was smell.

“You do realize that your shirt points will blind you should you impale yourself upon them.”

“I'll have you know,” Cam said around a mouth full of ham, “that I am considered quite an arbiter of fashion.”

“By who?” Dev said as Essie giggled.

“Many. In fact, Lord Cooper asked if he could have the name of my tailor just last night.”

“No doubt so he could avoid him at all costs.”

“Jealousy is an ugly trait.” Cam sat with a plate overflowing with food. “What are you two discussing?”

“This and that,” Dev said.

“My favorite topic of conversation.”

“We were discussing what I am doing today and then moved on to Emily,” Essie added.

“Now there's a thought to spoil a perfectly good day,” Cam groused.

“She is a lovely young lady, Cam, and it wouldn't hurt you to be nicer to her.”

“She is about as interesting as a dishrag, Ess, and looks little better. The woman looks at me as if I am about to ravish her whenever I draw near. Seriously, you can tell her that her virtue is safe with me.”

“That is nasty, Cambridge, and not worthy of you!” Essie snapped.

Dev kept out of the discussion brewing. Essie was more than capable of handling Cam, and in fact it was nice to see her spirit.

“I don't like her. How she can be James's sister is beyond me.”

“What's not to like?” Dev had to ask. “Emily is polite and well-spoken; in fact there are few women who are easier to converse with.”

Color filled Cam's cheeks as he shifted in his seat. Dev and Essie kept their eyes trained on him, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

“She called me a man of little sense and no morals.”

“And the problem with that statement is?” Dev drawled.

“Go to hell.”

“What did you do to her, Cam?” Essie asked, ignoring her brother’s blasphemy.

He looked at his food then at his cup of tea then back down at his food before answering. “Why do I have to have done anything? The woman's a termagant.”

If you wanted to survive as a Sinclair, you learned your siblings’ weaknesses and exploited them when the moment presented itself. Cam's biggest weakness was that he hated silence. Therefore, Essie and Dev stayed silent and continued eating.

“I won't tell you.”

Dev swallowed his smile and winked at his sister. They would not have to wait long.

“I told her that she would never find herself a husband looking the way she does!”

Now that, Dev hadn't expected. “Cam, you are an idiot!”

“It came out wrong,” he said, looking sheepish.

“One wonders how that could come out right,” Dev said, lowering his fork. “Remember, brother, make sure your brain is engaged before your mouth.”

“It was early,” Cam said, waving around his fork. “I hadn't eaten anything for hours.”

“Now that I seriously doubt,” Essie said, getting to her feet.

“The woman has a way of getting under my skin. It's all that meek-mannered stuff; it grates on me.”

Dev, who had also risen, looked down at his brother long enough that the younger Sinclair lowered his eyes.

“Miss Tolly has had a life even you could never understand, Cambridge. She has been subjected to poverty and starvation and most probably ridicule. Her nature is, I am sure, a direct result of that.”

Cam squirmed in his seat as Dev continued.

“She is now related to us by the union of our sister to her brother. Therefore she is family and under our protection. I will say nothing further, only that were one of our sisters treated to such shabby manners you would likely seek retribution.”

Cam sighed then looked at his brother. “You do that better than any person I know.”

“Do what?”

“Serve up a scolding without raising your voice. I am now duly shamed and will seek to apologize with haste.”

“Excellent. Now, Essie and I are going out. The children are with their tutor until lunchtime. If you want to join them, I'm sure they will welcome your presence.”

Cam thought about Dev's words then nodded. “I wonder if they've had story time yet.”

Essie laughed as she followed Dev from the room.

“I don't believe I invited you to accompany me to visit with Miss Braithwaite, Dev. Perhaps you dancing with her and that other incident that happened the other night will go some way toward changing your dislike of each other. However, I don't think she'd want you knowing about the house in Temple Street.”

Following his sister silently down the stairs to the front entrance, he thought about his words.

“It is my duty to ensure your safety, sister, and to do that I need to see where it is you go. Starting with Temple Street.”

Essie scoffed, then snorted as she put on her jacket, hat, and gloves.

“Do you honestly believe I will fall for that line? You are interested in Miss Braithwaite, no matter how much you deny it.”

Taking his time, he too put on his hat and gloves before answering.

“I have no idea what you are referring to. There is also the small matter of her choice of clothing. I could never befriend a woman who wears mustard and brown together.” Dev faked a shudder.

Essie looked at him for several seconds and then, smiling, she patted his hand and walked out the front door. Dev followed, not liking the look on her face one bit.

Chapter Six

Lilly woke slowly and lay in the dark for long minutes, remembering her dreams. The children had been screaming and running, trying to evade a man whose face she could not identify. Desperate to reach them, she had run too, but could never quite catch up to them. Then he had been there, Lord Sinclair. Like some dark avenging angel, he had protected the children and her.

What did that mean? Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs out of bed.

“It means he is occupying far too many of your thoughts, and it must stop.”

That kiss had disturbed her, and not just because it was the first one that had not repulse her. Her reaction to that man was terrifying. Lilly didn't touch people; she'd learned early in her life that the results were not pleasing, so she kept her gloves on at all times. But him, Lord Sinclair, he had touched her face and neck, kissed her lips, and Lord, the sensations had been beyond anything she could describe. A thousand tiny feelings had traveled through her body, and Lilly had been a slave to them, to him, within seconds. Never again, she vowed.

“I will have a tray in my room, Bee,” she said as her maid opened the curtains.

“Your brother wishes you to come down for breakfast, Miss Braithwaite.”

Groaning, Lilly buried her head in the pillow.

“Why? What is Nicholas doing out of bed at such an hour?”

Her maid was tall and willowy, but Lilly had realized that in the case of Beatrice Moulds, appearances were deceiving. The woman was as strong as a carthorse.

“As to that, I am unsure. However your aunt will also be there.”

Lilly stripped off her nightdress and stepped into the steaming tub of water. Her family rarely ate together. She and Aunt Vi usually, but never Nicholas, as he was sleeping off whatever night of depravity he had participated in.

“We leave for Temple Street immediately I finish my morning meal, Bee, so please be ready.”

They were to meet Essex Sinclair there. And while Lilly was not comfortable about the fact she was Lord Sinclair's sister, there was little she could do about the matter, as her hand had been forced.

She dressed and walked to the breakfast parlor.

“Your family are seated, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Thank you, Hopkins.”

“You are late!”

Ignoring her brother because she knew it would annoy him, Lilly kissed her aunt's cheek.

“Good morning, Aunt Vi.”

“Hello, darling. I trust you slept well?”

“Indeed I did.”

Their mother's sister, Lady James, had come to live with them after Lilly's parents’ deaths, as her children had set up their own homes and had no need of her. Gentle and sweet-natured, she was the perfect chaperone for Lilly, because she was happy to let her come and go as she pleased from the house.

Taking her seat, she nodded to the maid to pour her tea.

“I have gathered everyone here this morning to make an announcement.”

“One hopes it takes you from the house for an extended period of time,” Lilly said, reaching for the toast.

She and her brother had once been friends, but all that changed when their father had passed away and Nicholas began to believe himself too important to spend time with her.

“I will ignore that statement in favor of my own,” he said in a haughty voice. “I have decided, Lilliana, you will marry before this season is over, and I have selected your bridegroom.”

Lowering her knife, Lilly looked up. “I beg your pardon?” Stay calm, Lilly.

“You are twenty-five and it is well past time for you to marry.”

Where she was fair, he was dark, his eyes almost black. Taller than her, he was a man who carried no spare weight, and clothes sat well on his lean body. She knew plenty of women who certainly thought so.

“Why the concern for my unmarried state now, Nicholas, when you never usually care for anyone but yourself?”

“It is time,” he snapped. “You are a disgrace to me.”

Lilly's grandmother had left her money that she received in a small yearly sum until her twenty-sixth year. This she spent on the children and Temple Street. The rest would come to her as long as she did not marry first. If she did, it stayed in her family, as she would have no need of it—or so her grandmother had believed.

This was why Lilly had taken pains to remain unattractive when she entered society, not entirely sure whether Nicholas would force her to wed whoever he wished simply to get his hands on her money.

One more year and she would receive her money and set up house on her own. Then she would be rid of him, and could live her life as she chose to. Until today, her plans had been working well.

“Lord Danderfield has inferred he will offer for you soon, and I have told him you will accept.”

“What?” The toast she had just swallowed threatened to choke her. “You cannot force me to wed, Nicholas.”

Her brother's eyes narrowed.

“I can, actually. As no one has offered for you in three seasons, sister, I have decided to take control of the matter. It is time you were taken in hand.”

Stay calm, Lilly.

“Why all of a sudden does this concern you, Nicholas?” Lilly looked at her brother. There had to be a reason; she just needed to find out what. “Father left behind plenty of money; surely you do not need mine also?”

He kept his eyes steady on hers, but she saw something flicker, and then it was gone. Shooting her aunt a look, Lilly noticed she did not look happy. However, she would never naysay Nicholas. He scared her; Lilly was sure of it.

“I have no wish to marry and have my sister still in my household. Therefore, I have decided you will wed Danderfield, and that is all that I will say on the matter.”

“What's happened, Nicholas? For two years you were more than happy with me running your household and ensuring the right amount of starch was in your neckties, and suddenly now you are happy to marry me off to a man old enough to be my grandfather.”

“It is my duty as your brother to see you comfortable and well cared for.”

“Well cared for,” Lilly scoffed. “With Danderfield? Surely you jest.”

“My mind is made up!” he roared.

She realized then. “You've spent it all, haven't you?”

“Lilliana,” this came from her aunt. “I think you have said enough. Your brother wishes only your happiness.”

“No, he doesn't, Aunt Vi. He cares nothing about you or me, only himself, isn't that right, Nicholas.” Her brother would not meet her eyes. “And he has now gambled every cent of my father's money away and wants mine. But he won't get it,” Lilly vowed, climbing to her feet. “I will fight you with everything I have at my disposal, Nicholas. So if you pursue this, be ready for a battle!”

“I am your guardian!” he thundered, rising also. “You will do as I bloody well say!”

“I will not be sacrificed on the altar of your greed, brother, so you can continue to live your licentious lifestyle. If you think I will marry a man old enough to be my grandfather, you can think again.”

Lilly then walked slowly to the door and left the room with her brother roaring at her to stay.

By the time she had reached her room, her hands were shaking and her knees weak. Lilly had never had an encounter like that with her Nicholas, simply because she took the path of least resistance, and before today, he had left her alone. He could do as he said, she knew that. He had the power, but she would not let him win.

“Are you unwell, Miss Braithwaite?”

“I'm fine, Bee, just thinking,” Lilly said as she paced around her room.

“What did your brother say to take the color from your cheeks? You're whiter than a ghost.”

“He said lots of things, as he always does. Now don't fuss, and let us get ready to leave.”

Bee helped Lilly into her coat and bonnet. Grabbing her gloves and reticule, she then left the room with her maid on her heels.

Nicholas was about to leave the house also as she arrived at the front door. Ignoring him, Lilly walked past.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” she snapped

“Lilliana, as your brother—”

“Brother? That statement is laughable, Nicholas.” Lilly kept her voice low, having no wish for the servants to overhear their conversation. “Brothers care for their siblings. You, however, care only for yourself.”

He reached for her, trying to stop her leaving the house, but she stepped to the side, out of range, and continued walking. She did not stop until she was seated inside the carriage her grandmother had left her. She felt her brother’s eyes on her as the carriage pulled from the drive, but she did not look back.

Lord Danderfield, the man her brother proposed she wed, was nearing seventy and natured like Nicholas. Lilly could imagine her existence should she yield and marry the man. Why did he want her? Surely he did not need the money of her dowry, as she knew he had wealth and estates, so what was his motivation? Or more importantly, what bribe had her brother offered him to offer for her?

Thoughts spiraled in hopeless circles around her head on the short journey across town. Finally she forced them aside as the carriage pulled up outside the little house. Taking the five steps up to the neat brown front door, Lilly looked up at the property that she alone owned. Mine, she thought, feeling the cold knot inside her begin to unravel. He can never take this from me. Lifting a gloved hand, she knocked.

“Miss Braithwaite, the door is always open, especially to you.”

Mr. Davey stood before her with his perpetual smile in place. Short and stout with a sprinkling of gray hair, the man could lift her spirits with just a look.

“This is your home, Mr. Davey.” Lilly stepped inside. They had this conversation every time she called. “I own it, but you live in it. Therefore, you deserve to open the door to callers who knock.”

He harrumphed, as he always did.

“A Miss Sinclair is due to call in an hour. I shall be in the parlor by then, going over the accounts, so show her in there, please.”

“Of course.”

After removing her coat and bonnet, she handed both to him.

“Come, Bee, we should have time for a cup of tea before Miss Sinclair arrives, as I missed breakfast.”

The kitchens at Temple Street were one of Lilly's favorite places to visit. Walking down the long pale blue hall, she noted the table with a vase bursting with a jumble of flowers. Such a small thing, yet beautiful in its simplicity, unlike the flowers arranged to perfection in her brother's house. Turning left, Lilly took the stairs down.

“Good morning, Mrs. Davey,” Lilly said, smiling to the woman standing at the bench with her hands in a bowl of something. Built like her husband, she had thick red hair and bright blue eyes that never missed a thing.

“Good morning, Miss Braithwaite, Bee.”

Pulling out her flour-covered hands, she wiped them on a cloth. “You take a seat and I'll have you both a nice cup of tea and cinnamon bun ready in minutes.”

Lilly loved this room; it was always warm and smelled of so many delightful scents. Often Mrs. Davey was singing or laughing, and it was a place she had spent many happy hours in. It was a hive of activity, even though only one person worked in it.

“I would love a cinnamon bun, if you have one spare.”

“Of course I have one spare for you, Miss Braithwaite.”

After securing the house in Temple Street, Lilly had had Wilson seek out the perfect couple to run it, and it had been he who recommended the Daveys. The couple had been the perfect fit.

“Sit.”

Lilly ignored the seat Mrs. Davey waved her to, and moved to sit on the bench. With a small leap, she landed on the surface.

“I'm sure sitting on a bench swinging your legs is not proper behavior for a young lady of your station,” Mrs. Davey clucked.

“And yet I have been doing it for many months now,” Lilly said, moving her legs slowly back and forth. She wasn't sure why she enjoyed sitting up there, but she did. Perhaps because she rarely got to behave in such a way, or perhaps because this house was hers, and she could do as she wished in it. “Besides, being a lady is not always easy. There are so many rules and etiquette to follow. It is just nice to swing one's legs occasionally.”

“I'm sure there is a deeper meaning in there,” Bee said, taking down cups.

Lilly just being allowed in this room had been a major step. The Daveys, at first, had treated her like royalty, and drinking tea with a woman of noble birth had taken something of an adjustment. The first time she’d leaped onto the bench, Mrs. Davey had nearly had conniptions.

“Here's your tea, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Davey.”

“That mark on your chin has faded some, but it’s still a nice plum color.”

Sipping tea, Lilly was soon chatting with the ladies and realized that if one day this was the place she was forced to flee to, she would be quite happy about that. Because one thing Lilly knew with absolute conviction was that she would not wed Lord Danderfield. To ensure her brother did not force her, and that she remained single until she reached her twenty-sixth year, she may have to hide, and this would be the perfect place.

Chapter Seven

“Must you come inside, Dev? You can see it is not a house of ill repute or some seedy establishment that I will never return from,” Essie said, exasperated as Dev followed her up the stairs to the little brick house. “Miss Braithwaite was not happy that I knew of its existence, so I can only imagine how she is going to feel now you know.”

She had been singing this particular tune the entire journey across town, and he had told her in no uncertain terms that he was not leaving until he had seen inside. Of course his main reason was to see Lilliana again, but he wasn't telling his sister that.

“I see a brick façade, Essex, behind which anything could be housed,” Dev said in a reasonable tone that made her teeth snap together.

“She may not have even arrived yet. Then what will you do?”

“Who?”

“I will slap you in a minute, Devonshire Sinclair, just see if I don't!” Essie snapped.

“Such unladylike behavior, Essex.” Dev tut-tutted, because when a Sinclair had an opening to needle a sibling he took it.

“You, sir, are a dastardly cur!”

“I do believe that hurt, Essex.”

“Oaf.”

“Now that's more like the sister I know and love,” he said, and then gave a bark of laughter as she poked her tongue out at him.

Standing back as she knocked on the front door, he watched it open. The man who appeared was neatly dressed and wore a gentle smile that made his own lips twitch to respond.

“Surely a murderous individual,” his sister hissed at him. Dev smiled, but did not reply.

“My name is Miss Sinclair and this is my brother, Lord Sinclair. We have come to see Miss Braithwaite.”

“Miss Braithwaite told me to expect your arrival, Miss Sinclair. Please come this way. She is at present taking tea in the kitchens, but told me to see you to the parlor. I shall collect her.”

“Tea. Dear God, run for your lives,” Essie muttered. “Taking tea is such a dangerous pastime.”

“Careful you don't cut the inside of your mouth with that tongue, sister.”

“Oh, please do not disturb her. Perhaps we could simply take tea there also?” Essie said, smiling.

“Oh, I-I'm not sure that would be right.” He looked worried, and Dev thought he was unused to receiving visitors such as they. Deciding he wanted to see Lilliana Braithwaite taking tea in the kitchens, he said, “Please lead on, sir. My sister wishes to take tea in the kitchens.”

The man moved at his command, and Dev motioned Essie to follow. He heard a woman's laughter as they drew near, the sound carefree and light, and he knew it was her because his body tensed in expectation. Drawing in a deep breath, Dev forced himself to appear calm as he walked into the kitchen.

Miss Lilliana Braithwaite was seated on the kitchen bench, swinging her legs like a child while eating a large bun. Her face was turned in profile, but even with his limited view he saw the genuine smile she was bestowing on the two other women in the room. It was open and natural and held him motionless.

God, she was sweet.

“Miss Braithwaite.”

She turned as Essex spoke, the smile falling from her face as she saw him. The heat from the kitchens had put color in her cheeks, and sugar dotted to her lips. Dev battled the impulse to close the distance between them and lick it off.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

The bun fell from her hands as she scrambled to climb off the bench. In her haste she nearly landed in a tangle of limbs on the floor. Stumbling several steps, she managed to remain upright.

“Forgive me for bringing him.”

Dev watched his sister hurry forward to clasp Lilliana's fingers, but she quickly pushed them behind her back so Essie was forced to touch her arm instead.

“I know you have no wish for anyone to know of Temple Street, but he forced me to tell him.”

Dev withstood glares from both women.

“He wanted to check that I was not going anywhere dangerous.”

She still did not face him directly, but Dev kept his eyes on the delightfully flustered Lilliana. Unlike her choice of gowns in the evenings, this one was a simple cream muslin day dress with small blue flowers. The material did not swamp her figure, and allowed him to see what he had already guessed: Lilliana Braithwaite was a curved and lush bundle of woman. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and adorned with nothing more sinister than a blue velvet band that circled her head.

Dev watched as she retrieved her gloves from the bench behind her and hastily pulled them on, then her glasses.

“Oh please, don't—”

“I like to wear gloves in company.”

She cut Essie's words off, and Dev wondered at her need to cover her hands. Were they scarred in some way, or was she simply a lady who did not like to have people touching her?

“Oh, well then.” Essie looked uncomfortable. “I am truly sorry he is here.” She scowled at Dev once more.

“Please do not fuss, Miss Sinclair. Your brother is protective toward you, and I cannot fault that.”

“Essex, please.”

Dev watched as she smoothed the fingers of her gloves in little agitated movements.

“My secret is out, it seems.”

“Secret?” Dev queried, realizing that once again her voice appeared different from the high, grating tone she used in the evenings.

Reluctantly she turned to face him. “I run a high-class brothel here, Lord Sinclair, and as you can see Mrs. Davey is my highest-paid girl.” Enjoying her new role, the housekeeper erupted into giggles. “And it is my intention to recruit your sisters.”

Dev's eyes went to the bruise she had received that night he had caught her. The night that had started his intrigue with this woman.

“It is changing color,” he said, moving closer and running his thumb over her chin. He wanted to touch her, needed to see if his reaction to her had been merely a single experience.

It wasn't. He dropped his hand. It tingled.

“You can leave now, my lord, your sister is safe here.” She backed away from him.

“I protect what is mine, Miss Braithwaite, and I will not apologize for checking my sister's movements.”

Her eyes were amazing this close. Even through the small round lenses, he could see the pale lavender color.

“Well as you can see, I am not bent on anything that will harm your sister, so you may leave.”

“Take your guests to the front parlor, Miss Braithwaite, and I will bring tea.”

“That won't be necessary, as Lord Sinclair is leaving.”

She wanted him gone, and as far away from her as possible.

“I have nothing pressing until this afternoon, Miss Braithwaite, and if Mrs. Davey has a spare cinnamon bun on hand then I would very much like to stay for tea.” Dev followed up his words with a smile, and the housekeeper giggled, as did the maid.

“Stop flirting with Lilliana's staff,” Essie hissed.

“Lord Sinclair is leaving,” Lilliana said, standing still.

“He wishes for tea and one of my cinnamon buns, Miss Braithwaite. Surely you can allow him that?”

Dev could see she did not want to allow him anything.

“Will you show me around your house, Miss Braithwaite? Perhaps I can offer my assistance in some way to aid your charitable works?” he said.

“No,” she said, and then she sighed. “Follow me,” she added ungraciously and turned to leave the room.

She stomped up the first and second steps, and Dev felt it was time to extend the hand of friendship and hope she did not use it to beat him over the head repeatedly.

“I know you would never hurt my sister, Miss Braithwaite, and ask that you forgive me if you believed otherwise.”

Her shoulders remained rigid, and she did not respond to his overture.

“I'm sorry I misjudged you for so long. Essex has told me of your good deeds.”

“And I am supposed to fall at your feet in gratitude.” She rounded on him at the top of the stairs. “You are an arrogant, judgmental man.”

“All true, to be fair,” came his sister's reply from over his shoulder.

“Yes, thank you, Essex,” Dev muttered. “You judged me too, Lilliana,” he added, looking at her, their eyes now level.

Her eyes narrowed. “How?”

“You just said I was rude and judgmental, yet have never spoken to me to find out if indeed that was true.” Dev congratulated himself on his comeback as he stopped on the step below hers. All he had to do was lean forward....

“I have watched you, as you no doubt have watched me, and you are a man who likes his own way... always. And we have spoken, just a few nights ago.”

She blushed at the memory, but did not look away.

“Also true.”

“Yes, thank you, Essie, I don't think she needs your encouragement. Will you show me around your house, Lilliana? Please?”

“I gave you no leave to call me Lilliana.” She then turned and walked down the hall and into a small parlor.

“Perhaps, seeing as you are meant to be on my side, sister, you could endeavor to paint me in a more flattering light?”

Dev took Essie's arm as they followed.

“What do I get?”

“I'll take you to that exhibition in the park with all those herbs and flowers you have been harping on about.”

“Done.”

His sister patted his arm and sailed past him into the room, leaving him shaking his head at the mercenary nature of his siblings.

The parlor was painted in pale blue as the hall had been, and furnished simply yet comfortably.

“Will you tell me about the boy you rescued the other night, Lilliana?” Dev and Essie sat while Lilliana moved to stand behind a chair, her gloved hands gripping the back. It was a protective pose, and he hated that she felt the need to do so in his company, yet understood why. A few nights ago he had kissed her senseless.

“You have obviously furnished your sister with the details of that incident?”

She wasn't pleased about that.

“I do not have secrets from my siblings.”

Essie, for once, held her tongue.

“You must know it was reckless of you to be out at such an hour, on those streets, with only a footman at your back.”

“How I conduct myself, my lord, is of no concern to you. Therefore I would ask you to keep your opinions to yourself. In fact, unlike the ballrooms, this is my property, and I do not have to tolerate your presence. Therefore I wish you would leave.”

“I did not know you owned it.”

She realized how much she'd given away in anger, her eyes going from him to Essex. But the thought did not subdue her for long. “Of course I own it. I would not be taking tea in the kitchens otherwise!”

Dev wasn't sure how one led to the other but instead smiled politely. How had she raised the funds to purchase this place? He doubted that fool she had for a brother gave her a penny toward it.

“I think you should leave.”

“I would rather stay,” Dev said politely, which made her teeth snap together.

“Will you show me around your house, Lilliana?” Essie threw her brother a look he could not interpret, which was nothing new; his sisters were a constant mystery to him. “My brother will follow but keep his comments to himself, and let me assure you that, while he can be annoying, he is the best of men most of the time.”

Lilliana's eyes darted from Essie to him and back again. So many emotions chased through the lavender depths it was impossible to decipher each.

“All right, I will show you around. However I have no wish to hear any words of criticism or condemnation from you, Lord Sinclair.”

Essie laughed with delight as Lilly finished speaking. “Oh, what a treat it is to have another female put you in your place, brother dearest.”

“I shall endeavor to behave,” Dev drawled. He then mouthed, “Deal's off” to his sister when Lilly turned away.

“Please follow me.”

Temple Street was three floors. The lower housed the kitchens, and the second was Mr. and Mrs. Davey's living accommodations. The third, where they currently stood, was for the children who came to be cared for. Everything was scrupulously clean and bright, Dev thought, looking at the green curtains in the room they had just entered.

“Hello, Sam, how are you feeling today? Is your leg still hurting you?”

The small boy was dressed in a blue nightshirt and tucked into the third bed in a row of five. Behind him were plump, colored pillows, and over his legs a blanket of red wool. Beside him lay several books and an odd-shaped soft thing that looked like a multicolored pillow; however, Dev was sure he noted a set of ears poking out the top. He was pale and thin and his eyes held more shadows than a child's should. He had existed on streets filled with sights that would make most people shudder, and his face bore the markings of that struggle.

“Sam had an accident and hurt his leg as he fell from a rooftop,” Lilliana said.

Dev had two weaknesses in his life: his family and children. Looking at Lilliana, he had a feeling deep inside that he was about to expand those to three, but as yet was unsure how he felt about that.

He couldn't cope with children in pain, and often struggled to mask his emotions when he saw a child dressed in rags on the streets, or one being mistreated. He gave money where he could, did whatever was in his capacity to do, yet knew the problem was far greater than that. The issue needed to be brought to the attention of those who woke daily in soft beds and large houses.

“It is not hurting near as much, Lilly, and Mrs. Davey says I'll be up out of bed in a while. Mr. Davey read me a story last night.”

Lilly. The name suited her, Dev thought as he watched the boy's eyes shoot first to Essie then him. He wasn't comfortable in their presence, and who could blame him? Gentry in his eyes were people who cared little for the plight of the child who lived on the street.

To his surprise, Lilliana sat on his bed and stroked the boy's hair, then examined the pillow with ears. Sam leaned into her and Dev could see trust in the gesture. They shared a genuine delight in each other’s company that should not have been there. A boy from the streets and a lady born into society. He wondered what had forced her onto this path. What secrets was she hiding? Shame washed over him again for his treatment of her. The woman before him was far from empty-headed. She had simply been hiding the real Lilliana from society.

“By any chance, Sam, is that a Bulgularas two-eared Daturmond?” Dev pointed to the squishy thing with ears. “You see, I have twin sisters and a small brother who would be delighted to own one just the same.”

Sam snuffled and then lifted the squishy thing for Dev's inspection.

“Good grief, it is,” Dev said, reaching over Lilly's head to take the offering. “What you have here, Sam, is very rare indeed.”

This time the boy giggled, sounding like every small boy should, and the sound made Dev's heart lighten.

Lilly didn't want to feel any harmony with the dark and dangerous lord, but watching Sam smile as Lord Sinclair continued to tell him a ludicrous tale about the Bulgularas two-eared Daturmond, she felt something unfamiliar stir in her chest.

Lilly did not feel things for people other than her children. Yes, she cared for her aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Davey, and Bee, then there was Wilson, but no one had ever really made her fingers and toes tingle the way looking at and touching Lord Sinclair did.

“They eat only the rarest form of Daturmond seeds, found only three nights a year on the first three days of the Bulgularas Festival.”

“Where do the seeds grow?”

“Well now, that's the real problem, Sam.”

She watched Lord Sinclair take the seat Lilly vacated.

“Dev is very good with children, Lilliana.” Essie led her to the window. “He is a master storyteller and believe me, he has had plenty of practice over the years.”

Lilly sat at the small table in one of the chairs and watched Sam laugh as Lord Sinclair continued with his tale. She didn't want to like him, yet she had to admit he was good with children.

He was disturbing, and unsettled her. Finding her in the kitchens, swinging her legs as she ate a cinnamon bun had not been an ideal start, especially as she was determined after what they had shared in that conservatory that he would see only the persona she donned for society. That idea had not worked. Lilly couldn't find it in herself to be silly here. No simpering or gushing, not at Temple Street. Here, she was simply the person she wanted to be.

“An ideal elder brother, then.”

“Oh yes, I cannot fault him, even though his faults are many.”

Lilly tried to stifle the flash of jealousy she felt as Essie threw her brother a fond look. Her brother cared nothing for her.

“I am knitting some hats with scarves as a trial for your children, and will send them over when they are finished.”

Lilly turned her attention away from the disturbing nobleman and equally disturbing thoughts running through her head to focus on his sister. She and Essie discussed the children's needs.

“How many children do you watch over, Lilly?”

“In truth, there are many who need help. However, some of them are too scared to come forward when they are in trouble or unwell. Those that do are usually desperate and have little choice.”

“Do they come here or must you always go into the streets to find them?”

“One of the boys, Toby, lives here with Mr. and Mrs. Davey. He was injured and has stayed ever since,” Lilly said, shooting a quick look at Sam. He would not stay here; she would see him safe to one of her family's estates. Unlike Toby, he would not refuse to go.

“He is my eyes and ears. The children go to him if they need me, and he takes things to them. Sometimes I will go to a place that I know is safe to see them. When winter arrives, some of the cold nights send them here. Mr. and Mrs. Davey will feed them, and let them sleep in the kitchens when the beds are full.”

“It must be hard for you to leave here after the season,” Essex said.

Lilly nodded. In fact, it was unbearable to leave London with her family and retire to her brother's estate. Mrs. Davey wrote with updates on how the children were doing, yet it was not enough. One more year and she would be able to do as she wished—if she could stay unmarried, that was.

They talked for a while longer and then Sam called her back to the bed.

“Did you enjoy that story, Sam?” Lilly said.

“Yes, and Lord Sinclair is going to come back soon and tell me another one.”

“Is he?”

“I have promised the boy. Therefore I will deliver on that promise, Lilliana.”

He had moved to stand beside her and Lilly fought the urge to shuffle away. This man had kissed her—really kissed her—and she had felt it to the soles of her feet.

“Toby was here this morning, Lilly, and he says another boy is missing.”

“When did it happen?” Lilly took Sam's fingers and held them tight. She had not stopped this happening as she had promised.

“Last night. They got little Teddy this time. He just vanished like the others, and no one knows where to.”

Aware that the Sinclairs were listening, Lilly lowered her voice.

“It's all right, Sam. I will pay another visit to the local Watch House to look into it, and demand that someone investigates the matter at once. But right now it is most important that you rest and heal.”

“Toby said to tell you he was going out to see if anyone had heard anything. He'll come back later and tell you what he's learned or send you a message.”

“All right. Now, you sleep and I will come and see you before I go.”

She hugged Sam and kissed the top of his head. Unlike the adults in her life, her children expected nothing from her but what was in her power to give.

“Good day, Sam.”

“Good day to you, Lord Sinclair, Miss Sinclair.”

Lilly closed the door softly behind them as they left Sam to rest. She led the way back downstairs, and this time she would insist Lord Sinclair depart. She did not want him in her house a second longer.

Chapter Eight

“What was Sam talking about, Lilliana?” Essex asked as they reached the parlor door on their way to the front door. “Is it connected with what took place the other night with Dev?”

“It matters not.” She dismissed the words and took another step, but a hand stopped her.

“Perhaps we could help with this problem?”

“It is my problem, Lord Sinclair.”

“I have brought the tea.”

“Lord Sinclair was just leaving, Mrs. Davey.” Lilly tried to head off her housekeeper.

“I cannot leave without eating one of those buns, Mrs. Davey. In fact, I am half tempted to move into Temple Street myself, if this is the standard of fare I would be assured.”

Lilly doubted the housekeeper would fall for such obvious flattery, yet when she glanced at the woman, her cheeks were flushed and she was beaming.

“It is an honor, my lord, to have a healthy appetite in the house. We do not have many visitors.”

Lilly could hardly stay in the hall when he and his sister were making their way back into the parlor behind Mrs. Davey, but she wanted to. In fact, she was tempted to walk out the front door and leave them there.

“Can I pour you a cup, Miss Braithwaite?”

“No thank you, Mrs. Davey.”

“Does not eat near enough,” Lilly heard the woman mutter as she left the room.

She did not want to sit, because that gave Lord Sinclair a target to look at and she did not feel comfortable under his disturbing gaze, so she walked around the room. Surely the height of rudeness when her guests sat, and yet she cared little about that. This was Temple Street; here she did not cater to the whims of others, only the children.

“How long have young children been going missing off the streets of London, and how came you to be chasing that man and rescuing one of them?”

Lord Sinclair asked the question.

“If I tell you, will you leave?”

“Tell us and then we shall see.”

“Come, Lilliana. We only wish to help, nothing more. Tell us what is happening to those sweet children.”

Lilly told them then, because of Essex Sinclair's words. They were children who needed all the help they could get, and perhaps in telling their story she would achieve that. Much as he unsettled her, Lord Sinclair had powerful people at his back, and with a word from him, those people may champion her cause also.

“Six children have now gone missing over the last four weeks. Wilson and I have called at the local Watch House after each abduction to alert them and ensure someone would look into the matter. However, I was dismissed each time as a hysterical woman. I then demanded to see whoever was in charge, but was merely waved away as if I were some addlepated woman with few wits.”

“Well, it is fair to say that I, and others in society, believe you just that, Lilliana.”

“Dev!” Essex Sinclair looked at her brother, horrified. Lilly, however, had the ridiculous urge to laugh. She swallowed it.

“I have no idea what you speak of.”

He studied her.

“Your dresses are hideous, your hair would please any bird looking for a nest, and you speak like an empty-headed fool.”

“Please do not hold back, my lord. It is my fondest wish to receive unwanted fashion advice from you. Not to mention slurs upon my character.” Lilly was sure she should be angrier at his attack, and yet she wasn't. Perhaps because, for once, someone was seeing the real her.

“Dev, you are being rude.”

“But truthful.” He did not look at his sister but kept his eyes on Lilly.

“I have no wish to discuss this matter further. You wanted to hear about the missing children, and so I told you. I did not do so to offer you the opportunity to assassinate my character.”

“Perhaps if you had stayed calm when speaking with the men at the Watch House, it may have helped.”

Essex Sinclair groaned at her brother's words.

“How do you know I did not stay calm?” Lilly demanded. “It is extremely hard to stay calm when dealing with idiots. One of the men had the audacity to say it was a blessing to get a few of the children off the streets, like you would rid a home of vermin!”

He raised one hand. “I am not accusing you, just pointing out that you will get nowhere if you do not stay calm and rational.”

“I was entirely rational!”

Lilly looked at Essex when she snuffled.

“If you were this calm and rational, then I can imagine how the meeting at the Watch went, Lilly.”

“Miss Braithwaite,” she snapped. “Not Lilliana or Lilly!”

“Forgive me,” he said, and the wicked look in his eyes did not appease her.

“I do not like people patronizing me, nor do I like men believing that because I don't wear pants I am therefore a fool.”

“I shall remember not to make the same mistake.”

Lilly did not like the way he phrased those words, as they suggested the future included more time spent in each other’s company.

“He is always calm and rational,” Essex then said, nodding to her brother. “It is most frustrating for the rest of his siblings.”

“Someone has to be. We would continually be arguing if I did not put a stop to it.”

Lilly watched him swallow another mouthful of what, by her count, was his third cinnamon bun. He would be an uncomfortable husband for whoever he married. Intimidating just by his large presence, and he would want control.

“Have you any idea at all about who has the children? Are there no whispers on the streets?”

“The other night, Toby heard a rumor that they were to take another child from the area we were in. So Wilson and I arrived to attempt to keep the children safe, and this time we succeeded. But we cannot watch them all.”

“That was extremely foolhardy of you, Lilly. You could have been hurt or abducted yourself.”

She waved his words away. “My concern is for the children, not myself. Toby is spreading the word that I will offer a reward for any news about whoever is behind this.”

“Is that wise? Surely you will have any number of people calling here hoping to claim the reward?”

“I am not a fool, Lord Sinclair. All information will come through Toby.”

“I never suggested you were a fool, Lilly.”

His usual drawl had become more clipped as she challenged him. Good. Perhaps if he knew she was no meek and mild lady, he would stay away from her.

“My name is Miss Braithwaite,” Lilly said. “Your sister can call me Lilliana, but that is because I like her!”

“I do believe that hurt.” He rubbed his chest and tried to look wounded. Lilly was not fooled.

“Do you know all the missing boys, Lilly? It must be distressing for you,” Essex Sinclair said, ignoring her brother.

“I know a few of them. But Teddy, the latest boy to go missing, was here last winter when he became sick.”

“And you believe the children selected are random? Not all boys, or girls. Short or tall, large or small?”

“Randomly,” Lilly said, looking reluctantly at Lord Sinclair as she addressed his question. “Are you thinking they are being taken for a specific reason?”

“What does your brother say on the matter? Perhaps if he were to intervene on

your—”

“My brother is a busy man, and knows nothing of this, and I would beg you to keep it that way. Lord Sinclair.”

Lilly withstood the intense and searching look he leveled at her. She wondered what was in his thoughts.

“I understand, and of course my sister and I will say nothing on this matter to anyone, including your family. However, someone must accompany you to the Watch House today, preferably a man, as you have already determined that you alone, with a servant, will not be taken seriously.”

“There is only your brother, aunt, and yourself, Lilliana?” Essex Sinclair sighed. “Imagine that, Dev, having only one sibling.”

“There are a lot of you?” Lilly asked before she could stop herself. These people intrigued her.

“Seven in total.”

“So many?” Lilly could not imagine sharing a house with seven people.

“I assure you there are benefits,” Lord Sinclair drawled. “If you look hard enough.”

Lilly looked to Essex. Surely he had just insulted her? But no, the woman was smiling at her brother.

“If your family is unable to accompany you, then I will.”

Lilly took a few seconds to realize what he had said, as her thoughts were still on what it would be like to have so many siblings. But when she did, everything inside her rebelled.

No, no... no!

“Thank you, but I can manage on my own, my lord.”

“I cannot let you travel to the Watch House on your own, Lilly.”

“What a wonderful idea, Dev.” Essex Sinclair smiled at him and then Lilly before she could once again refuse. “He is quite handy in most situations, and I'm sure he would excel in this one also.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“No, I have no wish for you to accompany me.”

“We shall take your carriage, Lilly, and Essie will take mine, as she is to return home to our younger siblings.”

“Oh, yes indeed.” Essex Sinclair jumped to her feet, and her brother followed. “I had quite forgotten I am to take the children to the park this afternoon. Please forgive me, Lilliana, for not accompanying you.”

“No, wait.” Lilly followed. “There is no need for anyone to accompany me. I am not your concern, Lord Sinclair, and am more than capable of going on my own.”

“I would never allow a woman to go into a Watch House on her own. As none of your family is here to protect you, I will accompany you.”

Stay in control, Lilly.

“I need no protection, Lord Sinclair, and please address me correctly. I have dealt with many things on my own with some success, and this will be the same.”

“And yet I will accompany you. I was there the other night, and can possibly be of some help.”

He was smiling at her now, yet those eyes were darker. Perhaps he was not as composed as he appeared.

“No, I have my footman and maid, so I really must insist that you escort your sister home, my lord.”

“I will accompany Lilly and her maid to the Watch House and then I shall summon a hackney and return home, Essex. Please tell the children I will visit with them then.”

“No—”

“Argument is futile once he has made up his mind, Lilliana, and besides, he may prove useful in some capacity, even if it is to stand behind you and intimidate whoever you speak to. I wish you every luck, and will hear the details when Dev returns home.”

She trailed behind the siblings to the door, wondering if it would be wrong to lock the door if she could get him to step outside.

“Our sister and her husband are due to return soon, and I am hoping you will come for dinner one evening, Lilly,” Essex said, pulling on her gloves.

“Oh well—”

“Excellent.”

She heard Lord Sinclair's deep laugh as she stood looking at the door his sister had just sailed through. They were incredibly forceful, these people.

“Argument is futile, I am afraid.”

Frustrated, she glared at him. “This is highly improper, and I have no wish for you to accompany me. Should we be seen it would raise any number of questions.”

“And running about London streets with children at dusk is the correct behavior for ladies, is it?”

“Are you threatening to expose me, my lord?”

He looked genuinely surprised by her words, followed by annoyance.

“I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion, but let me assure you that I do not tell tales. No matter how much I question your activities.”

“You have no right to question anything about me!” Lilly felt her temper rise. Lord, this man was insufferable... and exhausting to be around.

“Perhaps not, but I am now aware of your reckless gadding about London streets, and I would be lying if I did not say I was concerned.”

Truly baffled, she asked why.

“You are a lady of my acquaintance, and as such honor dictates I ensure you are safe.”

“But we don't even like each other.” His words made absolutely no sense.

He moved closer, taking one of her hands in his.

“We didn't like each other, but now we do.”

His gentle smile disturbed her more than it should, and Lilly had a sinking feeling that she was on the precipice of something, but had no idea what. The tingling feeling in her fingers had her snatching back her hand.

“No.” She shook her head. “I don't want to like you.”

“But you do.”

Dear God, she feared he was right, and that all the turmoil inside her was not because she loathed and detested him, but in fact because she liked him. Needing distance to draw a deep, calming breath, Lilly hurried to the kitchens to tell Bee they were leaving. Distance, she reminded herself. Distance would heal whatever madness was currently taking up residence inside her head.

Lilly looked out the carriage window as they journeyed to the Watch House. Lord Sinclair had attempted to converse with her, yet she had been equally determined to get their relationship back on the footing it had held for the last two years.

His words before they left Temple Street had disturbed her, and she knew he was right. She could like him, but she would not. Could not. Therefore, she would retreat.

“Those buns were the best I have tasted.”

She looked at him, but his eyes were on Bee. A maid, for pity’s sake. Did the man not know that noblemen did not converse with maids—not that she didn't converse with staff, but still, he was a lord.

“I could get the recipe for you, my lord. Mrs. Davey would not mind, I am sure.”

“Could you indeed? I should be most obliged.”

His eyes lit at the prospect, making him look less like an intimidating peer and more like an eager young boy.

“My younger siblings would enjoy them.”

“How many of you are there, my lord? If you don't mind me asking?”

“Not at all, Miss…?”

“Just Bee, my lord.”

Lilly watched her usually stoic maid smile. It took a great deal to get such reaction from her in the normal course of a day.

“Well, Bee, I'm the eldest. My sister Essex comes next, and then Cambridge and Eden. We have a jump then to the twins, Dorset and Somerset, aged nine years, and lastly Warwickshire.”

“And you are called Devonshire,” Lilly said, intrigued despite herself.

“Yes, we are each named after a location in England. My parents traveled a lot.” He finished with a shrug, looking at her.

“It must be very noisy.”

Lilly saw the small laugh lines bracketing his mouth as he smiled, and those emerald-green eyes sparkled like the brightest gems. He was dangerous. Very dangerous, and she must always remember that fact. Men were not to be trusted.

“That, Bee, is an understatement. The noise is sometimes deafening, especially when we play games. It's the squealing; it gets into your eardrums and is mighty hard to dislodge.”

“And you would have it no other way, my lord.”

“Too true, Bee. I am indeed blessed to have so much love in my life.”

It was petty of her to hate him for that statement, yet Lilly did.

“We have arrived,” she said minutes later, relieved that she could get out of the carriage and away from him. He took up too much room with his long legs and large feet. Not to mention the smell of the man. Her brother wore some overpowering cologne, as did plenty of other men she knew, but not him. For some reason it reminded Lilly of the countryside. The trees, grass, earth. Inhaling his scent made her feel... alive.

Dev stepped down before Lilly, holding out a hand. She was forced to take it, and he lowered her to the ground.

“Come, Bee.” She did not acknowledge him, instead addressing her maid.

“Yes, Miss Braithwaite.”

Together they stood looking across the road at the brick façade. It was not a building that made a person take a second look. The windows were clean but unadorned, the five front steps painted gray.

“I understand your reasons for being here, Lilly, yet would caution you that it is highly unlikely you will receive the answers you seek yet again.”

He would do what he could for her, yet she needed to know that it was very likely another fruitless endeavor they were embarking on.

“Perhaps if you have that attitude then it would be best if you stayed in the carriage. I shall leave Bee with you, so you may continue your cozy chat with her, Lord Sinclair.”

“She is a most excellent conversationalist, to be sure. However, I have said I will accompany you, so I shall leave further discussions about cinnamon buns for another day.”

“Don't laugh at me!”

“Then don't be ridiculous, and I shall not be forced to.”

He reached for her arm as she stepped away from him, but she was too quick and started across the street. Dev turned to look for any approaching traffic. He saw the carriage and the intent face of the driver. Raising his whip, the man urged his horses faster. The street was busy, so he had no cause to be traveling at such speed.

Looking to where Lilly was in the middle of the road, Dev started in her direction. The carriage would not touch her on its present course, yet it would pay for her to increase her pace.

Throwing the driver another look, he then felt it again, that sudden surge of desperation he had experienced twice in his life before. The carriage changed direction and veered toward Lilly.

“Run, Lilly!”

“Miss Braithwaite!” Bee's cry did not reach her either.

Head down, she continued walking. Dev started running, desperate to reach her and keep her safe. Seconds later she was in his arms. He took a huge leap that carried them to safety before the carriage flew past.

He cursed as his knees wobbled, but he managed to remain upright. Heart thudding so hard Dev felt breathless, he tightened his grip on her.

“Dear God, Lilly, tell me you are all right?”

“Y-yes, thank you, my lord. Pl-please put me down.” Her voice was unsteady.

Dev lowered her to the ground, but he couldn't let her go because he needed to touch her. Holding her upper arms, he steadied both of them.

She was safe now, he reminded himself.

“I-I didn't hear them, I'm sorry.”

“You are safe; that is all that matters.”

Dear God, the desperation inside him had been palpable. He'd experienced that sensation when he had saved the Duke of Raven at Quatre Bras, and then the other night when he had caught Lilly as she'd fallen. What did that mean? She wasn't a Raven. Could his reaction to her simply be because she had his colors?

“Yes—I'm sorry I d-did not hear the carriage coming, Lord Sinclair. It came upon me so quickly.”

She was shaking, so he ran his hands up her arms before taking one hand in his.

“Come, take my arm and we shall walk a while before we enter the building. I for one need the time.”

Her fingers gripped his sleeve, and Dev fought the urge to wrap his arm around her waist.

“I-I…. please allow me to thank you, my lord.”

“I was unsure if I would reach you.”

“It was very brave of you to take such a risk for someone you barely know.”

“You were about to be run down, Lilly. Of course I took the risk.”

“Some would not.”

Dev had a feeling there was more to that statement, but he left it for now.

“I did not hurt you?”

“No, I am quite well, thank you, just a little unsettled.”

“And forever in my debt.”

“Pardon?” She looked up at him, her lavender eyes wide. She was pale, and Dev did not fight the need to close the distance and brush his lips over hers.

“My lord!”

“Excellent, you now have color in your cheeks once more.”

“You c-cannot do such a thing out here where anyone could chance upon us!” Her eyes were shooting left and right behind the lenses of her glasses.

“All right, I shall wait till we are alone then.”

“No, you shall not!”

“Lilly—”

“Call me Miss Braithwaite!”

“No.”

“Why?” She looked up at him once more.

“Because you are now Lilly to me.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “I really do not understand what is happening. We dislike each other, and until a few nights ago, did not even speak.”

“Come, you can mull over that later. Neither of us is still breathing like a racehorse, so we shall take on the local Watch.”

“Don't call me Lilly.”

His siblings always had the last word too, Dev thought, opening the door and ushering her inside.

Chapter Nine

The interior was as unassuming as the exterior. A narrow hallway led to a half wall behind which a man scribbled into a small book. He looked up as they approached, and rose with a polite smile on his face. Dev let Lilly go first, and stood at her back as she spoke.

“Good day to you, sir. My name is Miss Braithwaite, and I came here a week ago for my fifth visit and spoke with Sergeant Blacklock, yet again, about the matter of missing boys. I wish to follow up and see what is being done about this problem, as one more child was taken just last night.”

It wasn't a position he was used to, yet Dev did not intervene as she addressed the man. His siblings usually let him deal with things; it had just always been that way, yet not this woman. He had a feeling she had dealt with a great many things in her life, and wondered again at the relationship she had with her brother.

His thoughts returned to the driver of that carriage. He had seen his features clearly, and was sure he had directed his horses deliberately at Lilly. But why?

“Well, I can honestly say I know nothing about the matter, Miss Braithwaite. Where have these boys disappeared from? Are they in your service perhaps?”

“They are children who earn their living on the streets of London, sir. Young, helpless children who have fallen prey to some sort of—of foul play.”

Dev watched the man lower his eyes before once again lifting them. He was sure there had been an eye roll in there somewhere.

“As I'm sure the previous officer told you, Miss Braithwaite, the young street urchins are transient. They've probably just moved on to fleece someone else.”

“Fleece?”

There was little doubting to anyone present that Lilly was not pleased with the term. Ice had formed on the word as she said it. Dev noted her elevated chin and rigid shoulders. Small and perfectly formed, she almost quivered with indignation.

He wondered again how he'd been so foolish as to not see the woman beneath the exterior she portrayed to society. Possibly because most evenings she was hiding in the corners of the room and he never cared to look for her.

“Ahhh, well, as I see it, Miss Braithwaite, there is little we can do to find these boys, as in all honesty them disappearing is nothing new.”

“Six boys have simply vanished and this is nothing new to you?”

If her spine became any more rigid it would snap. Fearing she was about to launch a stronger attack on the helpless man, Dev stepped forward.

“My name is Lord Sinclair. My uncle, the Earl of Wynburg, is a man most interested in the workings of the Watch, as is my brother-in-law, the Duke of Raven. They are both eager to hear the outcome of today's enquiry, as the children who are forced to make an existence on our streets are a particular concern to both.”

Dev felt Lilly's eyes on him. She didn't glare precisely, but he thought it inferred. The man looked from her to him, and then nodded. His demeanor had changed at the names Dev had dropped into the conversation. He sat up straight, and the pitying look on his face had vanished.

“If you will wait through here, my lord,” he said, opening a door behind him. “I will speak with one of my colleagues over the matter.”

“Excellent. Take a seat, Bee. We shall return shortly.” Dev waved the maid to a seat and then placed a hand to Lilly's back and urged her forward. Her muscles tensed, as if to stop him, but he used enough force to propel her forward or end up on her face.

“I should have my maid with me.”

“She is just outside the door, which is open.”

The room was gray and stark, one table and two chairs. A small window high in the wall afforded dull light and Dev thought that perhaps enough time spent in here under interrogation and he would tell them his secrets too.

“Why do you hide behind that facade in the evenings, when it is clearly not who you are?”

“Pardon?”

The hands that were fussing with her skirts stopped as she looked at him.

Dev positioned his chair close to hers before lowering himself to sit. She attempted to shuffle sideways, but he wasn't allowing that. Leaning close, he braced a hand on the back.

“I cannot work out why you are trying so hard to stop society seeing how beautiful you truly are. And that inside that lovely head is an intelligence to rival many.”

She trilled out a little laugh.

“La, Lord Sinclair, I do declare it is wondrous to hear you speak of my intelligence.”

“It's too late to take a step backward, Lilly. I have seen through you.” Dev cupped her chin, then brushed a finger gently over her lip.

“Stop touching me,” she hissed, trying to remove his hand.

“Tell me the truth.”

She pushed his hand aside.

“You have no right to speak to me so intimately. No right to demand answers from me. We are strangers.”

She was scared, and he knew how she felt, as he was too. This, what lay between them, had sprung to life too quickly, and they were both reeling.

“I have no wish to hurt you, Lilly.”

“If that is indeed true, then being here alone with you will harm my reputation irreparably. Plus, were anyone to hear you speaking to me so intimately, word would spread with haste, and I have no wish for my reputation to be compromised.”

“All true, and yet your activities already do that regularly. Walking about talking to your urchins with only a servant at your side on seedy London streets after dark. Having that house in Temple Street, and what goes on there. So I think my being in this room alone with you is of little concern when the rest is taken into consideration, don't you?”

“I must insist you keep that information to yourself. Were it to get about that I have Temple Street, and have done the things you say, many will not be pleased.”

“I will keep your secrets.”

Their eyes held, and he was suddenly aware of every breath she drew.

“God, you are a beautiful woman.” Dev closed the distance between them.

“Please don't kiss me again.” Her words were a frantic whisper.

“Because you want it as much as I and that scares you.”

She placed a hand on his chest and pushed.

“I am scared of nothing, and most especially not an arrogant nobleman with far too high an opinion of himself.”

“Liar.” Dev kissed her cheek, then sat upright as he heard the door squeak.

“That”—she waved her hand about—”is improper behavior, and I wish you to stop it at once.”

Before Dev could reply, in walked a man.

“Lord Sinclair, I am Sergeant Gavell.”

“Sergeant.” He rose to shake the man's hand.

“Miss Braithwaite.”

“Sergeant.” Lilly nodded.

The man made a lot of fuss about placing his chair on the other side of the desk. Short and round with a bald head, the inspector had a bushy mustache that took up a great deal of his face.

“I understand that you are concerned over the disappearance of six boys who make their living on the streets of London?”

He didn't look at Lilly as he spoke, eyes firmly fixed on Dev, and this, he knew, would not please her.

“As this is my sixth visit here, I wonder you do not know more about this matter. I can also hear the disbelief in your voice, Sergeant Gavell. Do you believe I am making this story up?”

Dev didn't sigh, but he thought about it. The woman had no idea how to deal with a man like the sergeant, who had absolutely no respect for women, even ones of noble birth.

“Sergeant Gavell,” Dev began after shooting her a look that he hoped she interpreted to mean be quiet. “As you are aware, my uncle, brother-in-law, and I are actively involved in helping those less fortunate than ourselves, and we believe these children fall into that category.”

“I hardly think that—”

“And as such when it was brought to my attention that the boys were suddenly disappearing, I decided to accompany Miss Braithwaite on this visit to this Watch House, to lend my weight behind her enquiries. Not of course that I needed to add any weight; after all, a woman's word is equally as strong as a man’s, don't you think, Sergeant?”

Sergeant Gavell didn't see his argument at all. His mustache was now quivering with indignation.

“My men have very important work to undertake, my lord, and running around looking for those little... little feral creatures is, I am afraid, not a high priority for us.”

Dev felt Lilly tense, no doubt getting ready to fire a volley of insults at the sergeant’s head. He placed his hand over hers where it gripped the edges of the seat. Giving it a warning squeeze, he hoped she understood his need for her to keep quiet.

“Of course, if you are unable to spare the manpower for such an important task, I could hire several Runners. I'm sure they will do a thorough job. Understandably, my brother-in-law, the Duke of Raven, and uncle, the Earl of Wynburg, will be very disappointed not to have the Watch behind this investigation, however....”

“That will not be necessary, my lord! I am sure we can spare a few men to investigate the matter.”

Sergeant Gavell's color had deepened and Dev could tell he was not happy that he had used his connections to apply the pressure.

Minutes later Dev escorted Lilly outside the building. She reluctantly took his arm as they walked back to where the carriage waited.

“I'm sure you could have used the Earl of Wynburg and the Duke of Raven's names at least twice more in that conversation, had you tried harder.”

“I do believe that was sarcasm, Lilly.”

“How astute of you.”

“A simple thank-you will suffice.”

“Thank you,” she muttered. “Loath as I am to admit it, I see now that I would not have achieved the same result had I come alone.”

“I accept your apology.”

“I did not apologize!”

“Foolish me, I had believed that was exactly what you just did.”

She huffed out a loud breath.

“I am going to rethink my earlier thoughts about you and your family, my lord.”

Reaching the carriage, Dev opened the door and assisted her inside. “How so?”

“I had rather envied the close relationship you and your siblings appear to share,” she said, settling herself on the seat and then making those small, elegant, ladylike gestures all woman did when you seated them in a carriage. “However, having been the recipient of your taunts and dominating behavior, I realize now that I had a lucky escape.”

“I do not taunt, I tease, and surely you must allow me some defense against the barrage of insults and abuse I receive daily from my family.”

He was subjected to a very thorough look and Dev felt suddenly exposed, as if she were really seeing him, the man beneath the façade, the man who had very real fears and insecurities. The man who had struggled with the weight of supporting his family for so long. It was disconcerting to be inspected by those eyes, unwavering in their intensity.

“You would lay down your life for your family, wouldn't you, my lord?”

“In a heartbeat,” he answered her soft words.

“Then they are indeed lucky to have you as their protector.”

He heard the longing in her voice and wondered again if she had anyone at her back, and the uncomfortable thought followed that he wanted to be that person.

“I am sure your brother feels the same about you, Lilly.”

“No, he does not.”

She looked away from him then, and as her maid was seated across from him, he did not do as he wished and pick her up and hold her on his lap, to soothe away the sorrow that lay behind those words.

Dev studied the lines of her body and sent up a silent prayer that she had not shown herself to any other men. Had anyone truly looked and seen what lay beneath the surface of Miss Braithwaite, she would have been inundated with suitors. And the idea of another man anywhere near her made him want to roar.

He didn't think about that anymore, as what lay between them was new for them both. But he would, Dev reasoned. He would think about it long and hard, and the end result would surely be that she was his.

Chapter Ten

Dev watched Lilly's carriage drive from his street, and then made his way to his aunt and uncle's house.

“The Duke and Duchess of Raven have called, Lord Sinclair.”

“Thank you, Pennyroll,” Dev said, heading for the stairs. “Are my aunt and uncle also returned?”

“No, my lord. Not for another week is my understanding.”

He climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to see his sister—and James. The man had grown on him, but he would admit that to no one.

He wasn't sure why he insisted on living next door with Cam when he spent so much of his time, and sat down to most of his meals, here. Perhaps it was the peace, or perhaps it was that he had no wish for his family to know what he did and when he did it.

“Eden missed you all so much that she begged me to return to London early.”

Hearing his brother-in-law’s deep voice made some of the tension inside him ease. His family were all here, and they, like nothing else, could calm him when his head was in turmoil.

“Do not believe him. Yes, I missed you all.” Eden laughed. “However, he also missed his sisters and badgered me to return to London.”

Pushing the door open, Dev was greeted with noise and laughter. The twins were standing on Cam's feet while he attempted to walk around the room. Warwick was sprawled on the floor reading a book Dev guessed Eden had brought him. His family, he thought; God how he loved them one and all.

“Dev!”

He caught Eden as she launched at him. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight.

“I missed you, brother!”

“And I you, sister.”

Moving back a few steps when he released her, she looked up at him. Unlike the other Sinclairs, who all had green eyes, Eden's were gray, and like Lilly's they saw too much.

“What is wrong, brother?”

“I am well, don't fuss.” He kissed her cheek.

“You don't look happy.”

“And yet I am, because you have returned. Unfortunately you brought your husband with you.”

“You love him as do I, admit it.” Eden tapped his arm.

“You could not pull a confession like that from me under any form of torture.”

“We had a wonderful time at Raven Castle, Dev.” Eden looked at her husband. “Truly wonderful.”

“If you don't stop throwing smoldering glances Raven's way, I shall be ill.”

She always had a way of looking at Dev and really seeing what he felt.

“I wish you would tell me what has you out of sorts. Although perhaps I can guess, as Essie told me you've changed your opinion of Lilliana Braithwaite and that in fact you seem rather enamored with her.”

Dev glared at Essie, who shrugged back at him, her eyes twinkling and unrepentant.

“How can a man be enamored with a woman who looks like she pulled her clothes from her deceased great-grandmother's trunks and speaks like a brainless twit?”

“Yes, that's true. However, Essie informed me that she saw her dressed normally this morning, and she is rather lovely. And that she had none of those traits today. Which is odd, don't you think?”

She was stunning.

“Yes, it seems odd, and she certainly looked different. I'm sure Miss Braithwaite has her reasons as to why she behaves as she does, but it is not for us to ask why.”

But he wanted to know why.

“What are you not telling me?”

Dev felt cornered. His sister would pick and pick until she had all the answers she wanted, and he was not ready to talk about his feelings for Lilly yet. Hell, he had no idea what they were, other than the fact that they were fierce.

“Essie said you and she had an incident a few days ago, but did not elaborate. Perhaps now you can?”

That would have to stop, Dev thought. He wouldn't have Lilly gadding about in dangerous places with only a servant at her back. He just wasn't sure how to go about achieving that. He'd only been on speaking terms with her for a few days, so he really had no right to feel as he did. Was it so brief? Lord, it felt longer. The woman seemed to have turned his emotions upside down in such a short time.

“Perhaps James would like to be in on this discussion also?”

Dev looked at the Duke of Raven, who was talking with Cam.

“I doubt he's interested in Miss Braithwaite, Eden.”

“Normally you would be right, but Lilliana is his cousin, and furthermore, after what I found at Raven Castle, it seems she is also related to us. Although that tie dates back several hundred years.”

“What!” Dev roared over the buzzing in his ears.

“Pardon, I believe you meant to say,” Eden rebuked. “Did you not know?”

“Of course I didn't know, because no one has told me!” Dev felt like his head was about to explode. Christ, was it possible? Lilly, a Raven and a Sinclair?

“Hello, Sinclair. Care to tell me why you are roaring at my wife?”

The Duke of Raven now stood at Eden's side, one arm around her middle. Where there had once been a cool, aloof expression that hid a wealth of pain, there was now happiness. The man was transformed from the Duke they had first met. Eden had done that, Dev thought. She had brought him into the light.

“He wasn't roaring at me, darling.” Eden patted her husband's hand. “He was just surprised that Lilliana Braithwaite is your cousin, and that she is related to us. It seems he is quite taken with her.”

“I never mentioned I was taken with her.” Dev felt he needed to clarify that point quickly for his sister.

Even if I am.

Raven was one of the few men who rivaled him for size. Dev tried to scowl, but the Duke merely smiled back.

“You never mentioned she was your cousin before, Raven.”

The Duke shrugged. “I hadn't realized you needed a detailed account of all my relatives. Believe it or not, there are quite a few, and the list is growing. Furthermore, I thought I remembered you saying that Lilliana was a brainless twit with no fashion sense.”

Dear God, say it isn't so. Dev couldn't take it in.

“Is she from your mother’s or father's side of the family?” Dev grappled with the knowledge.

“Father's. What does that signify?”

She was of Raven blood. “But you have very little to do with her—”

“We were close as small children. Her father was my father's brother. Nice man, as was my aunt. But eventually, as with everything good in my life, my father decided to cut all ties, so now we are strangers.”

“We shall reforge that bond, my love.”

Dev watched the Duke smile down at Eden then kiss her briefly on the lips.

“I have no doubts, love.” James looked at Dev once more.

“But what is the business about her being a Sinclair also?” Dev asked his sister, still grappling with what he had learned.

“I found this.” Eden picked up a fat tome from the table beside where they stood. It was bound in black leather, and Dev could see it was old by the condition. “It is an accounting of some of the Raven history. I found it when we looked for the scroll, which as yet we have not found.”

“There are many places to hide things in Raven Castle,” James added.

“Miss Braithwaite?” Dev said in a terse tone. “Tell me of her connection to us.”

“Don't use that tone with me, brother.”

“Sorry,” Dev said. “Now speak.”

“In 1608, the third son of the then Baron Sinclair saved Lilly's great-great, I'm not sure how many greats, but quite a few, grandmother from a certain death by fire. She was married, but she and the Sinclair fell in love and they had a liaison. The result was an illegitimate child, but her husband was never told, so believed the babe was his. It was then raised a Raven.”

“Christ.” Dev ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure he could take much more of this.

“You've gone pale, Sinclair. Need I catch you when you faint?”

Dev cursed at the Duke.

“What appears to be the problem here? To the best of my knowledge you and Lilliana... oh, no, no, no.” The Duke of Raven suddenly looked fierce. “Please tell me you have not saved her from some life-threatening event, Sinclair? I have no wish for another member of my family to be beholden to you.”

Dev knew his siblings were listening, as the room had gone quiet. A rarity for the Sinclairs.

Something must have shown in Dev's face, as the Duke clapped a hand over his eyes.

“For Christ's sake. Will this bloody curse never end!”

“Pardon me, James, but were it not for this bloody curse, then some of your ancestors would be dead, along with you.”

“Thank you, Dorrie, for enlightening the Duke,” Dev said, placing a hand on his little sister's head as she leaned into him. “I am sure for one brief moment he forgot about our family's history. However, I would ask you to refrain from quoting him verbatim, especially when he curses. “

“As if that would ever be a possibility,” the Duke groaned, then grunted as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. “Please accept my apologies, Dorrie. I should not have spoken thus in your presence.”

Luckily, the children's tutor, Mr. Linues, arrived at that moment to take them away for their afternoon lessons. After being promised a game of hide-and-seek later, they left the room.

“You saved Miss Braithwaite, Dev? What happened?” Cam said after the door had closed.

“She narrowly missed being hit by a carriage.”

“Good God, is she all right?” The Duke looked worried.

“Yes, shaken but all right.”

“Does this mean we have all your relatives to watch over now?” Cam sounded disgusted. “I mean, if we are talking about cousins, then how far removed will this get? Second cousins, nephews?”

“I am sure it happened simply because Dev was with Lilly,” Eden soothed her brother.

“Would certainly keep you busy,” the Duke drawled. “Perhaps I should put you all on a full-time retainer, just in case your services are required.”

Cam snorted. “I never say no to money. However, I object to being pulled from bed to rescue a foolish Raven who should have a care where he or she walks.”

“Did the driver stop, Dev?” James asked him.

“No, he just kept galloping past. It was odd because I remember when she walked across the road, I looked left and right and saw that carriage. I thought it was going too fast, and the driver's face is clear in my head. He seemed determined, and then I turned away. When I looked back, he had changed course and was heading directly for Lilly.”

“Lilly?” James said. “Since when is she Lilly to you?”

“Be quiet, darling, Dev is now about to tell us of another incident, and if my hunch is correct, I am sure this is where everything started.” Eden patted her husband's chest, and the scowl left his face.

“I need to sit,” Dev said. He felt as if he'd been standing out in a storm being battered for hours.

“Would you like, tea, Dev?” Essie asked him.

“A brandy is what he needs, I think.” Cam smiled at his sister. “Come, you hold the glasses while I pour.”

Soon they all sat, some with brandy, others with tea. Dev swallowed a mouthful and enjoyed the burn as it slid down his throat. He then told James and Eden about Lilly chasing the man who had attempted to abduct the child.

“Good Lord, for the years I had believed that Lilliana had become something of a simpleton, with disastrous fashion sense. It seems I was wrong,” James said.

“I'm sure she will not be pleased that we all know what is going on with her, and yet someone needs to watch over her,” Essie said.

Amen to that.

“Do you believe what happened today was deliberate, Dev?” James asked him.

“The more I think on it the more I believe so.”

“I wonder if it could be connected to those missing children in some way?”

“There are plenty of women helping children around London,” Dev said, “but yes, I wondered at the connection also.”

“Perhaps Lilly has been getting in the way of whoever is trying to abduct those children. She has the boy Toby out there poking his nose about, and she has been to the Watch House several times,” Essie said. “She also foiled that abduction attempt.”

“Someone would have had to know you were going to the Watch House to attempt to run Lilly down,” James said. “And if that is the case, then someone would need to be watching her.”

“You have a suspicious nature, husband,” Eden said.

“After what we have just endured, my love, are you surprised?”

Dev wasn't. The Duke had received several attempts on his life before they had found the culprit, a half-brother he did not know he had.

Around him conversations broke out while he sat silently contemplating what they had discussed. Lilly was a long-distant relation, and a Raven. It was enough to turn a man to drink.

“Pensive is not a word one usually associates with Sinclairs, although perhaps you can carry it off better than the rest of them.”

Dev watched James as he cradled his cup in one hand and bit into a large square of cake that he held in the other. He now stood beside Dev's chair, leaning on the windowsill. The Duke was a man who had lived with the burden of a cruel father, a man who knew his share of both physical and mental pain; he was also someone Dev would trust with his life and that of his family. He needed to talk about Lilly with someone who knew her, even if it had only been for a few years.

“I was wrong about your cousin, Raven.”

The Duke nodded. “I think she had most of us fooled, from what you have all told me.”

“Tell me what you know about her brother, James. I do not like the man, but surely he has not always been a wastrel?”

“No, he was a friend when they visited. But that all changed when his father died. He started drinking and gambling. He kept company with the wrong people, and soon he had become the man you see today.”

“I wonder at his relationship with his sister,” Dev said. “Surely he can know nothing of what she does?”

“I doubt he'd care anymore. From what I gather, his life is spent in gambling hells and with prostitutes.”

Dev had grown up with love. Yes, his father was not a nice man, but he had found that out later in his life. It always made him feel sad when James spoke of his childhood, but to hear that Lilly's brother did not love her as a big brother should made him angry.

“It might pay for you to become reacquainted with your cousin, Raven. It appears she could do with a relative she trusts.”

Dev held the Duke's gaze as the man studied him.

“You really are worried for her, aren't you, Sinclair, which suggests to me you also care?”

“Would it do me any good to deny it?”

“Not a bit,” the Duke said with a snort of laughter that fell from his lips as quickly as it had come. “I have not thought about Lilliana much over the years, as my own problems were enough to occupy me and because my father seemed hell-bent on keeping us apart, but if she is suffering in any way I would like to know.”

“I wonder why anyone would go to such lengths to disguise who they truly are.”

“I know that her grandmother left her money, but don't know the details of the entitlement. Perhaps in some way that is the reason? Something to do with reaching a certain age unmarried before receiving it?”

“You need to find out, Raven.”

“I shall try, Sinclair.” He smiled at Dev. “I can imagine how pleased you are she is related to me.”

“An understatement, I assure you,” Dev said. “Had it been anyone but Lilly, I would have walked the other way at a rapid pace.”

“But you can't,” the Duke said softly with his eyes on Eden. “Because something about her has settled inside you and nothing will dislodge it.”

“I can dislodge it anytime I wish,” Dev said quickly. Surely he wasn't that enamored with the woman yet? Surely what he felt for her was a mild affection based on the simple fact that he wanted to ravish her on the nearest available surface.... Dear God, he was in trouble.

“There is nowhere to run, Sinclair,” the Duke said to his back as Dev rose suddenly from the chair and headed for the door as if Satan himself dogged his footsteps.

Chapter Eleven

“Lord Danderfield is here this evening and he will ask you to dance, Lilliana. Of course, you will accept.”

I would rather eat lumpy porridge, Lilly thought, looking anywhere but at her brother.

The ballroom was filled with primped and pampered guests. Most she knew by sight if not acquaintance. She had been a part of this world for so long now that the scene before her no longer roused more than a sigh from Lilly. The colors and jewels, the decorations that each hostess took months ruminating over, just so they outdid last year and anyone else hosting an event this season, no longer thrilled her.

It was amazing really, that surrounded by so many people she could feel so alone.

She had dressed in dull gray with a black lace trim, which made her appear as if she were in mourning. Bee had reluctantly put a small stuffed bird in her hair, after pulling it back severely, which by the end of the evening would give her a headache.

“He will be a suitable husband for you, Lilliana. I want to hear no more on the matter.”

Lilly reluctantly returned her eyes to her brother. He looked pale, and she realized he had lost weight. Was he sick? It would serve him right if he was. It was probably all that alcohol he consumed pickling his liver.

“I will not marry him, Nicholas, no matter what you and he say.” Lilly kept her voice low, wishing no one to overhear them. “And I will not be sacrificed because you could not manage father's money and are now in debt.”

“I am not in debt!”

“I am no fool, brother. You have never cared if I married before, or for that matter anything about me. Why now?”

He evaded her eyes.

“You look hideous tonight. How can you hold your head high? For pity’s sake, Lilliana, you have a bird in your hair!”

“It is a robin, not just a bird.”

“Why, Lilliana?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you dress like that and talk as you do when we enter a ballroom or function?”

Lilly wondered why now people were suddenly aware of the facade she had worn for so long. What had changed in her, to make them notice?

“I have dressed and talked this way for years; you were just too self-absorbed to notice. I am shallow and silly, and I like my taste in clothing. If you do not, that is your problem, Nicholas.”

“That old crone should never had given you her money. I am sure that is why you have never wed. But I will see you do, and before your next birthday, sister.”

“Ah, so you admit you want my money, brother, as you have run through yours, or should I say the family's. And never again speak of my grandmother in that way, or you shall regret it!”

“Bitch!”

“Greedy reprobate!”

Nicholas's snarl turned to a smile as he looked over Lilly's shoulder.

“Lord Danderfield, how opportune. My sister and I were just discussing your flattering proposal, and of course she is so enchanted by the prospect of becoming your wife.”

Scrunching her eyes closed, Lilly took a deep breath and then turning, she opened them once more.

“Of course she is. For pity’s sake, I would be doing the girl a favor, Braithwaite. Why, she is positively on the shelf, and look at her. A shameful creature. But you may be sure I shall take her in hand.”

She turned back to her brother. “And you hate me this much you would make me wed this man?”

“Greet me, girl!”

Lilly turned back to Danderfield before her brother replied. She had never really seen Lord Danderfield up close. Old and craggy was her first thought. His skin hung in folds, his hands were long and bony, and gray hair clung stubbornly to the sides of his head while the top was bald. He smelled of tobacco, spirits, and body odor, all of which she could smell clearly from her position several feet away.

“My brother has misled you, Lord Danderfield. I have no wish to marry, and especially not you. I am unsure why you have decided I would be a suitable wife now, but let me assure you that I would not.” If she had thought her harsh words would horrify the man, she had been mistaken. Licking his lips, he looked her over, taking especially long over her breasts, which were hidden behind the thick material of her hideous dress. His lips pulled into a thin line that Lilly thought constituted a smile.

“Spirit, excellent, Braithwaite. My last two wives were meek and gave me no fun at all. This one, however, I hold high hopes for.”

“I will not marry you, my lord,” Lilly said calmly, even though her heart was pounding. “No matter what promises my brother has given to the contrary.”

“I'll have you, girl, because no one else will, and your brother has consented.”

With these ominous words, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Lilly complied, as she had no wish to create a scene. But she would when she got her brother alone again.

“I just watched Lilly having a conversation with her brother and Lord Danderfield,” Dev said to James when he appeared at his side.

They were at the Deighton soirée, which was to Cam's mind just a fancy name for a ball.

“It may not have appeared heated, yet there was no doubting the tension in her as the two men talked. Danderfield's now dancing with her.”

Dev watched James take a step forward and look over the crowds to where Lilly danced with the old leech. Her face was tight as she tried to mask her feelings, but Dev had noticed everything about her from the minute she entered the room with her brother.

“God, that is a hideous dress, Sinclair.”

“It is an act, James. I am certain of that, just not sure why as yet.”

“She has a bird in her hair.”

“A robin, one would infer from the color of the breast.”

James snorted. “I need to speak to Nicholas and find out what the hell is going on.”

“He may not speak with you.”

“He will, or I will beat what I need out of him.”

“Eden just shook her head at that remark,” Dev said looking to where his sister danced several feet away. “Mind your business, shrew,” he added knowing she could hear his every word clearly.

“Do you want me to run him through, love?” James said, to which his wife nodded.

Eden's heightened sense was hearing, and of all their senses, hers was the most annoying, as she could hear most things, even with her earplugs in, from some distance away.

“So, it seems my suspicions are confirmed, and you are showing interest in my cousin, Sinclair,” the Duke said, leaning beside him on the wall. “I must admit that came as a surprise, as Eden told me you have, until now, never outwardly done so.”

Dev sighed. “Should have known this particular subject would remain in the forefront of my family’s minds.”

“I do wonder why you thought it wouldn’t, and why your siblings would not be interested in any woman who interests you,” the Duke said.

“A faint hope, Raven, nothing more.”

James snorted, his disbelief obvious. “Discretion, in your family?”

“True. As I said, it had been a faint hope only.”

The men were silent again, James switching his gaze from Lilly to Eden to check on her and back to Lilly again.

“I think tonight is as good a night as any to reacquaint myself with my cousin, Sinclair.”

“Perhaps Eden could hear what Danderfield is saying, if she danced close enough,” Dev said.

“I'm sure she will. Where you are concerned, my wife will do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Dev grunted. His family always had his back, as he did theirs.

“May I take this brief moment of solitude from your siblings to offer my... congratulations, for want of a better word.”

“For what?” Dev dragged his eyes from Lilly to look at the man beside him.

The Duke was silent for several seconds and then he spoke. “For being the father Eden never had and for raising the wonderful family you have. I'm sure there are times when it was not easy.”

How did one answer that, Dev wondered? Raven was not a man given to excess emotions; in fact, when first they had met he had been colder than a dead man. Therefore, when he did express himself, it tended to shock the recipient.

“No words are necessary, Sinclair, but please know that now you are not alone in your commitments, and I will make it my life's work to make Eden happy, and be there for your clan should I be required.”

“Thank you,” Dev said, as uncomfortable with excessive emotion as the next man.

“I suppose if she marries you at least I can keep an eye on her.”

Dev's instincts screamed denial, yet it never showed on his face.

“Pardon?”

“Lilliana. If she marries you, at least I know she will be well cared for.”

“A lovely sentiment, I am sure, but may I suggest you put your energies into what is troubling your cousin instead of my future aspirations, Raven.”

James smiled. “I'm sure I have enough energy for both, Sinclair,” he added, holding out his hand.

Dev shook it and then hissed something foul at the Duke as he walked away laughing.

“Hello, cousin.”

“Duke.” Lilly sank into a curtsey and attempted to breathe as James joined her.

“James will do, I think.”

The emotions churning through her body were making her breathless. She could hear the small pants coming from her mouth but could do little to stop them. Dancing with Lord Danderfield had been horrid. He had touched her inappropriately several times and leered at her breasts. Now her cousin, whom she had once thought so much of, was talking with her.

“Lillana, are you well?”

“I-I am, thank you.”

“Come, take my arm and we shall walk a while.”

She did and slowly felt her breathing return to normal as they made their way through the open doors and out onto the terrace. Neither spoke as they continued to walk in slow measured steps and Lilly was grateful for it, grateful for the time to find herself again, even if it was on the arm of the man she had not spoken more than a handful of words with for many years.

“I have thought of you much over the years, cousin, and wondered how you fared, yet it was not till I married Eden that I realized just what I lost when we were separated as children. I would ask that you try to forgive me for the distance I placed between us, and hope that like me, you wish to change that.”

“It is all right, Duke. Your father—”

“Was a bastard, and most likely he terrified you when your family visited, and for that I'm sorry. But the thing is, Lilliana, those brief moments when you, Nicholas, and I ran wild over Raven Castle were the memories I cherished most.”

Lilly remembered them too. She had loved her quiet, stoic cousin almost as much as her brother back then. Even at a young age she had seen he was hurting, but did not know how to reach him, and then it was too late, as they had left Raven Castle for the last time.

“Do you know why you left and never returned that day?”

She shook her head.

“Your father tried to intervene on my behalf. Asked if I could spend more time with your family. My father refused, and that was the end of everything.”

“I'm sorry, I did not know why.”

“I am happy now, Lilliana. I have Eden, who loves me and I her, and two sisters.”

He smiled, and it was possibly the first genuine one she had received from him. She could see his happiness; it made him look younger and more approachable.

“Sisters, Duke?”

“James,” he reminded her. “The story is a long one. Will you come and take tea with us soon so you can make the acquaintance of my sisters, and hear our tale?”

“I would like that,” she said, feeling a small glow of warmth in the region of her heart. Nicholas may not love her, but perhaps this man could.

“Come, we should return, but before we do, can I ask something of you, cousin?”

“Of course.”

“Devon has told me how you were out on the street that night, and about your house.”

Of course he had. Bloody Sinclairs; it seemed they kept nothing close. Lilly did not understand that. She had always held her secrets inside, never sharing them.

“I see that angers you, but you must understand he told me only because he is concerned.”

“He has no reason to be so, as I am no concern of his,” Lilly said.

“Perhaps, but I think in this he is correct. You must take no more risks. No more nighttime ventures onto London Streets.”

Lilly nodded but remained silent.

“Promise that if you need help, then you will turn to me, if you cannot turn to Devon.”

“Very well,” Lilly said, accepting the kiss he brushed over her cheek. And then he was gone and she stood there, bemused. So much change and in such a short time; how was a person to cope?

Chapter Twelve

Lilly needed time to think. Somewhere she could sit uninterrupted, and work through everything that was happening to her. She walked along the wall until she found two rows of seats upon which sat numerous young women awaiting a man to ask them to dance, and several older ones, watching their charges with narrowed eyes as they danced or stood in circles with men and women. She had spent a great deal of time on extremely uncomfortable seats on the edges of ballrooms just like these.

“Excuse me.” Lilly made her way along the row until she got to a seat in the middle. She would be safe here, tucked away. Safe from the loathsome Lord Danderfield, her brother, and Lord Sinclair.

“Dastardly hot, wouldn't you say?”

Damn.

“Indeed, Miss Juniper.”

Lilly had seriously miscalculated. Beside her was one of society’s leading gossips. Miss Juniper was in her sixties, a woman who spent her evenings digging up tidbits she could then pass on to her friends the next day. Harmless really, but still bloody annoying, as the woman had no idea on “sitting quietly.”

“The Duke and Duchess of Raven are the picture of health this evening, wouldn't you say, Miss Braithwaite?”

Short enough to fit under Lilly's armpit, Miss Juniper had sharp features and reminded her of a little bird, not dissimilar to the one she had in her hair. Her brown eyes were always on the move, as were her hands.

“Indeed they are, Miss Juniper.”

Lilly wondered if she could slip out again. The other option was hoping that someone took the seat between them, thereby blocking the woman from her sight and becoming Miss Juniper’s next victim.

“That is a very unusual arrangement in your hair, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Indeed, do you like it, Miss Juniper? It took my maid some time to arrange. The beak, you know, it needed to be placed so it did not dig into my head.”

The deep chuckle coming from the end of the row made Lilly's heart jump. She tried glaring at Lord Sinclair to make him leave, but he simply smiled and started down the row, sending the women he passed into a flutter.

“Lord Sinclair!”

“Miss Juniper.” He nodded to her, as if a man taking a seat among the women was an everyday occurrence.

“But Lord Sinclair, there are only women seated here!”

He settled on the seat between them. Due to his size and the seats being placed close together, his thigh pressed into Lilly's.

“Excellent, I am rather happy to be the only man surrounded by so much beauty.”

Lilly watched the women who heard him turn and smile, tittering. They all blushed and nodded. Lilly rolled her eyes. She then moved as far from him as she could, which was not far as a woman sat on the other side.

“Hello, Lilly, you look beautiful tonight.”

He turned his body, thereby shutting Miss Juniper out of the conversation completely.

“No I don’t and what are you doing?”

“Sitting with you.”

“But you should not do so.”

“Why?”

His face looked calm, as if they were discussing pleasantries, and yet his eyes... there was nothing calm about the vibrant green depths.

“Because this is where women sit,” Lilly hissed. She was attempting to slouch in her seat so no one realized he was sitting with her.

“Is that a rule?”

Horrified, she watched as he turned to Miss Juniper to address the question to her.

“Because if it is, I do not remember seeing it written anywhere.”

Miss Juniper tittered. “It is understood, Lord Sinclair.”

“Ah, well there you have me,” he said, smiling once more. “I rarely understand anything.”

He turned back to her.

“That is a rather fetching robin in your hair. Quite the picture, with its red breast, and extremely lifelike.”

“Go away.”

“Do you realize that when you talk with me your voice changes?”

“It does not,” Lilly snapped, trying to change her tone back to the high-pitched trill she was known for.

“No, it does, and I much prefer it.”

“Go away,” Lilly said, desperate now to make him leave. Others would see him soon. He was not slouching like her, but sitting tall and straight.

“Did you and James have a nice chat?”

She couldn't look away; it was as if his eyes held her in place.

Run! the voice inside her head yelled. Run and don't look back.

“Yes, now go away.”

“I had believed you and Miss Braithwaite had formed a dislike for each other, Lord Sinclair. What is it you speak of so secretly?”

He held her eyes for a second longer before turning to face Miss Juniper.

“No indeed, we are friends, Miss Juniper. My sisters and Miss Braithwaite spend a great deal of time together, and as such I also.”

Lilly searched for an escape route and decided on simply pushing her chair back. There was a small amount of room between it and the wall; she could squeeze out without making the ladies to her right move once more. But before she did, Lilly had to ensure Miss Juniper kept Devonshire Sinclair busy for some time.

“Oh, Miss Juniper. Please tell Lord Sinclair, in detail, about the uses for white horehound syrup. His younger sister, Miss Dorset, suffers horridly from a hoarseness in the throat and a raspy cough. I believe they have tried everything for the poor dear.”

He swung to look at her as she spoke, and the look in his eyes threatened retribution, as everyone knew that once started on her cures Miss Juniper would not be stopped until she was good and ready, which hopefully would not be for some time.

“La, Lord Sinclair, I declare it is quite fortuitous that you have sat beside me this night, as I can indeed help you with your poor sister.”

The fact that she had questioned his taking the seat beside her was forgotten as she launched into a detailed discussion about the merits of white horehound syrup.

Lilly seized the moment and stood.

“Good Lord, I quite forgot I promised the Earl of Ridgeway the next dance. I shall not feel too bad at leaving you however, Lord Sinclair, as I will be doing so with the knowledge that you are keeping excellent company. Please don't miss out even the slightest detail, Miss Juniper, as Lord Sinclair is most eager to find help for his little sister.”

His hand gripped her fingers briefly where they lay between them.

“I shall find you later, Miss Braithwaite, and we will continue our discussion over that matter.”

Lilly shivered at these words, but did not look at him. Instead she fled.

“White horehound syrup, Lord Sinclair, is the only way to cure your dear sister.”

Witch, Dev thought, watching Lilly disappear into the crowds of people before them. She'd outmaneuvered him and he should be furious with her, but what he felt was admiration. Every minute he spent in her company made him want to spend several more. He didn't see her ugly clothes or ridiculous hair anymore, he saw her, Lilly. The woman who had his colors.

“Of course, steam also helps, Lord Sinclair.”

“Indeed.”

Dev muttered the right words at the right time and thought about Lilly. He wanted her to talk to him freely, needed her to tell him what the hell was going on in her life. Why the charade? What was between her and her brother? Was she happy?

“I will have a rub sent round for her chest, Lord Sinclair.”

“I'd be much obliged.”

He needed to find her, Dev realized. Because she was just as likely to leave before he had a chance to talk to her.

“Excuse me, Miss Juniper, I have promised my sister I would dance with her.”

He walked away before she could launch into further cures. Circling the room, Dev looked for Lilly. Finding her, he tacked right and came up behind her. She had not seen him, and was taking a mouthful out of the glass she was holding. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear.

“You owe me for what I have just endured.”

She shrieked, the glass tipped, and the contents ended up over her hands.

“You startled me!” She spun to face him.

“I hadn't thought your reaction would be quite so violent. Forgive me. Come, we shall find somewhere to clean you up.”

Before Lilly could stop him, he had her hand on his arm. Dev propelled her along at his side, and she could do nothing but comply. She would not create a scene; that was not her way, so her fingers appeared to rest on his arm, when in fact, they were digging in.

Dev found an open door that led outside and gently pushed her through before him.

“Why are we on the terrace? I can hardly dry my hands out here.”

“They will dry in the air, once you have taken off your gloves. It is warm out tonight.”

“I have no wish to be outside at this time, Lord Sinclair.”

“I wish to talk with you without anyone interrupting us.”

“You are always manhandling me. I am not one of your siblings, my lord. Let me go.”

Dev kept circling the terrace until they were alone, he then led her to the shadows, where he knew a stone bench sat.

“Sit.”

“I am not a dog,” she replied, indignant.

“Please sit.”

She muttered something and then the little bird in her hair bobbed as she sat abruptly. She made no move to remove her gloves.

“They are soaked in champagne, Lilly. Take them off and lay them upon the seat.”

She hesitated, first looking at him still standing, and then at her hands.

“They will be awfully sticky and uncomfortable if you do not.”

“My name is Miss Braithwaite.” Reluctantly she peeled first one and then the second damp glove from her fingers.

Dev studied her hands and could see no reason for her reluctance to let anyone touch or see them. She did not lay the gloves beside her, instead waving them about, Dev guessed, in the hopes they would dry faster that way.

“I told James about the incident with the carriage today, and what happened several nights ago.”

“The Duke told me this, and may I say it was presumptuous to do so, Lord Sinclair.” She was trying for haughty again, but now he saw through the facade.

“Have you given thought to the fact that the carriage that nearly hit you outside the Watch House did so deliberately?”

She was surprised by his words. The gloves momentarily stopped flapping as she looked up at him.

“Why would that be the case? I-I have done nothing to warrant such a thing.”

“You are trying to stop whoever is taking those children from taking more, Lilly. You have repeatedly visited the Watch House. Had the boy, Toby, ask questions, and then you foiled the abduction of that boy the night I was there.”

“No.” She shook her head fast, dislodging the robin and sending it forward. Dev removed it gently from her hair.

“Why are you touching my head?”

“Your robin has flown the nest.”

“La, Lord Sinclair, you are most amusing.”

It was exhausting watching her slip in and out of personas. Dev could only imagine how taxing it must be for her.

“You must have a care now, Lilly. If what I have said has foundation, then you must not leave the house without at least two footmen and a maid.”

“I don't believe you are right.”

But he had made her think, and that, to Dev's mind, was a good thing. She needed to show caution.

He sat beside her suddenly, reaching for one of her hands before she could pull away. Cradling the slender fingers in his palm, he felt it again, the wonderful surge of heat from the contact.

“Don't touch me!” She struggled to pull away from him, tug her hand from his grasp. “I-I do not like to be touched!”

“Why do you not like your hands touched?”

She was frantic now, trying to escape him, but Dev opened his fingers, slipping hers through his larger ones until she was trapped.

“You told my sister at Temple Street that you did not like to be touched, and quickly pulled on your gloves when we arrived, even though your hands were sticky from the bun. Why?”

“You don't understand what you are doing—”

“Tell me, then.”

He watched as she struggled to breathe as his hand held hers. Switching his vision, he checked her color, but it was strong and healthy.

“Lilly, stop fighting me. Take a deep breath for me. Are you in pain from my touch? If so I will release you.”

She inhaled and then exhaled slowly.

“Again, that's it.”

“You don't understand.”

The whispered words were desperate.

“What don't I understand?”

Dev took her other hand, turning her in the seat to face him. He uncurled her fingers from the fist they were clenched in and lifted them to his face.

“Don't.”

“Do,” Dev said gently.

“I can't normally touch people.”

“Yet, you can touch me.”

She stopped fighting him, and then the hand on his face moved. Her eyes followed her fingers as they traced the edge of his cheekbone, across his brows, and down to his jaw.

She was gentle and left a trail of heat. Christ, his body was a furnace, and she was barely touching him. He could only imagine what would be between them when she lay naked beneath his body. Wrestling that image aside, he concentrated on her.

“Why can't you touch people, Lilly? What do you feel?”

She shuddered, eyes still on her hand as it ran down his nose.

“No.” She shook her head. “It matters not.”

“It matters to me.”

“Y-you have a bump.”

“Eden broke it when we were young.”

“Make me stop.”

“Why don't you touch people, Lilly?”

“Emotions and feelings, horrid feelings,” she whispered, letting her fingers trail down his neck. “But with you it feels so different,” she added in wonder. “So very different.”

“How long has it been since you touched a person?”

“Since my childhood?”

“Is it only your hands that cause this reaction inside you?”

She nodded. “Yes, although I still hate people touching my face.”

“Except me,” Dev rasped as she ran one finger around the outside of his ear.

“Yes.”

Dev knew she wasn't focused on her words or she would not be revealing so much about herself. He wondered if Lilly had a secret that even she did not understand.

Trapping her hand as it moved down his neck toward his necktie, he said, “Why were you dancing with Lord Danderfield when I could tell you did not want to?”

Her hands immediately stilled and her eyes cleared, losing the look of dazed wonder they had previously held.

“I must return, my lord. Please excuse me, I-I don't know what I was doing—”

“You were touching me, Lilly, and I loved every second your fingers were on me. Yet had you continued I would have been forced to lay you on the bench and ravish you, and when I do that it will not be on a cold slab of stone.”

“Y-you cannot speak to me in such a manner!”

He watched as she slipped her gloves back on. He then grabbed her hand back and held her in place as she attempted to rise. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, however he knew it wasn't fear.

“I will make you mine, Lilliana Braithwaite.”

“Not if I don't want it!” she snapped, and he smiled at her temper. It was far better to see the fire in her eyes than the desperation they’d held before.

“But you do want it, my sweet.” Closing the distance, he placed a gentle coaxing kiss on her lips. “But for now we shall content ourselves with a dance,” Dev said, standing upright while he still could. Placing her hand on his arm, he led them back inside.

Dev swung Lilly into his arms and they waltzed slowly down the ballroom with the other couples.

“I would ask a favor of you, Lilly.”

He was subjected to a look, her feathered brows lowering as she studied him, and he could see the wariness return as she wondered what he would ask of her.

“I don't want to promise you anything. This, what happens between us, is not right. I don't want or need it, or the complications it brings to my life.”

“Yet it is inevitable,” Dev said.

“No, we can go back to what we were—”

“No,”—he gave her hand a squeeze—”we can't. But we will leave that for now, and I would simply ask that if you feel the need to tumble headlong into danger, you come to me, and if not me, James, so one of us can escort you to wherever it is you need to go.”

“He has already asked that of me.”

“Excellent, so you will have no trouble giving me the same assurance you no doubt gave him?”

She huffed out a breath. “Don't you have enough people to care for, my lord?”

“Plenty, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Yet you feel it necessary to watch over me also?”

Dev merely smiled.

“You have been successful in caring for and keeping your family safe, my lord, and I commend you upon it, however—”

“Not always,” Dev muttered as visions of Eden at the mercy of their father, Essie with her broken heart, and Cam drinking himself close to death filled his head. He hadn't been able to save them until the damage had been done.

“Whatever trials you and your family have endured, Lord Sinclair, it is undoubtedly a testament to you that you are still together, both healthy and whole. However, you cannot save everyone and I will point out to you again, my welfare is not your concern.”

No, he couldn't save everyone, Dev thought remembering campaigns and men he had lost who would never return home to their loved ones.

“Why do you look sad?”

The words weren't offered in a sympathetic tone; she demanded an answer.

“I could not save everyone who fought with me.”

“Was it your job to do so then, my lord? Are you such a man that everyone under your command should have returned alive and uninjured? Surely even the great Lord Sinclair cannot work such miracles?”

He couldn't believe she was mocking him.

“I led them.”

“Then of course you failed in your duty.”

“I did not fail!” Dev felt his anger rise. “I was a very good leader.”

“Then why do you blame yourself for losing the men you did?”

He could find no response, and battled the urge to place his hand over her mouth before she said anything else that would increase his discomfort.

“Have you always had this ridiculous need to protect people? This controlling nature that suggests no one can expire or become injured if you are in their lives?”

“Be quiet.”

“Oh dear, do you not like feeling vulnerable, Lord Sinclair? Is it not easy to have your innermost secrets and fears exposed, then chewed over like a dog with a tasty bone?”

Her face was serious, the high cheekbones flushed. Her eyes were open and honest behind the glass of her round lenses, and the ache inside his chest that he felt continually when she was close intensified.

“I take your point, so there is no need to discuss the matter further.” Of course he’d known she would ignore him.

“Being the eldest of six siblings, my lord, I'm sure you have been called far worse than bossy and controlling. However, I wonder if the description, godlike, would also fit?”

“Yes, thank you, Lilly. I believe I said I understood the point you were trying to make…repeatedly.”

“Excellent, then we shall both stop annoying each other, and revert to the way things once were between us, as it seems when we are near, we pull emotions from each other that neither of us are comfortable with.”

The song finished, and she slipped into a curtsey and left Dev reeling on the dance floor. She had just slit open a vein in his heart and allowed him to bleed a little before resealing it and walking away.

“Damn,” Dev whispered. It had to be love.

Chapter Thirteen

“Smear the jam on your toast and not me, brat.”

“I want to go there.”

Dev looked to where the jam-coated finger pointed, read the small advertisement, and wondered if there was any way he could get out of it.

“Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors,” the youngest Sinclair sibling, Warwickshire, declared. Lounging half on his chair and half on Dev's lap, he eagerly scanned the advertisement in the morning paper.

“You'll squeal like a babe and have nightmares for weeks,” Cambridge said from across the table, where the twins were busy retying his necktie while he ate.

“Won't!”

Dev looked around him. They were all present, except Eden and their aunt and uncle. The room was full of laughter and teasing, and he would have it no other way.

“I want a Roman god starting with the letter P.” Dev shot Essie and Cam a look. They might be able to throw the young ones off the scent of visiting Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors if they played a few word games.

“Poseidon, and that was too easy.”

“Forgive me, Dorrie, I was just warming you up.”

“Try harder,” Somer said, her eyes alight with excitement. Unlike other children, his little siblings enjoyed learning, and the harder the challenge, the better. It was due to their heightened senses; for some reason, this increased their learning capacity.

All the Sinclairs spoke multiple languages, as their mother had loved learning them, and read ferociously.

“Who was honored in the temples known as Capitolia?”

That shut them up. Dorrie, Somer, and Warwick all leaned in and he heard whispering, until Warwick was elected speaker.

“Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.”

“In Italian, if you please.”

Dev laughed as Warwick spoke in his most pompous tone.

“What herb is most commonly used to aid digestion?” Essie asked.

“The Egyptians said coriander had digestive properties,” Somer said. “But you can use chickweed.” She then looked at Dev. “And we still want to go to Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, so no matter how much you try to dissuade us, it will not work.”

“I won't squeal either, Cambridge,” Somer said.

“Neither will I,” Dorrie added.

“Of course you wouldn't, my darlings,” Cam said, planting loud kisses on their cheeks.

“How about the park?” Dev said, wiping his brother's fingers with a cloth he had dipped into his water glass. Of course he would never have done that if his aunt had been in the room.

“No!”

“Museum?” Cam supplied. He was now wearing his necktie in a bow around his head.

“No!” all three of the little Sinclairs squealed.

He should have had breakfast at his own lodgings, and then this conversation would never have eventuated. The problem was, when he was alone his thoughts went to Lilly, and his body would grow tight and he wanted her with a fury that scared him witless. She was a fever in his blood, an obsession that Dev feared would only strengthen the more he saw her. He had woken numerous times during the past few nights with the feel of her lips on his and the touch of her hand on his face.

Then there was this business of her being affected when she touched other people. Not him; she had loved that. Dev shouldn't feel so good that he was the only one she could place her hands on, but he did, selfish bastard that he was. If his hunch was correct, she would soon be in for a shock when he explained what he believed the reasons behind her sensitive hands were, but that was for another day.

“Gunter’s?” he said quickly. That got them, Dev thought, as silence reigned around the table. They loved ices.

“No!” they cried in unison.

“I yield,” he muttered, raising his hands in the air. “But Cam and Essie will take you and I will meet you there. I have some business to see to for Uncle first.”

Everyone agreed, and Dev was immediately covered in kisses from his little sisters and a fierce hug from Warwick. Minutes later, smiling, he left the house.

The drive through London was slow, as horses, carriages, and carts jockeyed for position, but finally he arrived at the docks. Dev stepped down from his carriage and inhaled. He loved this place; he felt alive surrounded by the bustle, noise, and salt air. Having grown up near the sea, the smell was so familiar to him and made him long for Oak’s Knoll, his family's home.

Closing his eyes briefly, he reopened them when he was steadier. Looking at the scene before him was almost too much, an assault on the eyes, especially his eyes, as his vision allowed him to see more than most.

Ships rocked from side to side, their wooden hulls creaking and groaning. Masts waved, rigging jangled, and when they were quiet, the sound of men yelling filled the silence. Walking to where one of his uncle's ships bobbed gently on its moorings, he signaled his intention to board.

Dev had only really known the Earl of Wynburg, his uncle, since arriving in London. Previous attempts from their aunt and uncle to make contact with the Sinclair siblings had been rebuffed by their father. This had changed upon his death.

The siblings had been summoned by the Earl and Countess to London, and then they had learned just what a manipulative man their father had been, and that now they were heirs to the Earl's fortune.

“Morning, my lord. Captain Blake is in his cabin,” a seaman said as Dev arrived at the top of the gangway.

“Thank you.” He nodded and made his way along the decks to where the captain's cabin was located. Dev nodded to crewmen who were busy checking rigging and preparing the vessel to sail on the morning tide.

“Lord Sinclair, Lord Wynburg told me to expect your arrival,” the captain said, coming forward to meet him.

The man's cabin was pristine. The wood and brass were highly polished, as were the boots of the man before him. He had a waxed mustache that made up for his lack of hair, and broad shoulders encased in a white shirt.

“Come, we shall begin the inspection of the stock and I will have my man make a list for you to take to your uncle.”

An hour later Dev left the ship with an inventory of the stock and where and when it would reach its intended destination. He had been impressed by the way Captain Blake ran his ship and had taken many mental notes during his time on board. Once again back on the dock, Dev felt his heartbeat increase as he made his way to another ship berthed two along.

He had another reason for being here today, other than doing business on behalf of his uncle. He was here to look over his recently purchased first ship. The Neptune's Lady was now his. It was the beginning of his fleet, and would carry cargo and passengers to far-off places and return with goods. Silks, spices, and any manner of things. Things he would sell and begin to build his empire. Lord, he wanted to be on board for the first voyage, but he could not leave yet.

“Permission to come aboard!”

A face peered over the railing above.

“Who are you?”

“The new owner of this vessel,” Dev said politely.

“Permission to board, my lord!”

Dev shook his head; surely they had heard that cry four ships away. Eden would have heard it many miles away. Making his way up the gangway, he found himself facing three somber-faced men at the top.

“Lord Sinclair, I am Captain Bilberry.”

“Captain Bilberry, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Dev said, holding out his hand. Surprise flashed across the worn face before him, but he took the hand and shook it firmly.

“I expect you'd like a tour of your new purchase, Lord Sinclair?”

“If you can spare the time, Captain, I would like that very much.”

Leaning on the deck of his ship two hours later, Dev looked at the scene below, enjoying the bustle and activity. He had viewed every inch of the Neptune’s Lady, from the gleaming brass in the tallest mast, to the hammocks swinging below deck, and loved it all.

When his parents had died and left him as head of the family, he had realized the state of the Sinclair finances, the mess his father had left him. Leaving the army, he had done the best he could with what few options he had available to him, and they had survived—just. But his uncle had given him freedom, and with that freedom he had found the ability to breathe without tightness in his chest. Fear had ridden him for so long. Fear that he would not be able to feed and clothe his family, not be able to educate them and give them the life he wanted for them.

“You have to let me help you,” his uncle had said when Dev had initially refused his offers of support. Still reeling from his father's treatment of Eden and the knowledge of what his previously beloved parent had done to his family, Dev had been angry and confused. His pride had refused all offers of help; he had merely wanted to gather every single Sinclair up and retreat to their home, the only place his siblings had known before their parents’ death.

“Have you always had the ridiculous need to protect people?” Dev smiled as he remembered Lilly's words to him. She had not offered him sympathy as others would. She had spoken the truth, and for that he could only respect her.

“Will you need anything else, my lord?”

Dev turned to face Captain Bilberry.

“Nothing further, Captain. Everything looks excellent, and I shall look forward to seeing you in a few months.”

With a bow the captain departed, and Dev turned to look back over the railings.

His uncle's empire was vast, and Dev had plans to follow his lead. One day he too would own ships and warehouses. Some would come to him with the Earl's passing, but some he would have purchased and paid for himself.

Dev felt a shiver of awareness roll down his spine that had him scanning the buildings before him. He focused on a small room perched on top of a tavern.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Pushing himself upright, Dev watched Lilliana Braithwaite pace back and forth before a set of windows beneath which was one of the deadliest drinking houses in the area. The Anchor was renowned for drunkards, whoring, and brawls, and that was before the sun set. As she walked, another man watched her movements from the doorway. Dev recognized him as the servant from the day he had first seen her with the children.

“For pity’s sake, woman, I expressly told you to tell me if you wanted to court trouble!” Dev muttered, taking the gangway at speed. “What the bloody hell are you about now?”

Lilly walked through the three rooms one more time. They would need cleaning, and the furniture would have to be replaced.

“I'm really not sure about this, Toby. Another location would offer more protection.”

“I've told you why it's perfect, Lilly,” the boy said. He looked up at her with wise, old eyes that had seen more than any child his age should. “Temple Street is all well and good for when they's sick, but this will offer them a place to bolt. A place to hide and stay warm, close to where they spend most of their days.”

“Do they often need a place to hide?” Lilly almost feared the answer, as in her heart she knew it.

“Yes.”

One word that said so much, she thought, looking around the dark, dismal space. She would ensure it was bright and clean. Ensure those children who needed a place to hide would feel safe in it.

“I will be guided by you with what we need in here, Toby, if I choose to lease it.”

She and the boy had come up with the idea for leasing more rooms for the children after he had come to her with rumors that were suddenly thick on the London streets. Rumors about a man called Dominus, who was intent on building an army of children to work for him. An army of thieves that would take over all other gangs. No one knew his identity, but they feared him. It seemed his reputation had grown through foul deeds that even Toby struggled to recount to Lilly.

“I heard tell that he will destroy anyone who gets in his way, Lilly. I'm thinking you need to stop going to the Watch, and stop any inquiries, ’cause it must be him who's taking the children.”

“Why do you say that, Toby?” She moved to where he stood, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“’Cause maybe he'll come after you.”

Lilly remembered what Devonshire Sinclair had said to her.

“Have you given thought to the fact that the carriage that nearly hit you outside the Watch House did so deliberately?”

Was he right?

“I shall be careful, Toby. Do not worry about me, just keep yourself safe.”

The boy was far too thin still, Lilly thought as he started moving again, looking around the small room, checking corners for God knew what.

“We shall need someone to watch over this, Toby, should I lease it. I want to make sure it is kept clean and stocked with food and supplies. It will also need a sturdy lock on the inside.”

“Perhaps I can help you there, Miss Braithwaite?”

Lilly turned to Mr. Snow, the owner.

“Happens my sister lives nearby. Husband's a sailor and always off at sea. She has two little ones, and could use the extra money.”

“I would be happy to meet with her,” Lilly said. She wasn't going to say yes until she had checked the woman over thoroughly. After all, others may not care for these children, but she damn well did and she would have no one abusing them.

“We should leave now, Miss Braithwaite. I hear the noise rising downstairs, which would suggest the Anchor’s patrons are well down the barrel. I have no doubt that their excitement is only going to escalate. Therefore I suggest we hasten our departure.”

“Soon, Wilson,” Lilly said, waving a hand at her footman. His face was creased with worry lines and she hated that it was she who had put them there, but before they left she needed to discuss a few things with the landlord.

“The lease will run for ten years, Mr. Snow?”

“I'd only be willing to offer you five, Miss Braithwaite,” Mr. Snow said, rocking back on his heels and rubbing his chin.

“Well, never mind then,” Lilly placed her hand on Toby's shoulder. “I'm sure there are other places nearby.”

“I know of another,” Toby winked at her.

“Excellent, well lead on then.” Lilly smiled at Mr. Snow as she drew level with him.

“Now let's not be hasty, Miss Braithwaite.”

Lilly knew what he thought, that she was a noblewoman who was following one of her pet causes that would wane in time. Someone he could fleece with an exorbitant rent. However she was nobody's fool, her grandmother had seen to that, and she knew how to get what she wanted.

“Hasty, Mr. Snow? I have told you my conditions and as they are not suitable to you, there is nothing left to be said.”

Mr. Snow scratched his sandy head for a few seconds before speaking.

“As long as nothing outside the law happens up here and my patrons are not disturbed, you have yourself an agreement, Miss Braithwaite.”

Lilly was sure that with the Anchor’s reputation it would be her children who were disturbed, yet she remained silent on that fact. “Excellent.”

They spoke briefly, and then she told Mr. Snow that her man would be in touch. Taking Toby's hand, she left the room behind Wilson. The noise level rose as they reached the street below and pushed open the door. They encountered several drunken patrons who had obviously spilled out of the Anchor and were in the midst of an argument of some sort.

“I warned you, Miss,” Wilson said softly.

“That you did, Wilson, and this, Toby, is why I am unsure about this place. Surely the children will run into trouble here,” Lilly said as they skirted the group of men.

“Compared to most places we go, this is safe, Lilly, and it’s easy to get to. Plus a quieter place would make some of the children uncomfortable. As long as the door has a strong lock, the others will come here if they need a safe place to stop.”

Lilly understood the logic behind Toby's words, even if she didn't like it.

“Are we still going to that place like you promised?”

“Yes.” Lilly shuddered. Toby had a thirst for ghoulish things, and she had promised if he accompanied her, dressed and clean, on her visit today, she would take him to the place he had heard about.

“Don't like this, it's going to blow.”

“Blow what?” Lilly questioned Toby as she followed his eyes.

The group of men seemed to have swelled to about twenty, and their argument had increased in volume.

“’Ere, lads. We have a lady present!”

Damn, one of them had seen her before she could slip by. Wilson stepped in front of her and Toby stood at his side.

“Hello, my love, care to have a drink with old Dan?”

The voice came from over Wilson's shoulder.

“I'll move these two, Dan,” another voice said, “and then you and I can have a bit of fun.”

Lilly opened her reticule and removed her pistol. Stepping around the men, she aimed.

“I have no wish to have fun, sir. I wish to leave, so I insist you step aside.”

She'd thought he would be intimidated; instead, he laughed.

“There's plenty more should I go down, lovely, and a bullet may be worth a tumble with a lady.”

He lunged at her, Lilly fired, and then hell broke loose.

“Ouch! Bloody hell, she shot me in the toe!”

Lilly watched as more men poured out of the tavern, all heading her way. She, Toby, and Wilson would be outnumbered in seconds.

“Bloody woman. Why can you not stay out of trouble!”

Lilly's head snapped right at those angry words, and there was Lord Sinclair, striding toward her like an avenging angel. She had no time to sigh at the sight he made, instead preparing for the battle that was approaching.

Hands grabbed her and she was once again pushed behind Wilson and Toby. Lord Sinclair made three.

She heard the sound of fists, and then they were moving forward. A hand grabbed her, but Lilly jammed the handle of her pistol down hard, and it released her.

“The carriage is this way!” Lilly heard Wilson yell.

“My carriage is closer. Get to yours and head home. My name is Lord Sinclair, and I will see your mistress reaches there safely.”

After these roared words, Lilly felt herself lifted and thrown over a shoulder.

“Wilson, I—”

Lilly lost the power of speech as Lord Sinclair started to run, and then he wrenched open the carriage door and she was flung onto a seat. Righting herself, she watched Toby leap in nimbly beside her, and Lord Sinclair follow, slamming the door so hard, it rocked the carriage. He then sat opposite her, and the look in his green eyes told her he was in a rage.

“What were you doing in such a place?”

He held up a hand as she opened her mouth.

“Be warned that if you say it is none of my business, I shall not be pleased. In fact, I am bloody furious! I saw you in that window and could not believe my eyes. Have you no regard for your safety at all!”

Where had he been to see her in the window? On the streets below, perhaps? Surely his eyesight must be excellent to see her from down there?

“You promised me you would not walk into danger. Promised to ask James or me to accompany you—”

“Actually, I'm sure I didn't....” The words fell away as his eyes narrowed.

“You,” he pointed a finger at her, “are entirely too reckless.”

“James was busy,” she said, trying to glare at him, when in fact she wanted to touch his jaw, to see what it felt like clenched like that.

“I know you didn't contact him.”

“Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

“Yes.” He held her eyes, and Lilly had to fight not to look away.

“I have handled myself perfectly well for years, and have no need of a man now or ever.”

“God, you are a stubborn woman,” he growled. “For pity’s sake, I have saved you three times now. Is that not a warning to you?”

He did have a point, and perhaps if she thanked him it would go some way toward appeasing him.

“Please accept my gratitude for your actions on my behalf, Lord Sinclair.”

“Dev or Devon,” he snapped.

“Very well. Thank you, Devon.” Lilly nodded and tried to appear chastened, which she'd never really perfected.

“I cannot believe you pointed a gun at that sailor, and then shot him in the foot.” His eyes closed briefly.

“I had not intended to shoot him. He rushed at me, and I instinctively fired.”

“You should have asked me to accompany you today, Lilly.”

“I don't need your help, or anyone's for that matter.”

“Everyone needs help occasionally.”

She dismissed his words with a flick of her wrist.

“Please set us down anywhere, my lord. Toby and I can get a hackney.”

The last time they had been together, he had taken off her gloves, and she had run her hand over his face. The memory was still very clear in Lilly's mind, and making her uncomfortable in his company.

“Are we still going to Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, Lilly?”

“Of course,” Lilly said to the back of the boy’s head. His face was pressed to the window.

“As it happens, my destination is also Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, so I shall be happy to escort you there, and to pass the time on the journey you can tell me why you were at the docks today.”

“You made that up!” Lilly said, certain she was right, and equally certain she did not want to spend any more time than necessary in this man’s presence.

“No, I did not. My siblings are at present awaiting me outside Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors. No doubt impatiently,” Dev added, pulling his watch from his pocket and noting he was now late.

Dev knew she wanted to tell him to go to hell; he could see the anger in her eyes. They had darkened to purple and her hands were clenched. He was a rational man, always had been. He liked to follow things to their logical conclusions. Everything had its place, but she made him irrational. He wanted to lock her in a room with him so he could learn everything she was hiding behind those pretty eyes.

“Why were you in that room above the Anchor today, Lilly?”

Ignoring his question she said, “Thank you for....”

“Saving you?”

“Aiding us in leaving the scene, my lord.”

“Why were you there? Surely you know it is not safe for you—”

“Because I am a woman, my lord, and therefore unable to look after myself?”

“Because anyone who was caught in that today would have been lucky to escape, and yes, because you are an intelligent woman and should know better. For pity’s sake, Lilly, had I not arrived when I did you would have been trampled!” Dev felt the anger he had just tamped down surge to life once more. If he hadn't arrived when he had....

“My name is Miss Braithwaite, please use it.”

“You are Lilly to me, as you were the night you ran your hand over my—”

“Yes, thank you.” She shot a look at the boy, who had stopped looking out the window and was now watching them closely.

“He's right though, Lilly, we shouldn't have gone there without more men.”

He was young, perhaps the age of Dorrie and Somer. But Dev had a feeling this boy, like the one he had met in Lilly's little house in Temple Street, had seen some of the worst things life had to offer a child. He had that world-weary look in his eyes. Clean and tidy, he was small, as many were who had lived a tough life.

“Please set us down, Lord Sinclair. We will make our own way from here,” Lilly said, drawing his eyes from the boy.

“As I have explained, our destinations are the same. Therefore there is no need to take a hackney,” Dev said, swallowing his smile as her teeth snapped together. “What were you doing at the port today, Lilly?”

“What I was doing there is none of your business.”

“How long before we get to Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors?” the boy said as Dev was about to question her again.

“Not long, I am sure,” she said, straightening his cap and shirt.

She was comfortable with him. Dev had never seen her touch anyone willingly, except children; of course, she still had her gloves on.

“Five minutes, Toby, and we shall arrive.”

Dev was subjected to a frank appraisal from the lad, which he sat calmly through.

“Thank you for saving Lilly, my lord.”

Dev nodded.

“It could have got nasty back there, Lilly, like I'm always telling you. You gotta be more careful.”

Good boy, Dev thought. The boy was reinforcing his own statement. Lilly didn't like it, not one bit, yet she bore it silently from Toby.

“I shall be more careful in future.”

“When will you begin fixing the place up then?”

“What place are you fixing up, Toby?” Dev asked, keeping his voice light. He could usually pry anything out of his younger siblings with that tone.

“Do not bore Lord Sinclair, Toby, he has no interest in our affairs.”

Dev watched Lilly wriggle in her seat then adjust her gloves and straighten her skirts. She wanted to be anyplace but here with him, while Dev could honestly say he was quite happy where he was, sitting across from her, smelling her scent, watching her twitch and generally unsettling her.

“You always told me to respect my elders, Lilly, and if I am spoken to then I should speak back.”

She glared at Dev as he muffled his laughter behind a cough.

“Of course, and you are right, but I am sure it would take too long to go into all the details, Toby, therefore I shall apprise Lord Sinclair of them when we have more time.”

Toby looked at her as only a child who has been fobbed off could, then shrugged and remained silent.

“As I am meeting my family at Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, perhaps we can view the place together?”

“I-I don't think that will be necessary, thank you, Lord Sinclair. We have inconvenienced you enough. Toby and I have no wish to hold up your family, as he has never been there and it will take us some time to observe the exhibits.”

“My family has never been there either, and I'm sure they will wish to also take their time. The twins are very thorough.”

“Twins?” Toby said.

Dev spent the remainder of the journey telling the boy about his siblings. Lilly, he noticed, feigned indifference, yet he knew she was taking in every word. He liked children; they were open and honest, for the most, unless they were trying to get him to do something.

Further conversation ceased as the carriage pulled to a stop. Dev climbed down with Toby behind him and then he turned to help Lilly.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Braithwaite.”

She ignored the mocking tone of his voice and followed Toby down the street.

Chapter Fourteen

Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors was housed in a narrow alley below the ground. A large black sign with bloodred writing indicated they had arrived at their destination. However, if Lilly had not been sure she was at the correct location, Lord Sinclair's scowling family all standing outside awaiting him would have been a clear indication.

“You're late, Dev!”

This cry came from the young boy standing beside Essex and Cambridge Sinclair, as they approached.

Lilly watched, surprised, as Lord Sinclair reached his family and bent to hug the three children. Whatever he said into their ears had them laughing in seconds.

She felt suddenly off-balance again, as she was when he removed her glove. Men like him were not supposed to be this way. They were aloof and left the raising of siblings and children to nannies and mothers. He wasn't meant to appear human in her eyes.

Yet hadn't she seen him with Sam, and just now in the carriage with Toby, and of course with Bee and Mrs. Davey? She needed to hate this man, yet was sure the softening in her heart suggested the opposite. Not a good idea, Lilly, she reminded herself.

“How lovely to see you, Miss Braithwaite, and in my brother’s carriage.”

“And you, Mr. Sinclair,” Lilly said, looking at the younger brother, who was a smaller version of Devon.

“Cambridge, please,” he said, bowing.

“Your brother came to my assistance when I... ah....”

“Became lost,” Lord Sinclair said, turning with his little sisters’ hands in his. “These are my sisters, Miss Braithwaite, Dorset and Somerset, and my youngest brother, Warwickshire.”

The girls curtseyed and the boy bowed, although his eyes were fixed on the entrance of Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors.

“How lovely to meet you, and I would be honored if you would call me Lilliana, as Miss Braithwaite seems such a mouthful, don't you think.”

She heard Devon Sinclair snort, and knew it was because she had told him he must address her correctly.

“And this is Toby,” Lilly said, taking the boy's hand and pulling him forward. His reluctance was obvious and she knew how he felt. She was never very good around strangers, and he had never known children who were raised differently from him.

“Are you going inside too?”

“We are,” Lilly told Warwick when he questioned Toby.

“Can I walk with you, because they giggle and shriek and hold on to me when they're scared,” Warwick said, his face a picture of disgust as he nodded toward his sisters, who were now poking their tongues out at him.

“Suppose,” Toby said, shrugging.

“This is a nice surprise,” Essex Sinclair said, slipping her arm through Lilly's. “Another woman to even up the numbers.” She laughed, making light of what to Lilly felt like a very awkward situation. What must they think of her, arriving in their brother's carriage?

“That combination of roses and cinnamon you wear, Miss Braithwaite, is really rather stunning on the senses.”

Lilly looked at Cambridge Sinclair in surprise. How had he known what her special blend of fragrance was from where he stood, several feet away? Was her scent too strong? Perhaps she should wear less in future?

“I have a good sense of smell,” he added, as if reading her thoughts.

“Can we go in now, pleeeeease?”

“Yes, Warwick, however whining like a girl is not very attractive in men.”

“And yet if my memory serves me correctly,” Essie said to Cambridge, “Mother always said no one whined quite like you.”

Even Lilly snuffled behind her hand as Cambridge lunged at his sister, who in turned skipped from his reach with a giggle.

She had never been around family who actually seemed to enjoy each other's company. It was quite a revelation.

Lilly felt Lord Sinclair's large, warm hand on the small of her back, but while she stiffened, she said nothing. His family was nearby, and she had no wish to draw attention to herself.

They walked down the steps and into the small foyer of Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors. She then watched Lord Sinclair move to the front of the small party and pull some money from his pocket.

“I can pay for Toby and myself, Lord Sinclair,” Lilly said as he held up eight fingers.

“You could, but as I have already done so that would be a shame.”

“Oh but—”

“You get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” Lilly questioned Essex as they followed her siblings through the door the proprietor had indicated.

“Him taking control. Unfortunately, he has had to do it for so long we just stand back now and let him.”

“I don't have to let him,” Lilly muttered, following the others into the room and immediately coming to an abrupt halt as the door behind them slammed shut, and she was surrounded by darkness.

“Can I walk with Warwick, Lilly? I know you're scared of the dark, so if you say no that's all right too.”

Lilly could feel her cheeks heat as Toby whispered these words loudly as he moved to her side. She hoped no one else had overheard him, as she had no wish to give Devonshire any more ammunition to use against her.

“Of course, I'll be fine,” she said, patting his head. In seconds he was gone and she was surrounded by black and Sinclairs, and she wasn't sure which terrified her more.

Dev, unlike the others, could see what was happening before it happened. His night vision allowed him to move freely in the dark. Cam had the twins in hand, and Warwick seemed comfortable with Toby. Essie, he noted, had fallen in behind the boys in case she was needed, which left Lilly to him. He loved his family, but never more so when they were looking after him, and there was little doubt both Ess and Cam had deliberately left them together.

The room was not overly wide but it was long, and he could see wisps of mist before them. The walls were dotted with small indentations in which stood figures, some real, others fake. Large cobwebs draped the ceiling and drips of something that looked like blood fell into pools on the floor. He supposed if you didn't have his vision and were scared of the dark, like Lilly apparently was, it could be intimidating. There were pockets of red light strategically placed to add atmosphere, but only enough to lead the way.

“We have to walk through there, Lilly; the door behind us is now locked. Remember what the man told us when we entered,” Dev said, taking her arm to guide her forward. She hadn't made a move to follow the others.

“O-of course.”

She took a step forward and then another, but she looked a bit like a drunkard, listing from side to side. Dev kept pace with her, trying to see her eyes; however, her head was lowered and he had a suspicion she was closing them every few feet.

“You really are terrified of the dark.”

“No, of course not. Adults are not afraid of the dark.”

“Where is that rule written?”

“It just is.” He could tell she wanted to snap, but her words didn't have the strength behind them.

“Is this another weakness of the beautiful Miss Braithwaite?”

“No—yes, I... I— Dear God, what was that noise? The children, I must get to them.”

“Cam and Essie have them, and they are at present laughing and shrieking in delight at their adventure. You, however, are pale and sweaty and about to pass out from lack of air if you do not slow your breathing down.”

“Don't be absurd, I never faint.”

That put the poker back in her spine.

“How very well-bred of you,” Dev taunted.

“’Tis ill-mannered to rag at s-someone when they are not at their best, Lord Sinclair.”

“I am duly chastened,” Dev said, leading Lilly forward as the children called for them to follow.

Her body was rigid, the arm he held clenched tight.

“It's funny what scares us. I can't stand to see my siblings bleed. Unmans me completely, and I usually end up on the floor.”

“Really?”

Her eyes were going from left to right with speed, waiting to see what horrors awaited her next.

“Yes, it is a weakness, and gives my family no end of enjoyment at my expense, but there is little I can do to change it. Seeing the blood of anyone I care for unsettles me.” He remembered how he’d felt seeing the blood on Lilly's chin that night she had saved the boy, and prayed fervently he never saw any on her again in his lifetime.

Dev saw the man lift the ax and get ready to lunge at them, but knew Lilly had not. Placing an arm around her waist, he drew her to his side.

“My lord, unhand— Argh!”

Dev was sure he had just ruptured an eardrum, but it was worth it. Lilly was now buried against his chest. Her heart was beating a rapid tattoo and she was clutching his coat in her fists. He was a cad for taking advantage of her fears. Bad person that he was, watching her come unraveled was as enjoyable as her touching his face. When her defensives lowered, Lilly was extremely hard to resist.

“Lilly, it's all right.”

“I... I hate the dark and I hate to be scared and I want to l-leave now.”

The words were muffled in his chest. She sounded young and vulnerable at that moment, and he wondered at the experience that had given her this fear. One day she would tell him, along with everything else he wanted to know about this infuriating woman.

“And so we shall, but first we have to find the way out.”

Taking a deep breath, she pushed out of his arms and looked up at him.

“You're enjoying this.”

“Having a beautiful woman terrified in my arms? Never.” Dev laughed as she huffed.

“I will concede to being scared witless, my lord, and I will also concede that I need your assistance to navigate the remaining corridors of this hideous place, yet once we are outside, I will again dislike you intensely.”

“Fair enough, forewarned is forearmed. However, I must point out that you don't dislike me at all,” Dev said, intercepting her hand as it sought his sleeve and twining their fingers together. She struggled for several seconds, but he won the battle as a cobweb brushed her face and she swallowed a shriek.

“No, I do.”

“Of course you don’t. We have visited a Watch House together. I am the first person you have touched and enjoyed. Then there is the small matter of me saving you several times.”

“About me touching you,” she said. “Please forget that incident, as I was not myself.”

“Of course you were.'' He brushed her words aside.

“You are an arrogant and conceited man,” she said, moving closer to his side as another axe-wielding man appeared before him.

“Conceited no, arrogant upon occasion,” Dev conceded. “But do you honestly believe I could get away with being arrogant around my family? My sisters alone constantly humiliate and belittle me. It is a wonder I have any pride left at all.”

“And you would have them no other way,” she said softly.

Dev sighed. “How is it that on such short acquaintance you can see through me?”

A fountain of blood erupted from a man's chest and she screamed.

“Bloody bothering hell!”

Dev laughed as she shrieked out the words.

“Well, well, well, not quite as well-mannered as you portray yourself to be, Miss Braithwaite?”

“Go to hell.”

Dev was still laughing as they came to a stop behind their party, who were inspecting a cabinet of what seemed to be bloodied body parts. Everyone was talking at once as they pointed and stared; not one of them sounded frightened, he noted.

“How is it that none of them appear even the slightest bit afraid?”

“Well, I can't speak for Toby,” Dev said. “But my three have been exposed to darkness and terror by their elder siblings since they were old enough to walk. We used to play hide-and-seek in the dark, and often jumped out at them at any given time. It certainly toughened them up.”

“You all love each other very much, don't you?”

The words were quietly spoken, yet Dev heard the longing, and at that moment he would have told her what was inside his heart had he thought she was ready to hear the words. Because everyone deserved to be loved, but he believed Lilly had not experienced the emotion for some time, and that upset him a great deal.

“Dev!”

Lilly hated how she felt when Lord Sinclair released her hand and reached for one of the twins as she launched herself at him. She didn't want to like this man or need him, but it seemed she was in grave danger of both. When he had held her, suddenly the fear had receded, as if in some way he had taken it from her, which of course was ridiculous. She watched him hug the little girl tight as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“W-Warwick said I was a ninny for shrieking.”

“Lilly and I never heard you shriek, Somer, and he has called you worse names than that, sweetheart. So what else is upsetting you?”

He was so comfortable in his role of guardian with the girl, his gestures natural as he listened to her tale of woe.

“Yes, but he embarrassed me in front of T-Toby.”

“Ah, it all becomes clearer now,” he said, kissing one of his sister's damp cheeks before lowering her to her feet.

“You tell Warwick that if he says anything further you will tell Toby about his Dougie. Don't say it out loud, Somer, but make sure he knows you will if necessary, and that will be deterrent enough.”

“Why can't I say it out loud, Dev? He deserves it.”

Lilly loved watching children. They were just what they appeared. No front, back, or side for that matter. If they were sad, it showed. Of course, the children she knew were different from these Sinclairs. They had learned early not to show emotion, because no one cared.

She watched the smile the little girl gave her big brother before she ran off, happy once again. If only life were that simple, Lilly thought. She hoped the Sinclairs understood how lucky they were to have each other, but most especially to have the man who loved them all so much.

“That seems a very weighty sigh, Miss Braithwaite. Care to share your troubles?”

“No, I have no need to share anything with you.”

His chuckle made her shiver, thankful for the dark so he could not see the longing she felt was written all over her face.

“May I enquire as to the origins of the Dougie?”

“A small dog made of sticks that Eden made for him when he was three. He has never been parted from it and it sits beside his bed every night. We had Eden make four of them in case he lost the original.”

“And did he?”

“No, surprisingly he never lost it, and takes better care of it than his teeth.”

Lilly was surprised into a giggle.

“You should do that more. Your dimples are lovely.”

“Not many people go about laughing, Lord Sinclair.”

“No, but many do laugh regularly. I don't believe I have ever seen you do so.”

She felt his eyes on her face, but thankfully knew he could not read her expression.

“As we have only been acquainted for a short time, I don't believe you can accurately make such a statement.”

“I have watched you, even if we have not conversed.”

The breath suddenly lodged in her chest at his words; luckily she did not have to reply, as Toby spoke.

“Next is the murder house, Lilly.”

She could tell he was still wary of the Sinclair family, but for all that the boy was enjoying himself. His face had relaxed and he was happy to walk beside Warwick.

“Will the fun never stop,” she whispered.

“Sarcasm, Lilly. I am seeing many sides of you in your moment of weakness.”

“I am not now, nor am I ever, weak,” she muttered, clutching his hand once more, because quite frankly the prospect of walking into a dark room called the murder house without being anchored to someone was terrifying. It could have been any hand, she reassured herself. “I am merely unsettled. It shall pass.”

“It is supposed to be the most horrible and gruesome room in all of London, filled with obscene objects, like blood, body parts—”

“You will not scare me with talk of blood and other revolting things, my lord. Unlike you, my weakness is only the dark,” Lilly said, wishing she could leave his side and stalk after the children, yet knowing she would then be alone.

“I knew at the time it was folly to tell you about my little issue with blood. However I was fairly certain given your terrified state you would forget. A major miscalculation on my part, I fear.”

“A momentary weakness that I shall gladly use against you at the first opportunity, my lord.”

“Devon, for pity’s sake, Lilly. You have wept piteously upon my chest, groped my face, and yet I am still Lord Sinclair.”

“I most certainly did not grope your face!” Lilly said indignantly and followed it up with a shriek as they entered a room cloaked in darkness.

“Something touched my ankle.”

“Oh, that it had been me,” he sighed.

“Scoundrel!”

“You wound me.”

She heard the deep rumble in his chest.

“Men are extremely unpleasant creatures,” Lilly said softly, not wanting to alert whoever was lurking in the shadows to their presence.

“Not all men,” he whispered in her ear, his breath against her skin making her shudder.

Her eyes began to adjust, as this room had more light, and Lilly felt some of her fear ease. The murder house had severed heads and limbs, all, Lilly gleefully noted, slathered in blood. There were murder scenes reenacted, and the sound of moans and screams wailed around the walls.

“There is certainly a great deal of blood,” she said, hoping to unsettle the man at her side.

“I believe I mentioned that it is only my siblings' blood that upsets me, madam. Therefore, you may remove that smirk from your pale face.”

“I have no idea what you are speaking of, sir,” Lilly lifted her chin.

“Each of these is of a real murder, Lilly!” Toby yelled from his position in front of a gruesome murder scene.

“Will they have nightmares from this, my lord?” Lilly questioned, feeling guilty that such young children were being subjected to so much blood and gore.

“I don't think mine will. And if my guess is accurate, Toby has seen more horror than both you and I, therefore I think they will slumber well tonight.”

She looked at Toby as he gave Warwick a small smile.

“He is the one you told Essie about that day at Temple Street, isn't he?”

“Yes. When Mr. Davey found him, he was bruised and beaten, and lying on the doorstep.”

“Was he the first of the children to go there?”

“No, there had been three before him. However Toby was different from the start. Mr. and Mrs. Davey love him as their own, and he lets them because they do not smother him. Yet he is still untrusting and will disappear for a few days when he needs time alone, which of course worries us, but we try not to let that show. “

“And you have a special bond with him?”

Lilly didn't answer immediately, choosing her words carefully.

“There is something about him that tugs at my heart. He is so strong and stoic, and yet sometimes I see the fear in him.”

She felt Devon's hand squeeze her fingers gently before once again releasing them. Lilly shouldn't feel warm all over from such a small gesture, but she did.

“Miss Braithwaite, will you come and see this? Somer says it is a severed finger, but I believe it is a severed toe.”

Lilly looked at the twin before her then at the man beside her. “Surely your brother would be a better judge?”

“He will try and agree with both of us,” the little girl said dismissively. “He likes to be fair.” She rolled her eyes. “We have asked Cam, Essie, and Toby, and now we need to ask you.”

“You're a heartless little wretch, Dorset Sinclair, to dismiss your big brother so ruthlessly.”

Dorset merely poked her tongue out at Dev, and then took Lilly's arm and towed her to inspect the aforementioned appendage.

After it was decided that it was indeed a toe by Lilly, which pleased Dorset hugely, she was then taken in hand by both twins and escorted the rest of the way around the exhibits.

Lilly told herself she was relieved to have left Devon Sinclair's side, yet the truth was she felt bereft. And that alone was enough motivation to keep her distance.

Dev stayed a few feet behind Lilly as the twins dragged her from room to room. She was good with them, teasing them and tweaking a curl here and stroking a cheek there, much better than she was with adults. She seemed to lose her inhibitions around children.

“So do you mind telling me why, when you went to the port to look at your latest acquisition, you picked up a woman instead, and not just any woman, but your Miss Braithwaite?”

“She is not my anything, and stop meddling, Cambridge, or I'll break your nose again.”

“Funnily enough, Dev, when you did it last time—after it had healed—my sense of smell was even stronger. In fact, I had this strange smoke smell minutes before our kitchen in Oak’s Knoll caught fire, remember? I knew it was about to happen even though I was some distance away.”

Dev had realized very early on in his life that you could never insult Cam without him turning it around to the point where you forgot the original insult in favor of the discussion you were being sucked into. So it was important to stay focused.

“Just leave it be, Cam,” Dev warned, watching the sway of Lilly's skirts as she swung Somer's hand in her own.

He had seen another side to her today. Her fear of the dark was real, like his of blood. Then there was her humor. He'd believed her silly and brainless, but in fact she wasn't.

“Oh, surely I'm allowed a little more fun? After all, you harassed me for days when I fell in love with Miss Millhouse. I remember waking up one morning to you singing a love song at the end of my bed, and then there was the little matter of that red velvet heart. Eden made it, and Essie initialed it.”

“I take responsibility for the song, as I was the one singing it,” Dev said. “However, the heart was your sisters’ idea.”

“Which you happened to suggest,” Cam scoffed.

“Can Lilly and Toby come and eat an ice with us, Dev?” Somer said, coming to his side.

“Of course they can. Go and ask them nicely.”

“Just so you know, Dev, we like her,” Cam said, punching his brother in the arm before he started herding the children toward the exit.

So do I, Dev thought, feeling his chest tighten as she laughed at something Essie said.

Dev had known that when the time came that he found his mate, he would fall for her quickly. She would consume him, and he would want everything she gave and more. Lilly, he now knew, was that person. He thought it may take her a while longer to come to that conclusion, however.

Chapter Fifteen

“Can I not convince you to choose the lemon with a cream sarcenet overdress, Miss Braithwaite?”

“No thank you, Madam Dupont. I like the mustard, it suits me perfectly, and please add a trim of gray around the neck and cuffs. Plus I think a large collar of the same trim would be lovely, don't you?”

The seamstress made a choking sound but nodded.

Lilly wanted something really ugly to deter Lord Danderfield. She had tried to put the man off, but since that day she had gone to Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors with the Sinclair family and Toby, he had been most persistent. Yesterday he had called to take tea, and asked that she go driving with him today. Lilly had quickly refused, stating she already had an engagement.

He was a loathsome pig, and she would never marry him, even if she was forced to flee. She would rather live in Temple Street than be subjected to that man's advances.

His questions were personal and invasive. He wanted to know her every movement, and had told her that when they were wed, he would be curtailing all activities except those he approved of.

“Can I not interest you in something in a lighter fabric, Miss Braithwaite? Perhaps a—”

“I have quite made up my mind, Madam Dupont. Please have the dress made and delivered to my brother's house.”

Leaving the shop, she purchased a pair of gray gloves and a silly bonnet that she would have Bee add several unflattering things to.

She had thought a great deal about Lord Sinclair—Devon, as he insisted she call him. The man had infiltrated her head and made her smile at random moments. Lilly did not smile randomly, well not genuinely she didn't. She giggled foolishly in public, and in private she had not had much call to smile.

The most terrifying part of Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, upon reflection, was realizing just how much she had enjoyed it, had enjoyed being with the Sinclair family and allowing Devon Sinclair to hold her hand and lead her through those horrid dark rooms.

Toby had told her in his no-nonsense manner that they were all right, those Sinclairs. High praise indeed from a boy who rarely had a kind word to say to anyone.

Seeing the Sinclairs together as a family, watching them laugh and tease each other, hug and touch each other, had been something special to be part of, and Lilly was not so cynical that the experience had not moved her in many ways. If she were honest with herself, she'd been jealous of the bond they so obviously shared. She had lost count of how many times Devon Sinclair had touched a sibling with a stroke of his big hand on their heads or the brush of his lips on a cheek, and every gesture had made Lilly's toes tingle because she had wanted to be the recipient.

She was not herself, Lilly realized. So much was unsettling her. First there was this business with Lord Sinclair, and how she appeared to be letting him in to aspects of her life that she let no one in to. Actually, he had forced his way in, but still, had she fought harder, that would not have happened, surely. There was also the concern about Nicholas's insistence she marry Lord Danderfield, and of course, the issue of the missing children.

“Pardon me, Miss Braithwaite, but an urgent message has arrived for you.”

A young boy handed her a note. Opening her reticule, she handed him some coins before looking at the missive. The handwriting on the front was not familiar. The content made her heart sink.

Come quick to Lady Jane Street, a boy is hurt. Toby's name was printed at the bottom. Lilly looked at the paper then folded it carefully, and slipped it into her reticule. Something was not right, because firstly, Toby could not write, and secondly, how did he know where to find her, when only Bee was aware of her destination?

She couldn't afford to ignore the message if a child was in danger, yet what if it were dangerous for her, or a trap of some sort? She would have Bee and Wilson with her, so she should be quite safe Lilly reasoned.

She hurried to her carriage with Bee on her heels.

“Jane Street, Wilson,” Lilly said before she climbed inside.

“Is it a child, miss?”

“Yes, Bee. It says we are to go to Jane Street, as there is a child in trouble, and it was signed by Toby.”

“Toby can't write though, miss.”

“I know, but why would anyone else send me a note if there were not a very real danger?” Lilly said. “No, I must take a look. I will think of little else otherwise.”

The day was a gray one, but as yet no rain had fallen. When the carriage halted, Lilly stepped down into Jane Street.

“We will not be long, Barnabos,” Lilly told the driver as Wilson joined her and Bee on the street.

“'Tis not the best street in London, Miss Braithwaite,” Wilson said as they began walking down it.

“No indeed,” Lilly agreed. Looking around, she saw rickety old buildings that she was sure housed small children who wanted shelter for the night. London was full of such places. “I don't believe I've been here before, Wilson.”

“It's not a place I'm overly familiar with, Miss Braithwaite. Perhaps you should wait in the carriage with Bee, and I'll find the child.”

As the last word left her footman's mouth, Lilly felt icy fear grip her body. “We need to leave here; something is not right.”

They came from the buildings. Five men; Lilly and her servants had no chance of escape. She struggled as a man grabbed her, and watched in horror as Bee was thrown to the ground and Wilson knocked over the head with a piece of wood, his body crumpling at her feet. Desperate, she fought, but they were too strong. She was lifted, her hands and feet bound, and then a sack was lowered over her head and she was suddenly in her worst nightmare. Alone in the dark.

Dev had walked around the ballroom several times and had still not found Lilly. Bracing himself against a wall, he resorted to his other vision to find her. Color was suddenly all around him, but he forced himself to focus, breathing in and out slowly. He could do this, subject himself to this, for her. Where the hell was she?

He'd been uneasy all day, as if he were coming down with something, or something monumental were about to happen to him or his family. But as the minutes ticked away, Dev had a feeling it was to do with Lilly.

She was nowhere in sight and after an hour of checking rooms, the feelings began to intensify. She hadn't arrived at all, because he had asked the servant who announced the guests, and yet he knew she’d been planning to attend, because she had told Essex of her intentions.

“That scowl is scaring the ladies. What has your hackles up this evening, brother?”

Changing his vision, he looked at Cam.

“Have you seen Lilly?”

“No.”

“Something's not right.”

“Why do you say that?” Cam straightened from his habitual slouch, eyes intent as he looked at Dev. The Sinclairs understood each other, and their heightened senses fired if one of them sensed danger.

“I don't know, something just feels off,” Dev said, shrugging as if he could shake the unease from his body. “I have looked everywhere and in both visions, and still I cannot see her.

“You used your other sight here, with all this color? Are you all right? Why the hell did you not find me first?”

“I am fine, don't fuss. I have the same feeling I had when Eden was kidnapped, Cam.”

“And you are sure it relates to Lilly?”

“I am.”

“Is there any chance she simply chose not to attend this evening?”

“Yes, there is that chance. Yet it's my belief she has met with foul play, but I have no idea why I believe that.”

Cam didn't question him further. Dev's tone told him that his concern was very real, and if the Sinclairs knew one thing about each other, it was to respect their intuition.

“Her brother is here, in the card room.”

“I'll go,” Dev said, knowing how much Cam hated going into such a place now. It had once beckoned to him, and he still felt the lure upon occasion, so he stayed away.

“And I shall check once more to see if she actually arrived here tonight, and then left.”

Dev nodded and then headed for the card room. His clothes felt uncomfortable, as if lined by hair, and his throat tight.

Lilly, where the hell are you?

Nicholas Braithwaite was sitting at a table with four men when Dev walked in. He looked up and smiled as Dev approached. The smile was insolent and instantly set his teeth on edge.

“Lord Sinclair, have you come to play, seeing as your brother cannot be trusted to?”

As far as taunts went it was said more in the tone of jest, yet all present knew the intent behind Braithwaite's words was to insult. Nicholas had never forgiven Dev for removing Cam from his influence before the man had broken his brother completely.

“I would like to speak with you alone, Braithwaite. I shall need only a few minutes of your time.”

“I say, Sinclair, we are in the middle of a hand here, can't it wait?” one of the men said.

“No,” Dev held Nicholas's eyes. “It can't.”

“You'll have to wait, Sinclair. As you can see I'm on a winning streak, and unlike your brother, I won't be dragged from the table like an errant schoolboy.”

Braithwaite was nervous; Dev could see it in his body. His eyes were flitting from Dev to the cards in his hand. They had shared no more than a handful of words since the business that night with Cam, and possibly that was because where he went, Nicholas Braithwaite made sure he did not.

“Braithwaite, I will not ask politely next time,” Dev said, not raising his voice, but there must have been something in his tone because everyone at the table grew still. He didn't usually make scenes, but for Lilly he would make an exception.

He needed information about her, and to get that he had to start with those closest to her.

“Gentlemen, it seems I must leave you briefly. I shall return in due course, after my brief conversation with Lord Sinclair.”

Dev watched the man rise and move to his side.

“You can bloody well walk me back to the ballroom; that is the only time I will allow you, Sinclair. I had a winning hand, damn you!”

“I think not,” Dev said, taking his arm and pushing him toward the doors that led to a hall. He marched Braithwaite down it until he found an empty room.

“Unhand me at once!”

Ignoring him, Dev shoved the man through the doorway and slammed the door shut behind him. He had to give Braithwaite some credit; he did not move away from him, instead standing his ground.

“Be quick. I have little time for the likes of you, Sinclair. Poor country boy who lives off his uncle's coattails.”

Dev ignored the taunt and let the silence stretch until he was sure Nicholas's nerves were taut, and then he spoke.

“Where is your sister?”

Surprise flashed across the man's face.

“What has my sister's location got to do with you, country boy?”

There were only so many insults a man could take, especially when worry was riding him hard. It was just a small tap to the face, but it made Braithwaite's head snap back and when he righted himself his upper lip had begun to swell.

“Try that again,” Dev growled.

“How dare you strike me! Why, I'll have you thrown out!”

“Not keen on challenging me yourself, Nicholas, like most men would do?” Dev said, putting an emphasis on the word men. “Of course, you like to get a man when he is down, don't you, Braithwaite? Make sure your victims are already weakened before you strike. How terribly brave you are.”

Dev was usually a peaceful man, yet he had to admit to enjoying taunting Lilly’s brother, partly because of Cambridge, but more importantly, Lilly.

He now cared for her, and after talking with James again, they believed this man had not treated her as she deserved.

Handsome and rich, Nicholas Braithwaite appeared to have it all. Everything that should have made him so much more than he had become. But what got to Dev the most was the fact that this was Lilly's big brother, and it seemed he had failed in that role. To him, that was an unpardonable sin.

“Where... is... your... sister?”

Braithwaite didn't speak quickly enough for Dev, so he took a step closer to him once more.

“Sh-she didn't come home today!”

“Home from where?”

“Shopping.”

The fist in Dev's stomach clenched tighter.

“And where have you looked for her?”

Nicholas dropped his eyes.

“I asked you a question, Braithwaite. Where have you looked for her?”

“Her servants did not return either, so it's my belief she has run away. I am simply waiting to hear word to that effect. I will then see she is brought back to London.”

Dev clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

“Why would she run away?”

“This is none of your business, Sinclair.”

“Answer the question or I will beat the answer from you.”

“I-I have consented to a match between her and Lord Danderfield. My sister is taking some time to understand that I have her best interests at heart.”

“You would place your sister in the hands of such a man?”

Nicholas Braithwaite stumbled backward as Dev roared at him.

“What the hell has she done to deserve such a fate? Damn you, she is your sister, for God's sake!”

“Sh-she needs to marry.”

“Why?” Dev stood over the man, deliberately intimidating him.

“That is none of your business.”

Looking at the guilt in Nicholas Braithwaite's eyes, Dev began to understand his motives. “It's money you want, isn't it? You're selling your sister to save yourself.”

“No, it is time she wed.”

“You're lying. I know this because like your sister, you drop your eyes. I'll tell you something else, Braithwaite. Sisters are something to be treasured. They are the softer part of us. The part that knows when you need to be hugged. The part that can make you laugh and cry. Quite simply, without my sisters I would be nothing.”

“W-we are not like that.”

“Like what? Loving? You weak-kneed fool. She is your little sister; she should have to look no further for support than you.”

He wouldn't look at Dev.

“If any harm has come to her, Braithwaite, my advice to you is to leave town, because if I ever see you again, you will know fear.”

“She is t-testing me,” he rasped.

Disgusted, Dev left to find his brother before he beat the man senseless. Had she run away? Would she simply leave her house in Temple Street? Was that where she had run too?

Cam was where he had left him.

“Braithwaite said she did not return home from shopping today, and neither did her maid or footman. He believes she has run away to show him she will not marry Lord Danderfield.”

“Good God, he does not mean to wed her to that revolting man, surely?”

Dev gave a curt nod. “It's my belief he is doing so because he has used up all his money and is now in debt.”

“He wants Danderfield's money.”

“James said Lilly's grandmother left her money, and thought the majority may come to her when she reaches a certain age if she does not wed. Perhaps this money is what he is after, rather than the settlement from Danderfield.”

Cam whistled. “Whatever the situation is, we need to find her. I wonder if she is at Temple Street, Dev?”

“Pardon me, my lord.”

A smartly dressed servant stood at Dev's elbow. He looked uncomfortable and his face was flushed.

“Yes?”

“A Mr. Davey has appeared at the servants’ entrance asking to speak with you, Lord Sinclair. I would normally have turned him away, but he said it was a life or death matter, and you would not be pleased if I were to do so. He has a young boy with him, and both seem extremely agitated. He said they would not leave until I mentioned the name Miss Braithwaite to you.”

“Take me to him at once, please,” Dev said as the knot in his stomach grew larger. With Cam on his heels, he headed out of the ballroom and down a long hallway, then a set of narrow stairs and through a door at the bottom. Mr. Davey stood with Toby at his side in a small entranceway. Both their faces were lined with worry.

“Lord Sinclair!” Toby called to him as he approached.

“My lord.” Mr. Davey bowed.

“Thank you, I know them.” Dev handed out several notes he had pulled from his pocket to the two servants who appeared to be standing guard. “I would be grateful for a moment alone with them, if you please.”

The staff left to go about their duties, leaving the Sinclair brothers with Mr. Davey and Toby.

“Tell me what has happened, Mr. Davey?”

“I have grave concerns for my mistress.”

Dev nodded for him to continue.

“Bee, Miss Braithwaite's maid, and her footman, Wilson, were brought to Temple Street by Miss Braithwaite's driver, as Temple Street was nearby and he knew they needed help immediately.”

Dev tried to stay calm, when inside, his stomach was twisting into knots.

“He found them lying on the ground. Mr. Wilson had been knocked over the head, and Bee also hurt. Of Miss Braithwaite there was no sign. Bee managed to tell us that her mistress received a note while out shopping. It said children were in trouble in Jane Street. She went to investigate, and she, Bee, and Wilson were set upon by men.”

“Bee said the note came from me, but I can't write, and Lilly knew this, but went anyway,” Toby added, his face pale and drawn with worry.

Dev bit back the anger at Lilly's reckless behavior, nodding for the boy to continue.

“I went out and looked for her everywhere, and put the word out for any information, but I ain't heard nothing back yet,” Toby said. “I think it’s got something to do with the missing children. Lilly's been interfering, and those that are taking them must be aware of that.”

“But to take a woman of noble birth is a risk.” Cam entered the conversation.

“Not if the man who is taking the boys is of noble birth,” Dev said slowly.

“Care to enlighten me as to what the hell is going on?”

Dev turned to see James appear.

“Your sisters had an uneasy feeling all was not well with you, and sent me to find you at once. I asked a footman where Lord Sinclair and his reprobate brother had gone to, and he led me here.”

Dev's chest was burning.

“Your cousin is missing, James, and you need to go to the Watch House and alert them, then collect every servant from your house and my uncle’s. We need to start searching at once.”

“Lilly?” James frowned, his eyes going from Dev to Toby. “How do you know she is missing?”

“She has not arrived,” Cam said, “and Dev is uneasy.”

“Has her brother, Lord Braithwaite, been notified?” James questioned. He did not doubt Dev’s intuition.

Toby and Mr. Davey looked blank.

“I have just spoken with him and he has no idea where she is,” Dev said.

“But how can that be?” James looked confused. “She is his sister for Christ’s sake!”

“Come there is more, but we need to start looking, because the feeling inside me says she is in danger,” Dev urged everyone from the room, Toby and Mr. Davey included. “We will gather everyone and leave at once.” They soon found themselves in the front entrance. Wide-eyed, the man and boy stayed close as they took in the elegant surroundings and stares from the guests they passed.

Essie and Eden were called, and soon they were all awaiting carriages while Cam recounted the story once more for his sisters.

“We need to start looking,” Eden said to each of her siblings. “All of us, and using our senses.”

“Agreed,” Cam and Essie said. James and Dev remained silent, both working through and discarding plans.

“Braithwaite, if you don't want me to darken your eyes, I suggest you turn and walk smartly in the opposite direction,” Dev snarled as the man appeared before them. To his surprise, he kept advancing.

“What has you all out here so soon after you have arrived?”

“Go away, Nicholas, because what Dev leaves I will finish!” James said, glaring at his cousin.

“If you have information about my sister, I wish to hear it.”

“Why would you think we have information about her when you told me you thought she had run away?” Dev said. “Actually, what you said was you think she has run away because you have decided to wed her to Lord Danderfield. And the reason for that is that you need the money to clear your gambling debts.” Dev felt no shame in telling everyone assembled what Lilly's brother was capable of.

“What!” James stepped toward his cousin.

“Do you have knowledge about my sister?” Nicholas Braithwaite stood his ground. “If I was wrong in my belief she has run away, I wish to know it, and help find her.”

“Pardon?” Dev was sure he'd heard the words wrong.

“I want to help find her.”

For seconds no one spoke. Nicholas Braithwaite had lost the cynical look he usually wore, Dev realized, and in fact appeared uncertain, his eyes darting back and forth from Dev to James, who both, he was sure, looked as malleable as stone.

“Perhaps you should have thought of that sooner, Braithwaite,” Cam said, placing a restraining arm on Dev's arm. “Don't create a scene out here, brother. There are far too many flapping ears and wagging tongues about.”

“Of course you do, my lord,” Eden said, taking a firm hold on her husband's arm in case he had the urge to finish what Dev had started. “And we would be grateful for any help.”

“No, we wouldn't,” James and Dev growled.

“Do you have news about Lilliana or not?” Braithwaite said again. “I have a right to know as her brother.”

“Rights,” Dev snarled. “Don't you dare speak to me of rights, when you were about to force her into marriage!”

“We believe she has met with foul play, as her servants were found by your sister’s driver, bruised and beaten,” James said quickly, cutting Dev off as he opened his mouth to continue abusing Lilly's brother. “Of Lilliana there was no sign.”

“Dear God. I-I had no idea, I truly believed—”

“Fear not, Lord Braithwaite, we shall find your sister,” Eden said.

“Your brother said some things to me that shamed me, Duchess. For the first time in many years I saw myself as I truly am.”

“I would have thought you incapable of that emotion, given that I have firsthand knowledge of your depravity, Braithwaite, not to mention your obvious disrespect of your sister and her welfare,” Dev said.

“I am a long way from forgiveness, Nicholas, but as I too have guilt where Lilly is concerned, and my treatment of her, I will allow you to help us,” James said. “You will go to the Watch House with Mr. Davey and then return him to Temple Street, and you may go home or to my house and await news.”

“But where do you all go?”

“I'm afraid that is as yet undetermined. However, when I have news of your sister, I will send word to my house. Tell Buttles I sent you.”

“But—”

“Braithwaite, so help me God, I will throw you into your carriage if you do not go willingly. Your cousin has thrown you an olive branch. Personally, I would rather beat you with it, but I will respect him in this,” Dev said. “But if you do not do as he states and alert the Watch, then never show your face before me again.”

“I will ensure it is done, Lord Sinclair,” Mr. Davey said, his face grim.

“I will do it.” Nicholas gave a short bow before he left with Mr. Davey on his heels.

“Is there any way I can get you to go home, wife, and take your sister with you?” James said, looking at Eden and Essie.

“No, we need to be together to find Lilly. Our senses are stronger that way.”

“I could have married anyone, but I chose you,” James muttered as he grabbed Eden and planted a loud kiss on her lips, uncaring of the outraged gasps behind him as two of society’s matrons tittered in horror at such a display in public.

“Outside now,” Dev said to his family, aware of the spectacle they were making.

They quickly left the house and assembled on the street outside.

“Toby.” Dev placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. “We need you to take us to anyone who may have information. I will pay handsomely, but do not know where to go.”

The boy nodded. “I can do that, but it's not a place for ladies—or gentlemen for that matter.”

“Just as well none of those are present then,” Cam said.

“Toby is right,” Dev said to his sisters. “I'm not sure you should come, as this will be unpleasant and dangerous. As your brother, I want to keep you safe—”

“Stow it, Dev, we are coming,” Eden said, grabbing her husband's hand.

“We tried.” The Duke sighed.

“Lead on, Toby,” Dev said, taking Essie's hand, and seconds later they were moving.

Hold on, Lilly, I'm coming.

Chapter Sixteen

Light from the gas lamps did not offer much illumination as they followed on Toby's heels through the London streets. Dev had to stay alert, as Toby would slip down an alley no wider than an arm span and expect them to be behind him. He hurried up and down small lanes Dev had not known even existed.

No one spoke, as Eden had her earplugs out and was listening to see if she could detect any voices or information that may lead them to Lilly.

They stayed connected, the Sinclair siblings holding hands so their strength was greater and their senses stronger. Dev felt sensations travel through them as they focused, all intent on finding Lilly.

He and James spoke to whomever Toby took them too, and handed over money for information, but as yet none of it led him to Lilly. They frequented small, dilapidated buildings, and talked with people huddled in alleyways. No one approached, and Dev thought that was due to the fierce expression he knew he wore.

Someone knew something, and he was willing to pay whatever was needed to get her back, but the desperation inside him told him he had to find her soon.

They passed people doing things no child should know about, yet Toby never flinched, his small body watchful and silent as they made their way to another informant, who he hoped would have the information he needed. Dev used his vision in the more sinister areas to determine anything moving or alive; most kept out their way, as they were moving fast and a large group.

Essie and Eden stayed between the men, but when two men tried to grab Essie, Dev's growl and Cam's fist sent them back to the shadows.

“Stay here, my lord, and I shall return shortly.”

They had reached the back of a small alehouse. Dev could hear the rumble of noise with the occasional high-pitched squeal.

“The big brother in me demands I shouldn't let you go in there unescorted, Toby, yet I know this situation is not new to you.”

Toby snorted and shook his head, but said nothing before disappearing through a door.

“A remarkable young boy,” James said, pulling Eden in front of him and wrapping his arms around her.

“Are you all right, Eden?” Dev asked, as this was harder on her than any of them. She would be able to hear everything that was happening around her.

“I am, although what is taking place in the rooms somewhere in that house is extremely disturbing.”

Cam snorted, knowing full well it was a brothel.

“Where the hell is she?” Dev said, giving voice to his fears.

“If anyone can find her, brother, it is us,” Cam said. “We will search for as long as we need.”

Dev looked at the faces of his family, all there to support him and find the woman he loved. Yes, it was love, he knew that now, because the pain inside him was unlike anything he had experienced before.

Toby came out of the building. “I have just spoken to Split, who has heard from Jessie, who overheard his master, Ely Chit, talking to Delve about something happening down at a warehouse on Dilth Street. It's old and unused and by the water.”

Dev's siblings often talked in circles, so he followed with what little patience he had left.

“We has to find her tonight,” Toby added. “’Cause Jessie said that Gegan is involved, and that means there's a lot of money at stake. ’Cause he'd sell his mother for a coin.”

“Do they know what he's involved in?”

“Jessie said Dominus was at Dilth Street.”

“Dominus being?” James asked.

“He's new in town, but mean and done some bad things. But he's starting up an army of thieves, so we have heard.”

“And the missing children could have been kidnapped to work for him?” Dev made the leap.

“That's my guess, but there's got to be more, ’cause we all know how to filch, so this had to be more,” Toby said.

“Specialized, you mean?” Cam said. “As if he wants them trained for a reason?”

“Not sure what the first word means, but I think the other part’s right. Could be he plans to steal from nobs.”

“Nobs like us,” James said.

The boy nodded. “Strange that no one seen him yet though, and don't know much about him.”

“Why strange?” Dev asked.

“Rumors have a way of spreading on these streets. The man must be a mean one, if he's managed to keep everyone's lips tight.”

Dev thought about that for a few seconds. Could whoever was taking these children be the one who had Lilly? Was her disappearance a direct result of her interference? If he had her, what did he plan to do to her?

He could not contemplate that, so he focused on Toby again.

“We have to find her now,” Dev said, the tension inside him rising.

“Let's go then.”

Toby led them deeper into a dark side of London. Buildings rose above them along narrow lanes, blocking even the smallest glimpse of the moon.

“Now,” Eden whispered when they reached the end of a narrow lane. “Hold hands now.”

Dev and his siblings formed a circle and while they closed their eyes, he changed his vision and focused.

“I hear men, three, possibly four. They are discussing a woman,” Eden said. “Where they are to take her, and what is to be done. It's Lilly, I'm certain, and she is in very real danger. We must get to her now.”

“She's near, I can detect the faintest trace of her scent,” Cam added.

“Fear,” Essie whispered. “She's scared because it's dark, and she's alone.”

“The warehouse is just down there,” Toby said, his eyes wide as he tried to understand what he was hearing.

They trod silently to where the old building stood. Dev looked around for people and saw two men standing at the front of the building. A black carriage stood waiting for someone, and Dev wondered if it belonged to this Dominus Toby spoke of. Looking toward the building, he opened his senses and found Lilly, her unique color among the others inside. She was alone, and relief nearly buckled his knees as he watched her move. She was alive and her color strong.

“I see her,” Dev whispered. “I'm going to get inside through one of the open boards. Cam, you come with me and watch my back. You others stay here.”

“I should come with you.”

“I know you want to, Toby, but I need you to go back to the end of the street and keep an eye out for anyone approaching.”

He didn't want to; Dev could see it in the narrowing of his eyes and jut of his jaw.

“Trust me to get her out safe, Toby.”

“I do.”

“Can I take your scarf with me? I may need it.”

Nodding, the boy quickly unwound it from his neck and then left.

“No risks, Dev, you call to Eden if you need help, and I'll come,” James said.

Leaving their family looking grim, he and Cam walked along the building until they found some broken boards and a space big enough to slip through.

I'm coming, Lilly.

Lilly was dirty, hungry, and in the light of day, she had also been bloody angry. Now, however, the darkness was making her fear for her sanity. Moonlight helped, and showed her she was alone in the room, but still the shadows had appeared, and with them the fear.

Her hands and feet were bound, and she had been bundled into a cart and carried for hours—well it had felt like hours—to her current accommodation.

The small room she had been thrown into had nothing to sit on or look at. In fact, it was dark, damp, and airless, with only one window above her in the roof.

She feared for Bee and Wilson, and hoped they had survived the attack. Where was she? Would anyone come for her?

Looking up, Lilly tried to focus on the glass and the sky beyond, anything to force back the terror that was rising inside her. Could she see stars? Just one that she could focus on.

Biting her lip to stop the moan of terror, she inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it.

“You are strong, Lilly. The dark will soon give way to light, and you will be safe until then.” She forced herself to focus on those words. She was intelligent and knew that her fear was irrational, but it had been that way since she was a child.

Did anyone know, besides her staff, that she was missing? Who would come and find her? Toby, definitely, Wilson and Bee if they were unhurt. Mr. and Mrs. Davey, perhaps. Her brother? Definitely not. In fact, he would probably rejoice in her disappearance. A pair of green eyes slipped into her head and Lilly quickly banished them.

Lord Sinclair would come for her if he knew she had disappeared, because he was an honorable man, but who would tell him? Blinking several times, she forced the tears away. She would not think of him now, or the prospect that she would never see him again. It really was ridiculous how she felt about him, and all simply because he had been nice to her.

Liar, there is a great deal more to your feelings for him than that, a little voice inside her head said. Lilly pushed it aside.

Had she been kidnapped because of her interference with the missing children? It now seemed likely. If whoever was taking them had enough power, he could have her removed—as he had—successfully. Yet, she was still the daughter of a nobleman, so kidnapping her would not go unnoticed. Presumably she was a threat that made this worth doing.

Relief filled her as a key fitted into the lock on her door. She didn't care who walked through that door; whoever it was would take her mind off the dark and the thoughts spinning around inside her head. Lilly struggled to wedge her bottom into the corner of the room and lever herself to her feet. If she was to face her captors, it would be standing and defiant.

“I ’ave food.”

Not exactly a cheerful face, yet the man was not fearful-looking either. Short and round, he could be everyone's favorite uncle and not their feared jailer, and better still, he had a lamp. Lilly felt the muscles in her body slowly ease as light began to fill the dark spaces in the small room.

“Why am I here?”

“Not my business. Eat and drink or don't, I care nothing either way.”

“Charming. I bet you have trouble with the ladies,” Lilly muttered, wondering if she antagonized him enough, would he leave and forget to take the lamp with him. “It's not as if you have the physical attributes to fall back on either.” Lilly clamped her knees together to stop them shaking. She would not show this man she was terrified. Her grandmother had told her to never show fear when faced with adversity. “Attack, Lilliana, when others expect you to cower!”

“There's no call for you to speak to me like that!”

“Oh sorry, were the words to big for you to understand?” Lilly cooed. “I meant that you're ugly.”

She watched his face puff up and turn as red as Mr. Davey's nose on a chilly winter's day. Lilly wondered why she was antagonizing the man when she was alone, bound hand and foot, and totally at his mercy.

“I have ladies!”

A man's ego was so fragile, Lilly thought, looking him over slowly and hoping he couldn't hear the thudding of her heart.

“Come now, sir, we both know the women who spend time with you could not be termed ladies, even loosely.” She was pleased with her words, even if they were high-pitched and squeaky.

“My Rosetta is a lady!”

“I need you out here, Joe!” The words came from somewhere beyond the door.

“I ain't untying your hands now.”

With a final glare at Lilly, the man dropped the tray at her feet, taking the lamp with him as he left the room. As the door clicked shut, Lilly was once again plunged into darkness.

Slumping to the ground, she pulled up her knees. How would she ever escape from here? The food smelled bad and she had no intention of putting any of it into her mouth; the way she was feeling it would just come out again anyway. She felt the sting of tears begin to slowly fall down her cheeks and was angry for the weakness. Tears achieved nothing but a sore head and tired eyes, yet still they came. Lying on her side, Lilly gave up the battle, letting them flow in the hopes that exhaustion would help her sleep and, let her escape the darkness.

Chapter Seventeen

Dev, with Cam on his heels, made it through the warehouse undetected and up to the second floor. He had seen the colors of several men grouped together in a small room downstairs, but had managed to keep away from there. Passing the door that he knew Lilly sat behind, he noted the lock was large and secure and the door made of sturdy wood. He had nothing to break it, and even if he did, it would alert someone that he was there.

Moving past, he did not tell Lilly he was near, but kept walking to a small door at the end of the hallway. Opening it, he found a balcony.

“You stay here,” he whispered to Cam, then motioned that he was going up onto the roof.

Climbing onto the railing, he pulled himself up. If his luck was in, there would be a window in the side of the building or in the roof and he could get her out that way. Walking slowly, he hoped it would hold him. Dropping to his knees when he was above her, he found a window and looked down. Pressing his face to the glass, he tried to find her.

“Lilly, it's Devon,” he said softly, using his fingers to tap on the pane. He kept tapping until he heard her call his name. He had to take a chance and break the glass—hopefully they would not hear him from below.

“I'm going to break the glass, Lilly. Move away from beneath it.”

Standing, he stomped his foot, and the window cracked instantly. Taking off his jacket, he wrapped it around his fist and cleared the glass from the opening.

“Please hurry, Devon!”

He could hear the panic in her voice and remembered her fear of the dark. Add to that everything else she had endured, and he would say she was close to hysteria.

“Soon, Lilly, I will have you out soon. Just a few minutes more.”

“I-i-it’s dark in here.”

“I know, sweetheart. I am going to put a knot in the end of this scarf and then lower it to you. I want you to use both hands and hold on tight while I pull you up.” Lord, he hoped she was strong enough. The distance wasn't great, yet it would be difficult for her.

“I-I can't. My hands are bound at the back.”

Someone would pay for leaving her bound, helpless, and alone in the dark; he would see to it. Once again on his stomach, he looked down at her.

Dirt was smeared over her face, her clothes were torn, and her hair had come unbound. However, it was the look of utter desperation in her eyes that made him curse. He'd never seen that look before.

“Y-you'll have to get help.”

“I won't leave you, Lilly,” Dev said, trying to work out how the hell he was going to get her out of the room. She sniffed but said nothing further.

“Bend at the waist and slip your hands under your bottom. Then sit on it and try and wriggle them under your legs so they are bound in front of you.”

He watched as she wriggled, trying to push her hands beneath her.

“My petticoats and bottom are too large.”

“Your bottom is not too large, it's perfect. Now wriggle harder.”

She did and finally she sat and began a series of maneuvers to try and get her legs through her hands. If she failed he would call Cam, then drop into the room and lift her up to him.

“It-it's hard!”

Her skirts were now up around her waist as she tried to wriggle her hands past her ankles, and if the situation were not so dire, he would take great pleasure in viewing her long, slender limbs.

“Don't you dare look at my—”

“Knickers?” Dev supplied. At least she had some fight back in her voice.

“I did it!”

“Clever girl. Now stand and take the end of the scarf.”

Sitting upright, Dev braced his feet on either side of the window frame and began to pull her up.

“Don't drop me!”

“Untrusting wench!” Dev grunted.

“My h-hands are slipping.”

“No,” Dev wheezed, “they are not.”

“Pull, Dev!”

He answered with a grunt. When his hand clamped on her wrist, she sobbed. Standing, he hauled her through the opening and then she was free.

“I–I have you,” Dev rasped, breathless as he lowered them to the roof. He sat with her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her. He held her tight and dropped his head to her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered, burrowing into him. “I didn't think anyone would come so soon. I-it was dark, and then a man came and I was horrid to him, and he left a-again, taking his lamp.”

He let her babble out her fear as he held her, stroking her hair and assuring her she was with him now, and safe.

“Let me untie you,” he said when his breathing had begun to regulate and she had run out of words.

“Thank you.” She gripped his neck hard. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

Dev kissed her cheek, and then easing her back, he untied her feet and hands, rubbing each when he had finished.

“I have you now, sweetheart; no one will hurt you again,” he said, cupping her face between his hands. “I have been slowly going out of my mind imagining what horrors you were being exposed to.”

“You really mean that, don't you?” she whispered.

“I never say anything I don't mean.”

“I-I did not think anyone would come for me,” she added, and Dev wanted to go and find Nicholas Braithwaite and punch him, only this time harder.

“My family and James are here, plus Toby, and I would love to tell you how many ways you are special to me, Lilly, but right now we need to leave as quietly and quickly as I came, before any of us is detected.”

Lilly nodded. Dev lifted her to her feet. He took her gloved hand and led her to the edge of the roof. Cam was waiting to take her, and Dev lowered Lilly into his arms. He quickly followed. Opening the door, they saw no one in the hallway, and he pulled her through behind him. On tiptoes they walked its length, and then started down the stairs.

“We need to slip past a room where I believe several men are, and as there could be trouble waiting for us out there you must run if I tell you to,” Dev whispered. “My family will be outside, go to them.”

“I will not leave you.”

“You will do as you are told, Lilly. If I say run, you run to where the others await.”

“I—”

“Promise me,” Dev demanded softly.

“I promise.”

Cam snorted at the unenthusiastic tone of her voice. However, she had promised, so at least Dev had her word.

Dev could see clearly; Lilly and Cam, however, could not, so he led them silently through the warehouse. It was as they approached the hole they had entered through that he heard the sound of feet running toward them.

“Run straight ahead, Lilly, there is a hole in the wall. Once you are through, call James!”

She left his side as the first man reached him. Turning, Dev swung out with his leg as James had taught him to. It connected and the man went down. But seconds later, the next was upon him.

Cam had two on him, and the brothers fought with everything they had.

Dev heard Cam's war cry as he took a fist to the chin that made him see stars. He looked and found James entering the fray, Dev’s sisters behind him. He took a right to the jaw and quickly returned the favor with more force.

“Don't touch him, you cad!”

Lilly appeared on his right, wielding a piece of wood like a saber. Dev didn't have time to roar at her, as the man before him was bigger and meaner than the others. He just hoped she stayed healthy so he could kill her for disobeying him when this was over.

“Leave now!” he managed before taking a fist to the stomach that nearly doubled him over.

“Take that!”

Dev watched the man’s eyes open wider and then he simply fell backward, landing hard enough to ensure that if Lilly hadn't cracked his head, the floor would have. James did some sort of swinging kick caught his man unaware and sent him face-first into a wall. Cam, with a well-placed punch, finished off his opponent. Nobody moved for several seconds, all dragging in large lungfuls of salty air.

“You, madam,” Dev wheezed, pointing at Lilly when he could speak, “promised me you would run when I told you to! Yet I turn around to see you wielding that bloody piece of wood like Zenobia!”

“Wasn't she Queen of the Palmyrene Empire in Roman Syria?” Cam said, grinning.

“Yes, she led a famous revolt against the Roman Empire,” Eden added, stepping to Dev's side with a handkerchief, which she pressed to his sorely abused lip.

Ignoring James's snort of laughter, Dev glared at his siblings as best as he could over the white square of linen. He was well aware of what they were doing, but this time it wasn't going to work. Nothing was distracting him from telling Lilly what he thought. He was sure she'd taken years of his life tonight by getting involved in the fighting.

“Shut up, all of you!”

“Now, Dev, you've always lectured us on learning about famous women as well as men in history. Surely Zenobia falls into that category.”

“Cam, I will thrash you if you don't cease!”

“I had my fingers crossed!”

Spinning back from glaring at his siblings, Dev gently pushed his sister and her ministrations aside and looked at Lilly as she spoke. The wood was still clasped firmly in her hands and she looked small and fragile, a façade that no longer fooled him.

“What?”

“I had my fingers crossed when I promised you.”

Dev stared at her for several seconds—maybe the events of today were catching up with her, because she was making no sense. “What?” he said again.

“Oh, well then, that makes perfect sense,” Essie said, rushing forward to take the wood from Lilly and drop it to the ground.

“Yes, it's a code we Sinclairs have always lived by,” Eden said, moving to Lilly's other side.

“Eden,” James warned in that tone that told Dev he wanted her to shut up and stop interfering. As he was in full agreement, he followed it up with a glare.

“You crossed your fingers when you promised me you would leave?” Dev said as it finally dawned on him what the hell she was talking about. She didn't speak, just nodded. His sisters moved closer, pinning her between them.

“Excellent. Well, I'm glad that's sorted,” Cam said loudly.

“Nothing is sorted! For Christ's sake, when we cross our fingers on a promise it is over something trivial like raiding each other’s rooms and stealing belongings, not... not”—Dev had never been the type to fly into a rage, but it seemed tonight it was his destiny—”when your life is at stake!”

“I don't know, when Cam took Miss Pound Cake, I was devastated,” Eden said.

“She was a doll!”

Lilly's giggle sucked the anger right out of Dev. It was such a sweet, unrestrained sound, and all the sweeter because it came from a woman who had had very few reasons to giggle in her life.

“We need to get out of here,” Dev snapped, pointing to the hole in the wall and scowling. “Now!” he roared, which had his siblings scurrying forward, dragging Lilly with them. James, however, strolled. The Duke never scurried.

“Toby, you are coming with us too,” Dev said, looking to where the boy sat.

“I-I c-can't.”

Dev heard the pain and quickly crouched before him. He had one hand clutched to his side and when Dev pulled it away, he saw blood. “Why didn't you say something?” he said, picking him up and running to the opening.

“It hurts.”

It must have been bad if he said that because this stoic little boy was not one to make a fuss. Dev found his siblings in the carriage that had been outside the warehouse. James was driving, with Cam seated beside him. He hoped that between them they could get them home safely.

He climbed in with Toby in his arms and settled him on Lilly.

“What has happened?” Lilly cried.

Dev picked her up and held them both on his lap. “He's hurt. I don't know how badly, but we need to get to the Raven residence now.”

Dev heard Lilly's whisper as she talked to Toby on the journey to the Raven town house. Essie was kneeling on the floor before the boy, inspecting the injury as best she could given the circumstances.

No one spoke. All eyes were focused on the boy, and he could feel the fear in Lilly as she held him close. Toby lay against her, quiet and still.

“Cam, take Toby,” Dev said as the carriage stopped. He lifted Lilly to her feet and followed.

The house was well lit as they walked into the front entrance, yet like Dev, Lilly did not see her brother standing beside the butler until he stepped before her.

“Are you well, Lilliana?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

“Why?” she asked, and Dev could hear the confusion in her voice. Placing a hand on her back, he reassured her she was safe and he was there at her side.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“I—everything.”

“I don't know what game you are playing, Nicholas,” she said, “and why you look as you do, but I assure you I want you to leave here now and never return.”

Dev let her leave then, to follow Cam, who was carrying Toby up the stairs.

“She was hardly going to run into your arms, Nicholas.”

Dev stood silently beside James as he spoke, watching Lilly run up the stairs. He would follow soon, but had a few words to say to her brother first.

“At least she is safe, and for that I thank you.”

“I almost believe you mean that, cousin.”

“Surprisingly, I do,” Nicholas said quietly, looking from Dev to James. “She will not wed Danderfield. I will see to it in the morning.”

“Dare one ask about this transformation you seem to have undergone in the space of one evening?” James said, the skepticism clearly evident in this tone.

Nicholas didn't answer instantly, and Dev watched as he thought about his next words.

“I loved her once, you know, but things changed with my father's death.”

“The fact she was your sister never changed, Braithwaite,” Dev said. “And there is much you don't know about your sister, or what she does.”

“What?”

“The story is hers to tell, not mine.”

“Very well, I will speak with her tomorrow. And I would thank you for your harsh words; they have made me see just what I have become, Lord Sinclair.”

“Words will cost you nothing, Braithwaite,” Dev said, brushing past him. “Actions, however, now they are worth a great deal more.”

Dev helped Essie and Lilly clean Toby's wound. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, and the tension in the room grew with each breath he struggled to draw into his small body.

“There is so much blood,” Lilly whispered as she once again rinsed the cloth in the bowl, the water now red.

“Dev says the damage inside him is bad and that he is bleeding. Therefore, I must be honest, Lilly, it does not look good.”

Lilly's hands stilled as Essex spoke. “Please tell me he will live.”

“Essie will do everything she can and James has called for a doctor,” Dev reassured her.

Lilly looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “He can't die, Devon.”

“We won't know anything until he has been treated, Lilly, but for now, we have to stop the bleeding,” Essie soothed.

Dev let himself slide into his other vision. The boy was bleeding from the inside, and he could see his color was weaker, the yellow now almost cream. Unless they stopped that bleeding, Toby would die; he knew it, Essie knew it. Lilly, however, did not.

The doctor came, a ridiculously young-looking man who, as far as Lilly was concerned, did not have enough experience to make an accurate diagnosis. She looked over his shoulder as he checked Toby, and Dev could see the young man was intimidated.

“He has internal injuries I am afraid, and is losing too much blood. I fear the prognosis is not promising.”

“Well, then do something!”

Dev intervened as Lilly glared at the doctor, and he quickly pushed him from the room into James's hands outside.

After applying a paste to the wound and forcing several sips of herbal tea down Toby's throat, Essie left, muttering about needing a medical book she had in her room. Toby's breath had grown weak and his face was as white as the sheet he lay upon. Dev took the cup of warm tea and buttered crumpet off the tray, both of which Lilly had refused, and moved to her side.

“Eat this.”

“I couldn't,” she said, her eyes still on Toby, and Dev wondered where she got her strength. He was wilting and he hadn't been abducted, bound, and left in a small room with no nourishment for hours on end.

“You will eat this, Lilly, because you will need your strength to care for Toby. If you faint, then it will be me he sees when he opens his eyes, not you.”

She took the tea and gulped it down, then nibbled the crumpet. He wiped the corner of her mouth when she ate the last bite. The sob came from nowhere, and when she launched into his arms he caught her.

Chapter Eighteen

“T-tell me he will live, Dev.”

“I can't, sweetheart, you must understand that,” he said, running his hand over her hair.

She lay against him, looking at Toby. Dev lifted her hands, looking at her bloodied and torn gloves, and slowly took them from her fingers.

“Do you trust me, Lilly?”

“Yes.”

Amazing how one simple word could warm him to his toes. He kissed each finger because he knew she liked it, and was rewarded with a gentle sigh. Even exhausted, she responded to him as he knew she always would. Looking at her slender hands, he wondered if his hunch was accurate. It seemed now was the time to test his theory.

“Did you ever touch another person before you took to wearing gloves, and feel strange sensations, Lilly?”

She looked at him for several seconds and then slowly nodded. Lord, she was beautiful. Her hair was everywhere, her clothes dirty with bits torn here and there, yet he had never wanted another woman like he did Lilliana Braithwaite. He wanted to take her home with him and keep her safe, lock her away from anyone who would harm her, and that simply confirmed just how important she had become to him.

Only his family made him feel such emotions, yet now it seemed Lilly could too. Brushing his lips over hers, he kept the kiss light, and then turning to the bed he looked at the small boy lying motionless. Switching his vision, he could see Toby's color was now white, and Dev feared he did not have long to live. Essie had tried everything and was even now looking for something to save the boy, but Dev knew death better than most, and Toby was close. His breathing had grown shallow and he lay still in the big bed.

“Will you try something for me?” Dev said, once again taking Lilly's hand in his. “Just place your hands on Toby and tell me what you feel.” She didn't speak, just turned and laid one palm flat on Toby's forehead, the other on his chest. The boy twitched instantly and then calmed.

“What do you feel?”

“He's so cold, almost like he's—”

“No, Lilly, he's not dead,” Dev said, placing his hand over hers. If what he suspected was true and Lilly could heal with her hands, then maybe he could help her in some way, use his strength to support her.

“Now we're going to move your hand slowly down his arm.”

“I'm scared.”

“I know, love, but I'm here and I will keep you safe. You said you trusted me, remember.” She nodded as he moved as close to her as he could, his front now pressed to her back, and then cupping her hands with his, he began to run them over the boy. The heat from her hands made his tingle, the sensation not unbearable, but he could feel it traveling up his arms.

“Focus on your hands, Lilly. We are going to move closer to Toby's injury now.”

He kept his voice calm.

“I-it feels as if I am being stung by a thousand bees, Dev.”

“I have you, love, my hands are right there with yours,” he soothed as her body tensed.

He felt her hands get hotter as she reached the boy's injury. Beneath her fingers Toby grew restless and color filled his face as he began to murmur and thrash about in the bed.

“I-I... it's—”

“Are you in pain, Lilly?” She shook her head. “Tell me what you feel.”

“M-my hands feel hot, like I am being stung by stinging nettle, but my body is cold.”

“Pull your hands away if you can no longer stand it.”

“Am I.... Are my hands healing him?”

Dev was watching Toby's color to make sure his light didn't go out completely, and saw the yellow steadily grow brighter. The tension in Lilly's body worried him and he wondered what effect this would have on her. He could feel the tingling she spoke of beneath his fingers and the chill that was creeping into her body. Wrapping his hands around hers, he lifted them and saw the wound had healed significantly. There was only a cut that would easily heal.

“Dear God! He... it is nearly healed,” Lilly gasped.

Dev felt the boy’s head and checked his pulse, and then looked inside him and saw the bleeding had stopped. Toby was still sleeping but this time it was a healing sleep, and his color and breathing were strong. Lifting Lilly into his arms as her knees buckled, he walked around the bed and lowered her onto the other side, beside Toby. Her color was strong, yet he could see that in doing what she had for the boy she had used the last of her reserves and was now exhausted.

“Wh-what just happened?”

Framing her face, Dev kissed her again. “Do you want to discuss this now, or sleep?”

“Dissscusss.”

She was asleep before she finished the word. Dev watched her, taking in the long sweep of her lashes, the pallor of her cheeks. He loved her because she was his mate. The other half to him. He had the gift of sight and she touch. She was the piece that completed his family's circle. Dear Christ, he could hardly take it in.

Pulling the covers up, he tucked them both in. Toby slept, his face young and innocent, the woman beside him looking remarkably similar. Stroking a hand over her hair, he then gave her a last long look and left the room.

A maid waited outside the door, so Dev told her to have a room and bath prepared for Miss Braithwaite and one for him, and he would return soon to escort her.

“I have the herb here, Dev, and have instructed the kitchen to bring more boiling water.”

Dev took Essie's hands as she appeared before him, her face creased with worry. She stilled, looking up at him.

“No, Dev, please tell me Toby is alive!”

“Yes, he lives, and he is sleeping the sleep of a tired yet recovering young boy, Ess. Now I need you to come with me. I have something to tell you all, but I want to say it only once.”

“I-I don't understand.” She gripped his fingers.

“You will, love. Come.”

She let him lead her to where the others waited in James's study. Nicholas Braithwaite was the first to gain his feet as Essie and Dev entered.

“How are Lilliana and the boy doing, my lord?”

His lip was now puffy and purple and his hair stood on end, and at some stage, he had removed his jacket and necktie. He looked vastly different from the previously elegant and pampered Nicholas Braithwaite.

“I think the boy will make it through the night, and your sister has been taken to a chamber to sleep, as she was both exhausted and hungry,” Dev said, telling the lie as easily as he took his next breath.

Perhaps Braithwaite was changing, yet Dev was still not about to trust him completely and most especially not with both his family’s and Lilly's secrets.

“She asked me to request that you go home and tell your aunt you have received a letter from her stating she has left London briefly to visit one of your estates, as she is in need of fresh air.”

“But she has never done that before. Aunt will be suspicious.”

“Braithwaite, you are foisting a seventy-year-old reprobate on her, which I may add you had no issue with until this evening. Surely you can use that to your advantage when telling the tale.”

Dev had believed there were no similarities between Lilly and her brother, but the glare he got suggested they both had the same backbone.

“There is no need to keep reminding me I have neglected my sister, Sinclair. I will go home at once and tell our aunt. She will believe me, as she would have no reason not to,” Nicholas muttered as he prepared to take his leave. “I will return in the morning with some of Lilly's things. I hope one of your sisters will care for her until I return?”

“They will,” Dev said, pleased that at last the man seemed to be aware of his duty to his sister. “But remember this while you sleep, Braithwaite. Your sister will not forgive the years of neglect and abuse easily, and she will wonder at the abrupt change in you, as do we.”

Nicholas didn't say anything, just nodded.

“Be ready to beg, Braithwaite. With four sisters, this is the best advice I can give you.”

When the door had closed, Dev went to sit before the fire with the rest of his family.

“Eat now, Dev,” Eden said, handing him a plate, “and then tell us what's happening.”

“You probably heard most of it anyway,” he said around a mouthful of buttered toast.

“Most, but not all,” she said with a cheeky smile.

James frowned at her. “I thought you put your earplugs in when you returned?”

“James, James, James,” Cam said, shaking his head. “When will you learn not to believe her when she says that?

“You lied to me!” James roared, glaring at his wife, who looked totally unrepentant.

“Not lied, darling, exactly,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I had them in and then I took them out. Anyway,” she quickly added as James opened his mouth to continue the discussion, “we have much more pressing matters to discuss regarding Toby and your cousin.”

Dev realized this was his cue, so he took a large swallow of his brandy before beginning. “None of you have probably noticed, but Lilly always wears her gloves. I discussed it with her one night and she told me she had always worn them, since childhood.”

“That's true,” James added. “I used to question her on it when we were playing but she usually just fobbed me off.”

“Christ, she's one of us!”

Dev had known it would be Cam who worked it out first, and he wasn't disappointed. Essie followed seconds later. Eden of course, already knew.

“Good God!”

“Christ!”

“As you know, I don't like to hear those words coming from my sisters, but if ever there was a time they were acceptable, now is it,” Dev added.

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

Looking at James's bewildered expression, Dev laughed. For once the mighty Raven brain was not working.

“Lilly has sensitive hands, Raven.”

“So do a lot of people. One of my drivers is allergic to.... Mother of God!”

“Yes darling, your cousin has the heightened sense of touch, just as I have hearing, Cam smell, Essie taste, and Dev sight. She is the fifth and final sense, it seems. How strange that it was you who uncovered this, brother,” Eden said, giving Dev a pointed look that he ignored.

“She healed Toby tonight. It exhausted her and now she sleeps, but she did it.”

“How did you know, Dev?” Cam queried.

“I took off her glove one night. She rebelled, but I grabbed her hand, and she told me she had never touched anyone before without it causing her pain.”

“Like I cannot hear, James,” Eden said with a sly smile. “Love dulls the senses.”

Dev ignored her.

“Another one.” James groaned, falling back into his chair. “But how is it possible? Surely her blood tie to the Sinclairs is weak?”

“Apparently it's not,” Cam said, still looking stunned.

“She is also a very special lady with special colors meant for the strongest of us all,” Essie said, grinning at Dev, who in turn glared at her.

“For what it's worth, brother, I like her,” Cam said, taking the last piece of apple pie off the plate.

“Of course you like her, she's my bloody cousin!”

“As do we all,” Eden said, taking her husband's hand and giving it a hard squeeze as he opened his mouth again. It closed quickly.

“I will go and see her and have the maid take her to a room, Raven.” Dev got to his feet.

“I will do it!”

“No, you won't, James. Dev is more than capable.”

Leaving the room before another word was said, Dev made his way to Lilly's side. He was eager to see her, eager to know she was well. He loved her. The thought nearly dropped him to his knees. Another to love, another to care for. But this one would be different, he knew. This one was a part of him.

Chapter Nineteen

Lilly woke aware that she was in her cousin's house. She was relieved to find the room was lit by the glow from the fire. It was bad enough waking in her own room in the dark, but to do so in a strange house was terrifying.

She thought briefly about looking for Toby to check on his injuries, and then discarded the idea. James's house was huge with many rooms, and Lilly had visions of walking in on James and his family while they slept. She lifted her hands and studied them. Had they really healed Toby? How had Devon known she could do that?

He had told her, when she lay beside the boy, that he was sleeping peacefully. Could it be true? Her head hurt just thinking about it. How was it even possible for one person to heal another?

Pushing herself upright, she saw the bath not far from the bed, and the tray of food on the small table beside it. Throwing the covers aside, she tried to decide which she wanted more: food or cleanliness.

Both.

Standing, she felt her legs wobble. She felt weak after healing Toby, as if the action had taken all her strength.

“Did I really do that?” Lilly said to no one. Yet she knew it was not a dream.

She dragged the small table closer to the bath, then stripped off her dirty clothes, and removing what pins were left in her hair, she sank into the still blissfully warm water. After scrubbing her skin pink with the soap that smelled of lavender, she then washed her hair. Finally clean, Lilly lay back, exhausted, and reached for a piece of cheese. Popping it into her mouth, she let her thoughts return to the night's events.

As if being abducted had not been traumatic enough, now she had to think about what her hands had done to Toby. What did healing a person without medicine make her? Was she a witch or a freak who should reside in a circus? The cheese suddenly felt leaden in her empty stomach.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. His head appeared first, followed by his body. Devon stepped inside and looked to the bed, then turned toward the fire. His eyes held hers and then he simply closed and locked the door behind him.

He wore a robe, his dark hair damp, bruises forming on his face. He looked almost savage and lord, he looked wonderful.

“You.... We.... You shouldn't be in here, my lord.”

He didn't speak, just advanced, his eyes running over her face and down her body. Lilly could feel each place they landed. Heat seemed to be spreading through her with speed.

“You should leave, Devon.”

“I know,” he said, dropping to his knees before her.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Lilly whispered, and then she shuddered as he ran the tip of his finger from her shoulder to her fingers.

“Touching you,” he said, his eyes holding hers as his hand moved back up her arm and onto her chest. “Looking at you like this drives every rational thought from my head.”

“This is wrong. We shouldn't—” Lilly moaned as he reached her breasts.

“I will leave if you ask me to, Lilly.”

She couldn't; the words would not form in her throat.

“Are you finished eating?”

With her lip trapped between her teeth, Lilly could only nod.

“Excellent,” Dev said, rolling up the sleeves of his robe. He slipped his hands into the water beneath her. Lifting her out, he reached for the drying cloth.

Lilly felt color heat her cheeks as he held the cloth at his side and simply looked at her. “Please, Dev, I—”

“I have dreamt of you every night since that first kiss we shared, yet nothing could compare to this. You are perfection, every lush inch formed to drive me wild. Let me love you, Lilly.”

Lilly didn't speak; instead, she climbed to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me, Devon.”

Their lips met in a fevered joining. When one kiss finished, another started; they drank from each other. He ran his hands over Lilly's spine, the large palms mapping her body, then cupped her bottom, urging her closer.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She reached for him as he set her on the edge. Lilly's fingers shook as she released the tie at his waist and slid the robe from his body.

Lord, he was magnificent, the muscles on his shoulders, the strength of his forearms, the ridged planes of his stomach… what lay beneath. The jut of his arousal stood proud between braced thighs, and Lilly knew what would follow, yet she felt no fear. With one hand she traced the length of his broad chest, twirling her fingers in the sprinkling of hair and then moving lower to run her hand over his ribs. Her fingers tingled from the contact, the sensations traveling through her body.

“Your touch is beyond pleasure,” he rasped, closing his eyes as she moved lower.

“To touch freely….” Lilly closed her eyes briefly. “It has long been a dream of mine. To feel another's heat. The texture of skin, the feel of hair, the curve of a cheek.”

“I am yours to feel, Lilly, my love. Whenever you wish it.”

“Only you,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest. “Anyone else causes me pain, but not you.”

She found a scar beneath his belly button and leaning forward she placed her lips on the small line and was rewarded with another groan, his hand fisting in her hair.

“H-how did you get this?”

His eyes were brighter than any jewel; the green depths ablaze with sensual heat. “Cam stabbed me with his toy sword,” he said, tugging her hair and urging her upright. He once again joined their lips and Lilly could only feel. He kissed her neck and shoulders, each touch of his mouth an exquisite caress, and then licked his way down the slope of one breast and took her nipple. Lilly cried out her pleasure. He feasted on her as she writhed against him, heat pooling deep in her loins as he slowly heightened her pleasure.

“It is almost too much,” she whispered as sensations caught and held her.

“We can never hurt each other, Lilly. Let me touch you, let me show you what is between us.”

“It scares me how much I feel when you touch me,” Lilly said honestly.

“Because you have never been close with another person before?” He looked into her eyes.

Lilly nodded. “The emotion is so strong, Dev. I don't understand these feelings between us.”

“I feel no different, and given time you will understand what they mean as I do.”

Before Lilly could ask what he meant, he lowered his head to kiss her once more.

Searing heat built inside her as his hands traveled to her waist, and then lower. He touched the soft hair and then eased a finger between her thighs.

“Oh my,” Lilly whispered as she shuddered at the wonderful sensation.

“Just feel, love,” he urged, leaning forward to place his mouth on her breast. He slowly stroked her as he laved her breasts with kisses.

“The sensations, Dev.”

“Let go, Lilly.”

She did, her body arching back as she felt the powerful release consume her.

He eased her back onto the bed.

“Open for me, Lilly, let me make you mine.”

Lilly had never wanted anything more than to be possessed by Devonshire Sinclair. She let her legs fall open and felt him slowly enter her.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

His jaw was clenched and sweat glistened on his body. He looked like a fierce warrior. Her warrior, Lilly thought, and then she could think no more.

“Kiss me, Dev,” she whispered at the bite of pain as he sank deep inside her.

“You are mine now,” he breathed against her lips.

“Yes, and you are mine.”

Slowly withdrawing, he re-entered, and while there was pain, there was also pleasure, and then she felt it building again. That wave of pleasure she’d ridden just moments before. He was gentle, easing in and out of her slowly, the effort to hold back showing in his body.

“Let go, Dev,” Lilly whispered, and he thrust into her until they both found their release.

He lay beside her, breathless.

“T-Toby?” she whispered.

“Is healed,” he said, yawning as he moved them to lie on the pillows. Lilly kissed his chest and closed her eyes as he pulled up the blankets and in seconds she was slumbering, as was Devon.

Lilly woke to darkness. The fire was out, yet she felt no fear because beneath her cheek beat the heart of the man she now understood she loved. She felt no need to hurry as she usually did upon waking—in fact, her body felt the stirrings of need as he stretched beneath her. Last night had been a revelation to Lilly. Previously she had believed men used women to meet their own needs, and that the women gained nothing from the union, but now she knew better. His fingers skimmed her shoulder, and she felt like purring. To wake every day like this would be heaven.

“Do you want me to light a candle, Lilly?”

“No, I'm not afraid when I'm with you.”

His hands lifted her high for a slow lingering kiss, and then lowered her down beside him. He turned on his side to look at her.

“If you stay on top of me like that I will want you again and it will be too soon, love,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “We also need to talk, Lilly, and I need you to hear me out before you ask questions.”

“All right.”

Needing to touch him, Lilly placed her palm on his chest. He covered it with his own, twining their fingers and then lifting hers to his lips.

“Do you feel well this morning; any niggles of pain from your adventures yesterday?”

“I am well, Devon. Should we check on Toby?”

“He has someone sitting with him until we rise.”

They lay in silence for a while, and then he began to speak.

“My family is different.” He laughed as she snorted. “In more ways than one,” he added. “They have special senses like you.”

“I don't understand?”

“I need to tell you the entire story, Lilly, so bear with me.”

“All right.”

“Supposedly, hundreds of years ago one of our ancestors saved the Duke of Raven from certain death. It is believed by the Sinclairs that our gift was the result of this event.”

“By gift, you mean the special senses?” Lilly grappled to understand.

“Yes. The Sinclairs were given the job of protecting the Ravens for future generations, and it is also said that we were given our title as a gift by King Edward III in 1335 for our protection of the Ravens. Our land sits beneath Raven castle.”

“And have they... Sinclairs, I mean. Have they saved Ravens?”

“Yes, many of them. Both Eden and I saved James, and then I you.”

“Tell me of these senses you speak of?”

“I have the gift of sight, Cam has the heightened sense of smell, Essie taste, and Eden hearing. My younger siblings also have them.”

“It is almost beyond belief and yet I have to believe it, don't I, because I saved Toby. How is that possible, as I am not a Sinclair?”

Lilly closed her eyes as Devon traced the line of her brow.

“You are, actually. Someone from your family line, hundreds of years ago, was saved by a Sinclair. They had a liaison, and the child was raised a Raven.”

“If I read this tale I would not believe it,” Lilly whispered. “The fact that it is true is hard to grasp.”

“I know, but you will in time.”

“But I am not a true Raven either.”

“You carry their blood, Lilly. You are a Raven.”

“When did you find out I was James's cousin?” Lilly whispered.

“The day I saved you outside the Watch House.”

“And you were unhappy about what you learned, weren't you, Dev?”

“I was not unhappy about saving you, my love.”

Lilly accepted the kiss he brushed over her lips.

“You have to understand that my family has lived with a secret for many years, and supposedly we are what we are because of the Ravens, and yes, it came as a shock to know that the woman who unsettled me was one of them, but only because I did not see it coming.”

“I can see that would be unsettling,” Lilly conceded. It was certainly a great deal to take in, and had she learned of it even yesterday, she would have doubted his words, but after healing Toby, she did not.

“And you believe I have the heightened sense of touch?”

His hand traced her cheek, then moved to her neck. Lilly closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

“Yes. You healed Toby, love. We both saw it and I felt it through your hands.”

“It just seems so... so amazing and yet we are here in this room talking about it as if it were a common occurrence.”

“But it is for me, Lilly. I have lived with it since birth.”

“Tell me of your gift. What do you see?” Lilly questioned, intrigued.

“Everyone has a color. Cam is orange, Essie is pink, and Eden and James are blue. If you want to continue this conversation, madam, then stop moving.”

She hadn't realized she was wriggling closer to his body, eager to feel him against her. Lilly stilled at his harsh tone and then she felt it, the tension in his body and the hardness against her thigh. She had done that to him. Her, Lilliana Braithwaite. The knowledge was heady indeed, considering she had never produced so much as a smile in other men.

“These colors, what do they mean?” Lilly said. “Does it matter if a blue person is married to a green person, for example?”

“Ah, no.”

Lilly had the feeling he was reluctant to continue with the discussion.

“Devon?”

“Yes. It is my belief that a marriage is stronger if the couple has the same color. I have not done extensive studies to that end, but the few I have seen seem to be happier.”

Lilly touched his jaw, making him look at her. The green of his eyes was bright.

“What color are you?” she whispered, her breath brushing his lips.

“Green.”

“And me?”

He was silent for several seconds and then he said, “Green.”

“Are there lots of people like us?”

“I know of only two people.”

“You and I.”

It wasn't a question, just a quietly spoken statement.

“Yes.”

Lilly slowly mapped his face with her fingers, as she had that night when he had first removed her gloves.

“I love touching you, reading your face with my hands, finding each line and curve. It is as if my hands have been covered all these years just waiting until you came along.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed her fingers to his lips, shaking her head.

“No more, Devon. I don't want to talk of things that once we step outside this room we will have to confront. For now just let me touch you.”

He lay still as her hands touched his shoulders, each stroke building the smoldering embers of passion higher between them.

Lilly rose to her knees beside him, and then placing both hands on his chest, she learned the body of Devonshire Sinclair. She found that his breath hissed as she brushed his nipples, so she took her time there, and he moaned when she touched the planes of his stomach. Bending over him, Lilly placed small kisses on his skin while her hands ran up the sides of his ribs. Kissing the scar she had touched last night, she questioned him on its origins once more.

“If it was a toy sword, how has it left a scar?”

“He sharpened the end,” he rasped. Then his entire body clenched as she laughed, brushing hot air over his stomach.

“Lilllllly.”

Smiling at the groan, she took a deep breath and moved her hands lower, skimming her fingers up the length of his arousal, the skin smooth and silky beneath her fingers. His body went rigid and his breath came in harsh pants as she moved her hand up and down.

“Dear God, that is exquisite,” he gritted out. “But I fear I cannot take too much more.”

“I wanted to touch your legs, feel the hair with my fingers. I have much to make up for.”

“No more touching, shrew, it's my turn now.”

Lilly felt herself lifted, and then he had her flat on the bed and loomed over her. His hair was tousled, jaw shadowed, and she wondered at the emotion inside her, the ache deep in her chest that she had never felt before.

He nibbled her ear and kissed her lips and continued in that vein until he reached her breasts; once there, he pleasured her until she could think of nothing but him. Her fingers wrapped around the bedsheets and held on as he licked and kissed each one slowly, thoroughly, until she was moaning just as he had.

Lilly's stomach quivered as he reached there. She shivered as he circled her navel, and then his lips skimmed to the soft hair beneath, and then lower, to deliver the most intimate kiss of all. Shocked, Lilly grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Should you be.... Dear Lord!”

Devon trapped both her wrists in one hand as she tried to push him away and then he simply feasted on her, licking the soft folds and biting softly down on the hard little button between her thighs. Lilly gave up fighting him as he took her back there, to that wicked place where the tension built inside her. When she thought she could take no more, he stopped and braced himself above her.

“If you are sore, I will stop.”

“Don't stop,” Lilly whispered, holding his gaze as he slid inside her body. She was tender, but she wanted this, him.

He started moving, keeping his thrusts gentle, and Lilly felt the wave of sensual pleasure grip her body once more. She shuddered, as did he, and her last thought as they scaled the heights of passion was that it was too much. She felt far too much for this man, and that would surely lead to trouble.

Chapter Twenty

“I feel fine, Lilly, you don't need to keep touching my head.”

“I'm just checking you are not over warm, Toby,” Lilly said, removing her hand and fussing with the covers instead. She had on a pair of Eden's gloves that had appeared in her room, along with a clean set of clothing.

“Essex said I'm nearly well, just a few more days of rest and I'll be fine again. I was sure I was going to die, Lilly, felt like it anyway, and my wound looks like barely a scratch. Devon says it's all the fine living I've had. It's making me weak.”

“Very possibly.” Lilly didn't look at Toby. How could she when her hands had saved his life? She couldn't tell him, or anyone for that matter. Surely they would lock her away in Bedlam if the news came out.

No one would believe her anyway, and if they did she was sure they would want her to heal them. Shuddering, Lilly thought about the sensation she would create if anyone realized just what she could do.

“Do you want anything else? Food, drink? Or maybe a story?” Lilly said, giving Toby's head one more pat as he shook it. She stood silently beside his bed as his eyes grew heavy, and soon he was asleep, and she knew there was no longer any reason for her to stay in the room, yet she was reluctant to leave it.

She and Devon had fallen back to sleep after their.... Dear Lord, she was blushing just thinking of the things they had done to each other in her cousin's house. Unsettled, she wandered around the room. What would he expect from her now? Could they just resume their life as it had once been? Don't be a fool, Lilly. Devonshire Sinclair was a gentleman; he would never treat her so shabbily.

But if he offered for her, could she accept? Would he let her continue with her children, or try to stop her going to Temple Street? Would he try to control her? Did she want to marry him?

Yes.

Oh Lord, she had complicated the entire situation by falling in love with Devon and then making love to him. She did love him, and that was a revelation, because Lilly had thought herself incapable of the emotion.

But if she wed him then surely it would be better for her, as he too had heightened senses, and would understand what she was capable of.

Knowing she could not stay in this room indefinitely she gave Toby a final look to check he still slumbered, before quietly slipping out the door.

“Good morning, Miss Braithwaite. My name is Buttles, and if you will follow me I will escort you to the breakfast parlor.”

Lilly gave an unladylike squeal as the butler appeared suddenly before her. “I-I did not hear you, sir.”

“Please forgive me, Miss Braithwaite, I have been told I am very light-footed.”

“Surely an excellent thing if you are a butler.” Lilly fell in behind the very straight back of Buttles.

She took the time to steady her nerves and look around her cousin's home. She saw touches of Eden everywhere in the flowers and furnishings. Dark paneling was complemented with pale walls and lovely paintings. Rich carpets muffled her footsteps.

“It is a very nice home, Buttles.”

“The Duchess has an eye for color, Miss Braithwaite, and with help from Lady Samantha and Miss Emily, she has brought the house to life once more.”

Lilly smiled. It was nice to hear how proud he was of both the house and the family who resided in it, and again it made her feel sad that such warmth and love did not fill her brother's house.

The hum of voices told her they had reached their destination.

“Thank you, Buttles, I will be fine now.”

“Very well, Miss Braithwaite.”

Lilly watched the butler leave. Running her hands down the skirts of the dress Eden had lent her, she hoped she could get through the next few minutes without making a fool of herself. Rubbing her forehead, she wondered briefly if the words Scarlet Woman were written all over it, because surely if she so much as glanced Devon's way everyone would know what lay between them. Dear Lord, imagine if he saw it too, saw with his sharp eyes the love she felt for him. Perhaps she should simply leave, without anyone realizing? Yes. Lilly turned; she would—

“And where are you going? The breakfast room is this way, Lilly.”

When she turned back, she found Devon now standing in the doorway.

“I, ah, I thought to....”

“Leave?”

The bruise on his jaw looked angry this morning.

“No, I had—Yes, I was going to leave.”

“Why?”

He didn't touch her, and for that she was grateful. He destroyed her concentration.

“I feel like everything has changed now, as if I have lost control and don't know how to regain it.”

“I will help you if you'll let me.”

“I'm not sure how to do that, don't you see?”

He moved closer, and Lilly fought the urge to retreat.

“I don't, actually.” He touched her cheek. “You're not alone now, sweetheart. We will work it out between us.”

Shaking her head, Lilly tried to dislodge his hand from her face, but it simply slipped to her shoulders. “Please, Devon.”

“Please Devon, what?” he said, pulling her slowly toward him.

“I must learn how to deal with all of this now. There is so much to take in. Plus, those children are still missing and I must find out who has taken them—”

“You will not be doing that alone, Lilly. I need your assurance on that.”

“I am no fool.”

“If that were true, why did you go to Lady Jane Street when you knew that note was not from Toby?”

“I had to.”

“No, you didn't. It would have been a simple task to send me word of where you were heading.”

“I am not used to consulting others about my actions.”

“However, you will get used to it,” he said, giving her a final tug so she fell against him. “And I won't let you run from me now, not after last night.”

“There is so much to take in,” Lilly whispered again. “What you told me and what I have learned about myself—”

“May I enquire what is going on in my hallway?” James drawled, appearing behind Devon.

“Your cousin was about to run away, and I was attempting to dissuade her.”

“Was she just. We cannot have that,” James added. “There is now danger out there for you, Lilly. You will be running nowhere. Measures need be taken to keep you safe.” He ignored Lilly's scowl. “Bring her into the breakfast room, Sinclair. We need to talk.”

“And I have no say in the matter?” Lilly said loudly.

“None,” both men replied.

Devon led her into the room behind James. Around the table sat Eden and two others; Lilly guessed they were her cousins.

“Samantha, Emily, this is your cousin Lilly,” James said.

“Hello, Lilly,” the youngest said. She was blonde and blue-eyed with ringlets with a big floppy yellow bow tied in her hair.

“Hello, Miss Braithwaite.” Lilly knew with just a glance that Emily was not quite as comfortable in this setting as her younger sister. She remembered James telling her she was his half sister, the bastard child of his father. She was thin—too thin, Lilly thought, looking at her wrists, and her gray eyes looked weary as they looked from James to Eden and then back to Lilly.

“Please call me Lilly, Emily, especially as we are family.” The girl nodded, yet remained silent, once again lowering her eyes to her plate.

Yielding to the pressure on her arm, Lilly fell into the chair Devon directed her to. “There is no need to use force, my lord. A simple, ‘have a seat,’ would have sufficed.”

“Of course it would, and that's why you were running out the front door like a scared rabbit,” he said, moving to the sideboard.

Lilly watched as he loaded two plates. He then returned, lowering one before her and placing the other in front of the seat to her left.

“Be a good girl, Lilly, and eat now. Talk later,” James said.

“Yes, do as your cousin says,” Devon added.

She was not usually rebellious, as it got her nowhere with her brother. But call it tiredness, or uncertainty. The last few days were obviously taking their toll on her sanity, as Lilly poked out her tongue—and instantly regretted it as Samantha clapped and giggled. Eden hooted with laughter and even Emily made a small snuffling sound.

“Lord save me from impertinent females.” James winked at his sisters as he spoke, and then grabbing his wife's chin, he kissed her loudly on the mouth.

Lilly’s jaw dropped at the display of emotion. She had always believed James was like her, someone who kept their emotions firmly in check at all times.

“Eat, cousin.” James gave her a gentle smile of understanding.

“I visited Toby this morning, Lilly. He said he would teach me to use a slingshot.”

“Not until he is stronger, Samantha,” James said, which again surprised Lilly, as surely Toby was not fit company for the sister of a duke, not to mention that a slingshot was hardly ladylike.

“When will he be stronger, James?”

“When he is.”

“What sort of answer is that, husband?” Eden said.

“The only one she's getting until we are sure he is healed.”

“One more sleep, Samantha, and he should be fine,” Dev said.

Lilly felt his fingers brush hers as he reached for his cup, and hated her betraying shiver.

“You will not fire a slingshot inside these walls, Samantha. There will be a target set up out in the gardens for you. Furthermore, Buttles will not be used for practice.”

“Yes, James,” Samantha said, looking sincere. However, Lilly wasn't so sure; the child had a look in her eyes she had seen in the children she knew a time or two.

“It appears we are in time to partake of breakfast. Excellent, I am famished.”

Lilly watched Cambridge and Essex Sinclair walk into the room. Essex took the seat to Lilly's right, while Cambridge wandered to the sideboard to raise the lids and sniff. Now that Lilly knew about his nose she understood why, although he did look remarkably like a hound.

“I suppose he just had a full breakfast less than an hour ago,” Eden said, looking at her sister.

“Of course,” Essie said, pouring tea.

“Hollow legs,” Dev grunted.

“Another stunning dress, Emily. I shall sit here and bask in your beauty,” Cam said, taking the seat beside James's sister.

“If my dress does not meet your high standards, sir, it is of no concern to me. Furthermore, you should have a care not to poke out your eyes with those ridiculously high points should you turn too quickly.”

“They are always like this,” Dev said in Lilly's ear, as she studied the previously quiet girl and Cam. “From their first meeting they have antagonized each other, and while initially James and I tried to stop them squabbling, he now leaves them to it, as it is the only time Emily appears to come out of her shell.”

Lilly turned to face Devon before she spoke. “It must be hard for her though, don't you think?”

“Hard in what way?”

His eyes really were startling, green with gold flecks, and they appeared so alive, almost sparkling. “Living this life, knowing—”

“None of us care about Emily's birth, Lilly. She is now just one of us, as are Samantha and James.”

Lilly thought about that as Emily and Cam continued to argue. To love unconditionally as these people obviously did was a rare thing indeed.

“I wear them when I know I am meeting you, Emily. I use them to shield me from your rapier tongue,” Cam said with his mouth full of food.

“You have the manners of a barnyard animal!”

Even Emily's lips twitched as Cam neighed like a horse.

Lilly didn't see the communication, but she was sure there was one between Emily and James, because seconds later she left, taking Samantha with her and leaving Lilly to face the Sinclair/Raven clan. Lord, they were a terrifying group. So vibrant and alive, they made her feel... well, gray and dull.

“As you all know, Lilly healed Toby last night,” Devon said, and Lilly felt the jolt of his words. Looking around the table she saw no censure, only understanding, and some of the tension left her body.

“We also know after last night that someone is trying to harm her, and it is the belief of both James and I that this is due to her investigations into the missing children.”

“You did not tell me you had come to that conclusion.” Lilly looked from Dev to James. “Furthermore, perhaps you should talk to me about these matters before announcing them.”

“Toby told us of this man called Dominus and what he believes he is about.”

“Yes, I knew of him,” Lilly said.

“And yet you did not tell me?”

The dark raised brow indicated Devon was not happy.

“I'm not sure why I would, when at the time we were barely speaking to each other.”

“Bravo,” Eden clapped her hands. “We have an ally, Essie dear. It seems Lilly too will stand up to these dictators should it be required.”

Lilly watched James and Devon sigh.

“We are merely trying to ascertain what is the next step, wife,” James said.

“Excellent, and of course we shall help you with those steps.”

“Obviously,” he drawled.

Lilly felt Dev's fingers stroke the outside of her thigh, and the resulting heat that washed through her made her cheeks flush.

“Lord Braithwaite wishes to speak to Miss Braithwaite, your Grace,” Buttles announced from the doorway.

“Unhand my sister, Sinclair!”

Lilly turned to watch her brother storm into the room; his eyes focused on Devon's hand beneath the table.

“A little late to play the role of big brother, don't you think, Braithwaite?” Devon drawled from beside her.

“Nicholas, why are you here? I told you last night not to return.” Lilly got to her feet to face her brother.

“Why was he touching you?”

She could hardly believe his words. He had cared nothing for her, ever, and now he was the outraged older brother. If she could dredge up a laugh, she would have done so.

“Enough, Nicholas. Unlike you, these people actually care about me and I will not have you coming into our cousin's house and behaving in such a manner. Now leave.”

“I will not leave! Someone must protect your honor.”

“Protect my honor? Where was this protection when you wished to wed me to a man old enough to be my grandfather? Go away, Nicholas. I will be home when I am ready. Tell Aunt Vi not to worry. I am well.”

Lilly looked at Devon as he came to stand at her right. James then moved to her left. It was a show of support and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“I have no wish to discuss this here in front of these people. Come, Lilliana, we will leave at once.”

“She is going nowhere with you, Braithwaite. You had your chance to look after her and failed,” Devon growled.

“My office, I think,” James said, leading the way. “Move, Nicholas,” he ordered, and her brother surprisingly did as he asked. “I think we need to clear a few things up before anyone leaves this house.”

“What are we clearing up?” Lilly said, running to keep up with the long strides of the men, who were stalking down the hall before her. No one answered her. Devon, however, stopped, took her hand in his, and led her into James's study.

“Do you trust me?” he said, lowering Lilly into a seat and bracing his arms on either side to look at her.

“I-I, of course.” And she did, Lilly realized, and not because of what had happened between them. She knew that to the toes of his large feet, he could be trusted. He would lay his life down for his family, and she had the feeling he would do the same now for her. It was a humbling thought.

“And I will treasure that gift always, my sweet,” he said, straightening. “Just remember those words.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Had Dev his way, he would have left Lilly with his sisters, and yet he knew she would never have allowed that. She sat, hands folded in her lap, appearing calm on the outside. But he knew her now; she was anything but calm. Her lovely eyes were moving between the three men constantly.

James sat behind his desk, Lilly across from him. Dev paced instead of doing as he wanted: punching Nicholas Braithwaite. Lilly's brother also stood.

After last night, his need for this woman had, if possible, grown. Just looking at her twisted his insides. She looked delicate this morning, her eyes haunted, face fatigued. She wasn't delicate, however. She was strong and resilient.

He'd made love to her last night because he could not resist her. She was a fire inside him now, a part of him. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe. Lilly, of course, would never allow that. She had been protecting herself for some time.

“Firstly, I want to know why you contemplated marrying Lilly to Danderfield. Is it, as Dev suspected, because you need money?”

Devon was pleased to see that at least Nicholas did not lower his eyes when James spoke.

“To my shame, yes, that is the truth.”

James gritted his teeth.

“That is unpardonable, Nicholas. How could you treat your own blood that way? Your parents were good people. You have no excuse for your behavior.”

“I know my behavior has been reprehensible, but I want to change... will change.”

“Yes, well, we’ll deal with your behavior and subsequent debts later. Now is not that time.”

Nicholas Braithwaite's lip was swollen from Dev's fist yesterday, and he looked different; his eyes had lost their insolence. Today he, like his sister, looked young and uncertain, but Dev had no intention of feeling anything but anger for the man.

“I have made this mess I now stand in. I will deal with it, and my debts.”

“Very noble, I am sure, cousin, but I will not let you fall on your sword when both your sister and aunt rely on you, and you have your parents’ reputations to uphold.”

“One thing has come clear to me, Braithwaite.” Dev entered the conversation, as standing in silence and letting another speak for him had never been something he was comfortable with. “Your sister's life is in danger, and living with you she has no protection. Therefore, she will move in here with James and between us, we will keep her safe.”

“I understand the gravity of what has occurred, Devon,” Lilly said. “I am of course indebted to you all for saving me, but I am sure that as long as I now exercise caution, I will remain safe living in my family home.”

“No you will not, now please be quiet, Lilly, while we discuss this matter further,” Dev said.

“No, I will not be quiet, damn you! Do not speak of me as if I am not seated right here several feet from you.”

“Lilly!” her brother said in shocked tones, which told Dev that Nicholas knew nothing about his sister. She was outspoken when required, and used several curses, also if required, to prove her point.

She spun to her brother. “Don't you dare censure me for using the word damn when you have used that and worse in my presence. You are a drunkard, gambler, and whoring wastrel. At least I can lay claim to doing something worthy with my life.”

Had she sprouted wings and flown across the room, the effect on her brother wouldn’t have been greater.

“I-I know my past behavior has been wrong,” Nicholas said slowly, as he looked at Lilly as one would a fire-breathing dragon. “Yet, I ask that you allow me to make amends.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I want nothing from you.”

“Me, however,” Dev said, moving to her side and placing a hand on her shoulder, “she will wed, and I will ensure she is loved, protected, and safe, Braithwaite.”

He felt the tension beneath his hand.

“No, I will not marry you.”

Yes, you bloody will.

Dev was about to open his mouth when he looked at James, who shook his head. He was right, of course; this was not the forum to pursue the matter of their futures, and seeing the firm set of Lilly's jaw, he wished he had held his tongue and spoken to her first. She made him lose reason, which while understandable considering how he felt about her, was not a practice he should continue. The problem was, he wanted her bound to him so tight she could never leave.

“I do not know what has happened or why she was abducted, yet when I am furnished with all the facts, I will change everything from this day forth. She will be protected, and I will ensure she feels no pressure to wed. She will not be forced, Sinclair,” Nicholas Braithwaite declared.

“Why would you do that?” Lilly questioned. “What gain is there in any of this for you, Nicholas? I am trying to understand your motivation.”

“Before you answer that, Braithwaite, perhaps you should beg your sister's forgiveness for her treatment at your hands over the last few years,” Dev said.

“I want no apology from you simply because you are intimidated by James and Devon, Nicholas.” Lilly regained her feet. She had a feeling she needed to stand tall to deal with what was about to unfold.

Her brother seemed different today. His face had lost that arrogant expression it perpetually wore. Yet Lilly knew him well enough to know he could play any part should he need to.

“I understand you do not trust my words, Lilliana, but in this Lord Sinclair is correct. I do need to beg your forgiveness, but I will not do it here.”

“You know nothing about me, Nicholas. You know not what I do from one day to the next. You cannot simply apologize to me and expect everything to be all right.”

“I know that too, and hope you will tell me what I do not know about you. Tell me the things I have missed out on in your life.”

Lilly's laugh held no humor. “Believe me, brother, you will not support them, but be warned you will not change the direction I have taken, nor will you get my money if that is still your agenda.”

“I do not want Grandmother's money, Lilliana.”

She almost believed him, but not quite. Not yet.

“I don't believe you, Nicholas.”

He looked sad.

“I did not expect you to do so immediately, but hope in time you will see that I want to change.”

James rose from his seat and stepped to Lilly's side and held out a hand. The gesture surprised her, as neither of them liked to touch or be touched. She placed her fingers in his, and let him lead her across the room until they were alone and the others could not hear.

“I know that like your brother I have given you no reason to trust me, Lilly, yet I would ask that you try.”

She nodded, but remained silent.

“I know what it is you do with the children, just as I now know about your house in Temple Street.”

“Sinclairs cannot keep secrets,” Lilly said.

His smile was gentle.

“Actually they can, but only if they believe they need to be kept. If they believe that in the telling, the words will help, they will do so without hesitation. In this, my brother-in-law was right, Lilly. You are my cousin, and I have neglected you for long enough. I want to be more involved in your life.”

“I do not expect society to care about what I do. They will look on it as my charitable works. But I had no wish for my brother to know. Appearances were everything to him, and that is why I have kept my life a secret.”

“Is that why you dressed and acted as you did also?”

She nodded. “I had no wish to wed, and Grandmother's will stated that if I reached twenty-six years still unmarried, then I could get the full amount she left me, and set up house on my own.”

“Ah, it all makes sense now. I must admit to wondering what had become of you. How you had changed so much from the intelligent child you were to the simpering, brainless, badly dressed woman I saw in society.”

“People see what they want, and once I had established the facade, no one questioned it.”

“Not even your brother.”

Lilly looked at Nicholas, who was watching her, and then her gaze moved to Devon, who was doing the same.

“I had not planned to wed, James. My life was to be my children.”

“But you care for Devon, Lilly. I can see that.”

She could not lie. “I do, but that scares me.”

“As it did me, cousin, when Eden stormed into my life. I was terrified when she began to tear down the walls I had placed around myself, the barriers I had erected because of my father.”

Lilly nodded, knowing she had built those barriers also.

“But love is worth the risk, Lilly. You and I were only living a half life before these Sinclairs stormed our defenses and made us feel.”

“It hurts to feel.”

“But to not feel is not living, cousin. So now I must ask if you love my brother-in-law.”

Lilly didn't miss the significance of the word brother-in-law. James was telling her he counted the man as family.

“With all my heart,” she said, looking at him.

“Then we shall make it happen,” James hugged her briefly.

“I feel as if I no longer have control over my life, James. For so long I knew the direction I was taking, yet lately....”

James laughed as he guided her back to the two men who waited silently across the room. “Yes, at first it is like being on a runaway carriage with no means of getting off. The Sinclairs are a protective lot, Lilly, who encompass you, but in time you will learn to like the feeling.”

“Like you do?”

“Like I do,” James acknowledged. “But I would ask you never to repeat that to any of them.”

Lilly sighed. “I am unsure how to let go of the control, James, as for so long it is what kept me going.”

“You need not let go of the control, Lilly. Just relax the reins slightly and the rest will fall into place. You will see.” He hugged her once more and she rested against him, enjoying the steady beat of his heart. She felt a small kernel of warmth that he was in her life now, that if she needed him, he would be there for her.

“Remember that I am always here for you now, Lilly. I am not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she whispered when he released her.

“Lilliana, I need to talk to you.”

Nicholas sounded urgent, and Lilly knew that if she was to return home with him, then yes, she should at least talk to him. Especially if he was going to try to change.

“Please let me speak to my brother alone.”

Devon didn't want to leave her with Nicholas; Lilly saw that.

“Let me talk with him, Devon. I promise to call for you if I need you.” Lilly touched a finger to his chin, which she could see surprised him. She was not someone who did such things with others watching.

He nodded, glared at Nicholas, and then accompanied James from the room. No doubt to stand outside the door and listen.

She stood four feet away from her brother, looking at the man who should have been so important to her, and once had been, until she realized the person he truly was.

“What happened to your lip?” Lilly asked when the silence grew uncomfortable. She could not remember the last time she had conversed with Nicholas; usually he talked at her.

“Your dark lord pointed out the error of my ways.”

Lilly could do nothing to stop the small smile at his description of Devon. He would protect her, even when she did not want him to do so.

“I lay in my bed last night reliving our lives since our parents passed. Each memory that came and went shamed me. My treatment of you is unforgivable. I'm not sure when it started, or why—”

“They were not bad years, Nicholas, just lonely ones.” Lilly decided that only honesty would do now.

“Christ, you must loathe me.” His words were hoarse. “I could find no sleep last night thinking of what I had become and how I treated you. And then I wondered how to ask your forgiveness when I know if I were in your situation, I would never give it.”

Lilly thought she saw honesty, but many years of division lay between them.

“I am having trouble believing that you would change suddenly, Nicholas. Why now? It makes no sense.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I don't know why now. Perhaps it took Sinclair to point out the error of my ways. Aunt Vi told me last night when I spoke with her about you that she was ashamed of the person I had become, but she was never brave enough to stand up to me.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I became a bully in the eyes of the two people I should love most.”

“Words, Nicholas,” Lilly whispered. “These are just words to me, which I struggle to believe.”

“When you were born I was instantly enamored. In fact, for the first year I would visit you and carry you everywhere, and I would beg your nurse to let me hold you.”

He took one of her hands in his and gripped it tight. Lilly thankfully had on her gloves, as she did not want to touch anyone but Devon. Perhaps one day soon she would try with someone else she cared for, but not yet, and especially not her brother.

“I loved you very much, but as the years passed I had forgotten that.”

“Perhaps I did not make it easy for you,” Lilly conceded. “I dressed as I did, and wore the glasses and behaved in that silly manner, so I would reach twenty-six unwed.”

The shock on his face was genuine.

“Did you really? Strange how I did not see what you were doing.”

“You saw nothing but yourself,” Lilly said, pulling her hand free and walking to the window. “And my fear was that you would force me to marry, when I had no wish to.”

“Will you tell me about yourself, Lilly? What you have become, and about the abduction? I have a feeling you know why you were taken.”

She did, because she wanted nothing to lie unsaid between them anymore. He could no longer hurt her; James and Devon would see to that. She was free to speak to this man as she wished.

“I had no idea. How have you kept this from me?” He looked shocked at her revelations. “You purchased this house in Temple Street alone?”

“You showed no interest in me, Nicholas. Therefore, it was easy for you to believe what you wished and not see what was really happening.”

“I can see that now, and am ashamed of what I have become. But that is my burden, not yours. Now I need you to tell me if it is your wish to marry Sinclair, as I will not consent to the match otherwise.”

“Yes, I wish it with all my heart.” Saying the words out loud confirmed what she thought. It was a step she was scared to take, but Lilly knew that being parted from Devon was not an option.

“Then I shall honor your wishes, sister,” he said, leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “Will you return home with me now?”

Lilly shook her head. “I will be there later today. Please tell Aunt Vi I shall take my evening meal with her.”

“And I shall be there also.”

He rarely ate with them.

“Of course, if that is your wish.”

He looked at her for long seconds. Lilly wondered if it was the first time he had really seen her. Shaking his head, he bowed deeply and left the room.

Lilly heard the murmur of voices outside the door and then Devon opened and closed it behind him. She heard his footsteps as he moved to her side, where she still stood at the window, looking at the garden below.

“Are you all right, Lilly?”

“So much has happened.” Lilly faced him, let her palm rest on his chest. The strength in this man calmed her.

“You have been abducted. You healed with your hands.” Lilly closed her eyes as he cupped her cheek. “And I'm sure what just transpired between you and your brother was not comfortable.”

“I just don't know if I should believe him.”

“We will deal with it together, love.”

Lilly sighed as he kissed her softly. She then rested her cheek on his chest. It was a wonderful place to be, safe and secure in his arms. She had capitulated, she realized. She had given herself completely to this man.

“I love you, Devonshire Sinclair, and yes, I will marry you.”

She was lifted then, high in the air, and twirled. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered her down his body, his arms holding her tight.

“You will not regret it, my love.”

“I'm sure I will,” she said, smiling down into his face. “Yet, I doubt I can live without you now.”

“I know I cannot live without you,” he said gently.

“I am used to being alone, Dev, but now... now I no longer wish for that. In the space of a few days, I want to be part of this, part of your family.”

“Our family,” he amended. “I will call upon your brother tomorrow.”

“I need you to understand something, Devon.” Lilly tried to sort through the words that she wanted to say.

“Tell me then, and I will try.”

“My children, the house in Temple Street, I will not give them up.”

He cupped her face, lifting it so they looked at each other.

“I would never ask you to, but what I would ask is that you let me help you with them.”

She nodded, daring to believe that he actually meant those words.

“Trust me.”

“I do.” She raised her chin for the brief kiss he brushed over her lips. “I am going home this afternoon, Devon, and in this I will stand firm. I need to see Aunt Vi, and it is not right for me to stay here.”

His expression darkened, and she knew this was the first of many battles they would wage.

“I want you safe.”

“And I will be. I will take no more risks, and go nowhere without alerting you or James if I believe there is danger involved.”

“And that is supposed to appease me?” He was scowling now.

She kissed him this time, softly, their lips lingering.

“I won't let you go now, Lilly. You are mine forever.”

“I-I don't want you to let me go... ever.”

“Do you know what my first thought was when those men abducted me?”

He led her to a chair, then sat and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Tell me.”

“I wanted you. I had never turned to anyone before, but at that moment I needed you so much.”

“And that scares you?”

“Yes, it scares me because I don't like to rely on people anymore.”

“You can rely on me, Lilly, because I will try to never willingly let you down. There may be times when I make you angry because I can be a bit overprotective and.... Did you just snort?”

She smiled. “A bit overprotective?”

“I am the head of my family now, love. It is not always an easy job keeping them all safe.”

Lilly brushed the pad of her thumb over his lips. “And yet you have, Dev. And now I will keep you safe and help you chase away those demons that you keep locked inside you.”

She watched the unease gather in his eyes as his body stiffened.

“What do you know of my demons?”

“I know you carry the pain of every soldier who died while they fought beside you, and I know that any pain your family suffered, you blame yourself for not shielding them from.”

“I believe you said I thought I was a god?”

She smiled. “It is not a fault to put others before you, Devon. But you cannot blame yourself for things that are not in your control. You are a protector, it is in your nature, I understand that, and it will be my job to ensure you do not take the role too seriously.”

“I do have demons, love, it comes with my nurturing nature, so my mother always told me,” he said with a wry smile. “Our father was not a good man, and I did not realize how bad he was until he died, yet part of me still worries that I should have known what he was doing—”

“No, Dev.” Lilly pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know you will tell me what he did when you are ready, but I also know that you are the most honorable, wonderful man I have ever known and that you did everything you possibly could to make your siblings happy and that is enough. Now, take some of your own advice and leave the past behind you.”

Resting his forehead on hers, he said, “How have I lived without you for so long? I love you, Lilliana Braithwaite, more than I ever believed possible.”

“And will you let me share your burdens?”

“I will.”

“I love you, Devonshire Sinclair.”

He kissed her, a thorough meeting of lips that Lilly felt to her toes. Slowly the flames of passion licked at her as he deepened the contact. She needed this man so much it terrified her. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him back.

“We have to stop, Lilly,” Dev groaned, pulling back.

“Why?”

“Because if this continues I will throw you on top of your cousin's desk and ravish you, and it is too soon. Not to mention that it is your cousin's desk.”

Lilly looked at James's desk and nodded.

“Perhaps that would not be wise.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Hello, Lilly.”

“Hello, Samantha, you look very pretty today.” Lilly had arrived to visit with Eden, but the woman had been delayed as she was tending to a staff member who had fallen ill. Lilly had decided to sit in the library with a tray of tea and wait for her.

Samantha was dressed in pink with ruffles and frills where young girls should have ruffles and frills, and with a matching band in her hair. Lilly marveled at the resilience the child showed. Like James, Samantha had been raised by a tyrant, and yet showed no signs of it.

“Emily and I are about to go to the park. We are taking Mr. Whiskers for a walk, and wondered if you would like to come?”

“Mr. Whiskers?”

“My dog,” the girl said, smiling, which showed her little white teeth. “He spends most of his time with me, so you have probably not met him yet. James does not like him to run everywhere because he still chews and does naughty things, so I only let him loose when he's out.” The last was said with a cheeky smile which Lilly felt herself responding to. “We call him Whisky most of the time, which James says suits him as he forces him to drink when he has chewed another of his neckties.”

Two weeks had passed since Lilly had returned to her house after the abduction, and every day when she woke, it was to find her brother had indeed changed. He now shared his meals with her and Aunt Vi, and a great deal of his time. The household was happier, and for that Lilly could not fault him. He had also allowed James to help him with his debts, but had said he would be repaying every cent.

For the first time in many years, Lilly was happy, and it was a wonderful feeling.

“James said a notice appeared in the papers announcing your betrothal to Devon yesterday, Lilly. Dorrie and Somer are excited that they get to be bridesmaids again.”

“Yes, I believe they want pink dresses.”

“I enjoyed being James's bridesmaid and everyone said that three little girls looked better than two.”

“Did they now?” Lilly was not fooled by the winsome expression on Samantha's face.”

“Yes, and we were so very well-behaved, unlike Warwick.”

“What did Warwick do?”

Placing both hands on her hips, the girl narrowed her eyes, making her look like a ferocious pixie. “He tied the laces of my pretty blue boots together so I fell on my face in front of all the guests.”

Lilly pressed her lips together to stop from laughing. “What did you do to him?” she asked, knowing there would have been retribution.

“Dorrie kept him talking while I sprinkled some of Essie's herbs that Somer got me on his meal. He had a troubled tummy for two days after.”

“Oooh, you're clever,” Lilly said in awe.

“What color are they going to wear?”

“Who?” Lilly blinked at the change in conversation.

“Your bridesmaids.”

“I believe I have already mentioned they will be in pink.”

“That's my favorite color.”

Lilly laughed. “Would you do me the honor, Lady Samantha, of becoming one of my bridesmaids?”

“Yes!” Samantha squealed, throwing herself at Lilly. “Will you come for a walk with me and Emily now, while Eden tends the sick person?”

“If you wish for me to accompany you, then yes, I should love to go walking with you both.”

“We shall meet you in the entranceway in five minutes.”

Samantha then left as quickly as she had arrived, so Lilly drank her tea, and then found her bonnet and gloves. After slipping them on, she went to find the girls.

“Is anyone down there, Lilly?”

“Pardon?” Lilly looked to the top of the stairs, where Samantha peeked over the banister. Emily stood behind her, carrying a small, white scruffy dog with lopsided ears and a spectacular set of whiskers.

“Is anyone waiting in the entranceway, Lilly?”

“Ah, no, not that I can see.” Lilly looked around.

“Quick, Emily, there is no one about!”

“Samantha, we will be caught one day, and I'm not sure we should. Imagine if we fall the other way. It is a very long drop,” Emily said, looking anxious.

“Emily, we go through this every time we do it, and after the first attempt it is you who wants to do it again.”

Lilly made her way up the stairs, wondering what was going on. When she arrived, Mr. Whiskers’s lead was handed to her by an anxious-faced Emily.

“If you could hold him please, Lilly.”

She then watched as Emily and Samantha climbed onto the railing.

“Good Lord!” Fascinated, she watched as the very proper and shy Emily flew down the banister behind her sister, both making gleeful noises as they went. Lilly held her breath as they reached the bottom and flew off the end to land nimbly on their feet. Giggling, they both picked up their skirts and ran back up the stairs.

“Just drop his lead, Lilly, and he will follow us down if you wish to try also,” Samantha panted as she reached the top.

“Yes, do try, Lilly, it is so much fun,” Emily said, her smile transforming her face.

“Oh, I.... No, I don't think—” Before she had finished the sentence they were off again, flying down to the bottom once more. At her feet the dog was watching the progress with his button eyes, trying to work out what was happening.

“I have not done such a thing since my childhood, Mr. Whiskers, and even then I am not entirely sure I did something like this. Do you think I should try?”

Hearing his name, the scruffy dog looked up at Lilly and yipped, which seemed to be confirmation enough.

“Come on, Lilly, this will be our last run or someone will see us,” Samantha wheezed as she once again reached the top of the stairs.

“You have to lift your skirts and straddle it,” Emily directed.

“Emily was scared the first time, weren't you, Em?”

“Indeed I was.”

“I am not scared, precisely,” Lilly said, eying the gleaming banister. “It is just not something I have contemplated doing.”

“Buttles has it polished with his special mixture, which makes you fly down.”

Samantha gave her a wide smile once again, and Lilly felt herself weakening. She would have to be very careful around this child; she obviously had the ability to manipulate a person into doing any number of things.

“It’s fun, Lilly, and Em and I didn't have much fun until James came into our lives.”

“I didn't have much fun in my household either,” Lilly surprised herself by saying.

“Well then,” Emily said, gently taking her hand. “Let's have some fun.”

Nodding, Lilly followed the directions they gave her and swung her leg over the shiny wood. Her stomach did a small flip as she straddled the railing, and then she let go. Nearing the bottom, she heard an outraged shout. She flew through the air, then landed in a pair of strong arms.

“Oomph!”

She heard Devon grunt as he staggered backward several steps.

“What the bloody hell are you doing, woman!”

“Devon, don't swear in front of Samantha,” Lilly scolded him as she slapped down her skirts and righted her bonnet. “Put me down, please.”

He did, but kept an arm around her waist.

“You could have hurt yourself. What were you thinking, to behave in such a reckless manner?”

He was growling at her now. Brows lowered, he was attempting to intimidate her; however, she was onto him. He was all bluster around those he cared for.

“Don't be cross, Dev,” a little voice said below him. “Emily and I were teaching Lilly how to have fun.”

“I fear my heart will never recover,” he muttered before releasing Lilly to look down at the little girl.

“We never hurt ourselves, Dev.”

“You do this often, Samantha?”

She nodded.

“Well, well, well, Miss Emily, it seems you have been hiding your mischievous streak under that prim exterior. Who would have thought—”

“I will thank you to keep the rest of your comments firmly in your mouth, Cambridge Sinclair.”

“Are you telling me that you have never slid down a shiny banister, Lord Sinclair?” Lilly said, ignoring Emily and Cam as they continued bickering.

“Of course I have. I was not, however, an adult.”

“Not entirely true, brother. You and the children slid down our uncle's banister when we first arrived in London.”

“Shut up, Cam,” Dev snapped.

“You're not going to tell James, are you, Dev?”

Samantha was now tugging on Devon's jacket.

“Of course not, Samantha. I was just concerned for you, darling. You know what we older brothers are like.”

Dev followed his words by kissing the little girl on the top of her head.

“You however, madam,” he then said, lifting Lilly's chin, “should know better.” Closing the distance between them, he kissed her softly.

“I enjoyed sliding down James's banister. In fact, I think we should do it again soon, Samantha,” Lilly added, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Why is there a gathering in my entranceway?”

“The lord and master has returned,” Cam drawled as James walked in through his front door.

“We were just going to take Mr. Whiskers for a walk, James,” Samantha said, shooting Dev a pleading look that suggested her brother had no idea what she got up to when he was not there.

“And who is walking with you?”

“Two footmen and a maid, and Lilly!” Samantha said loudly.

“Make that four footmen, and I may allow it,” Devon said before James could speak.

“We would look ridiculous with four footmen trailing after us, Devon. Be reasonable,” Lilly said. “Furthermore, it is not up to you to allow me to do anything. I am an adult and have been making my own decisions for years—”

“And I'm your future husband who recently rescued you from someone intent on harming you.”

“With a protective streak two ax handles wide,” Cam added.

“Much as I hate agreeing with Sinclair, cousin, I'm afraid in this he is correct. You will not leave this house without an assurance people are watching over you and my sisters.”

“Why is everyone standing in the entranceway?” Nicholas questioned, walking through the still-open door.

Lilly seized him by the arm—much to his surprise, as they were still wary around each other.

“Nicholas shall accompany us if that is all right with you, Lord Sinclair?”

Devon's eyes narrowed at her use of his title. Lilly was deliberately baiting him.

“You shall not leave her side, Braithwaite, until you return to this house,” he said, glaring from one sibling to the other.

“I shall let nothing happen to my sister, Sinclair, and I will thank you to remember that before you start issuing orders.”

“It seems both you and your sister have a dislike for taking orders,” he added, which made Lilly smile.

“I can't imagine it is something you respond to either, Sinclair,” Nicholas said.

Devon nodded, his smile rueful, and at that moment, if possible, her love for him increased. He was angry with Nicholas and had told her it would take time to forgive him for his treatment of her, but he would not show that grudge outwardly.

“In that you are correct, Braithwaite.”

“Obey your brother, minx.”

Lilly lifted her face for another kiss, then they left the house.

It was crisp and clear as the small party walked to the park. Emily and Samantha chatted, and Mr. Whiskers went from side to side on his long lead, sniffing everything he could get his nose near. Lilly thought about Cam, imagining him doing the same.

“Danderfield visited me again last night. He blustered and threatened, but there is nothing he can do, as I signed no documents. It was merely my word that I gave, and we both know that was worth nothing then.”

“I'm sorry, Nicholas, and yet very glad I am not to wed such a man.”

He patted her hand where it rested on his sleeve. “It was to be expected. He is not a man who likes being thwarted, but there is little he can do. I have come to realize after doing a bit of investigating that he has a smoky past and is linked to several underhand dealings, and once again I must beg your forgiveness for wanting to see you married to him.”

Lilly waved his words away. “No more apologies, that is in the past. However, I would like to know why are you investigating him?”

He threw her a look, and she could read nothing in his expression.

“Because I cannot rule out that he will create further trouble for you. Plus, I am looking into many people after what happened to you. I want to help Sinclair and Raven, to find out what is going on. Also, there is the matter of those missing children that needs to be sorted.”

“I don't know what to say.” Lilly looked to where Samantha skipped before them, swinging Emily's hand.

“Did you think I would simply sit back and let James and Sinclair deal with this? You are my sister, Lilliana. I love you, and I may not have always shown you that, but now I want to protect you and support you in what you care for. Those children mean a great deal to you, therefore we need to find out what is happening.”

She felt ridiculously close to tears. She had received too many shocks to this point, but this one seemed to have tipped her over the edge, as she started to sniff.

“I have also told James that when the time comes I too shall acknowledge Emily as my family,” Nicholas said, his eyes on the straight back of their cousin.

Now that, Lilly hadn't expected. Looking up at her brother, she wondered how it was possible that a man could change so much in such a short space of time.

“Emily is not keen on stepping into society, yet James is eager to see that she does. Of course he has already acknowledged she is his sister openly, but as yet she has not met anyone who would challenge her.”

“It won't be easy for her, that much is true. However, with our support and that of the Sinclairs and Lord and Lady Wynburg, I think in time she will be accepted.”

“We go to the quieter part of the park, where Emily feels comfortable,” Samantha said, looking at Nicholas.

“Lead the way then, Samantha, and your cousins shall follow,” Nicholas said, producing a gentle smile for the girl.

“You really have changed, haven't you, Nicholas?” Lilly's words were quiet, but he heard them.

“Yes.”

Nothing further was said, but it was enough for now that she had acknowledged what he was trying to do.

They found a pond with ducks that Mr. Whiskers wanted to jump in and play with. Nicholas took his lead, as the little dog was quite insistent.

“Buttles has given us some bread and James told me that as I cannot yet swim, I am not to follow the bread into the water,” Samantha said, taking a small bundle from one of the footmen.

“That child could murder someone and that smile would get her off,” Nicholas muttered as he watched the footman blush as the little girl beamed up at him.

“Yes, she is a delight.” Lilly laughed.

“It's strange how we have inherited two cousins. Yet I like it, and also this closeness we have with James, even though he is usually lecturing me.”

“Yes,” Lilly agreed. “Strange and yet comfortable.”

They went to the water’s edge and proceeded to throw the bread for the ducks, who swam around in circles quacking loudly in gratitude. Nicholas and Samantha soon found a small island which they were convinced they could reach with their pieces of stale bread, and a competition immediately arose.

“Excellent shot, Nicholas!” Samantha squealed as a plume of water indicated the force with which he had hurled his piece of stale bread, even though it fell short of its mark.

“Are you patronizing me, Samantha Raven?”

“I am too young to understand that word!” Samantha cried, hurling her piece with enough force that she had to lunge to the side to stop herself following it into the water.

Nicholas's laugh made Lilly smile. It was unrestrained and a thing of joy, and she could not remember a time when she had heard it before.

“Good shot, Samantha!”

Sending his sister a ferocious scowl, which she ignored, Nicholas picked up another piece of bread.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely scene. Miss Braithwaite, Lord Braithwaite.”

Lilly shot Emily a look as the Duchess of Abernathy walked toward them. The woman was a notorious gossip, and Emily was not yet ready to face society and most especially not this venomous harpy.

“Duchess,” Nicholas said, dropping his bread and stepping forward to take her hand. “May I say how beautiful you look this morning.”

Swallowing a snort, Lilly watched the Duchess preen under Nicholas's compliments.

“La, Miss Braithwaite, I see quite a change in you. No longer wearing glasses, and finding a modiste who makes clothes that actually fit you, in colors more befitting your age.”

Lilly gritted her teeth. Of course she had known that changing her appearance would draw attention, but she had no wish to be the topic of discussion for this woman. She said nothing, simply nodded, as she had no wish for the Duchess to linger. The sooner she left, the sooner Emily would feel comfortable once again.

“And now, my lord, you must tell me who this beautiful child is? Her governess I obviously have no need of meeting,” the Duchess said, dismissing Emily.

“This is Lady Samantha and Miss Tolly,” Nicholas acknowledged Emily. “They are the Duke of Raven’s sisters, Duchess,” Nicholas said.

“Ah yes, the little bastard daughter.”

Bitch, Lilly thought looking at Emily. She was now standing beside Samantha, her face composed. No one looking at her would realize the turmoil she was no doubt experiencing from the Duchess’s cutting words.

Samantha opened her mouth to protest, but one look from Lilly stopped her. Intelligent child that she was, she knew not to create a scene that would embarrass her sister any further. Executing the perfect curtsey, the child then took Mr. Whiskers from the groom who now held him, and with a sweet smile on her face, she dropped his lead. Excited to be introduced to someone he did not already know, the dog immediately jumped up and put both his dirty paws on the Duchess's skirts.

“Oh, you beastly animal!”

“It's because he likes you,” Samantha said, her features schooled into an innocent look.

“Well, I don't like him! And I will thank you not to laugh,” she added, glaring at Lilly. “You would do well to study your brother's manners, Miss Braithwaite. It seems yours are sadly lacking!”

“I would thank you not to speak to my sister that way ever again, Duchess.”

Nicholas said the words quietly, and Lilly felt ridiculously happy that he had championed her.

“I am a Duchess, I can speak as I like,” the woman snapped.

“Not to my sister, you cannot. Nor to either of these two,” he added acknowledging James’s sisters.

“Well!” Giving them a final glare, she stalked away.

“Shrew!” Lilly hissed. “Thank you for acknowledging Emily and for what you said, Nicholas. I hate that woman more every time I see her.”

“Yes, she is a loathsome witch.”

“I heard a rumor once, that you and she….” Lilly waved her hand about.

“I beg your pardon!”

“You and that woman,” Lilly said, poking her brother hard in the chest.

“I hardly think this is something we should be discussing in such a public setting, if at all,” Nicholas looked uncomfortable.

“I mean it, Nicholas, I shall do something nasty to you if I hear your name is ever linked with hers.” Lilly glared at her brother, who in turn was looking at her like she had sprouted horns.

“Such vehemence, sister. I could almost believe you care for me.”

Brother and sister looked at each other for several seconds, and then Lilly said quietly, “I do.”

Leaning forward, Nicholas placed a kiss on his sister's forehead.

“Then I shall never so much as dance with that woman again.”

“Oh look, Lilly, here comes Toby running toward us!”

Lilly turned to follow Samantha's finger and saw Toby running to where they stood.

“Something is wrong,” Lilly said to Nicholas. “He would never willingly seek me out in public.”

“This is the boy, Toby, who was hurt? The one from Temple Street?”

Lilly nodded, and then moved to intercept Toby.

“What has happened?” she said as soon as he was close enough to hear her words.

“There has been a fire, Lilly, at Temple Street.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Go back to the house, Nicholas. Take Emily and Samantha with you, and tell Devon I have gone to Temple Street as there is a fire there!” Lilly said, picking up her skirts in preparation to follow Toby.

“You are not running off without protection, Lilly. I forbid it, and your future husband will murder me if I allow it.” He grabbed her wrist. “You there,” Nicholas addressed the three footmen who were trying to appear inconspicuous. “Take Lady Samantha and Miss Emily back to the residence. Emily, tell Lord Sinclair and your brother what has happened, and I shall take a footman and my sister to Temple Street.”

Nicholas grabbed her hand, and they were soon running behind Toby back the way he had just come.

“Hurry and call a hackney, Toby. It will get us there faster,” Lilly panted. She watched him sprint ahead of her and out of the park gates.

“I regret, sister, that I get to see your house in Temple Street in such circumstances.”

Lilly was panicking. She had visions of Mr. and Mrs. Davey and any of the children currently there being trapped inside the house.

“I-I am s-so scared, Nicholas.”

“I am here with you, Lilliana. We will face it together.”

“Quick, Lilly, Nelly says he'll take us there!”

Toby was hanging out the door of a hackney as they reached the road. Nelly, she gathered, was the driver, who gave her a toothless grin. The footman clambered up beside him. Nicholas threw her inside and followed, and the carriage started moving as he slammed the door.

“T-tell me what you know, Toby,” Lilly gasped, pressing her fingers to her side to stop the pain.

“Mr. Davey said it was nothing, but Mrs. Davey look scared so I came to get you. I saw the flames and the smoke was thick.”

“But everyone was all right?”

“Sam left for the country yesterday, so no one else was inside.”

“Lord I wish you had told me that before I ran to the carriage. Horrid visions were filling my head, Toby.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know how much damage has been done to the house, but I think everyone is safe.”

Lilly didn't know why, but she had a sinking feeling that the fire was to do with her visit to the Watch House and the kidnapping.

“I am slowly starting to piece together things that at the time did not seem right, but I ignored,” Nicholas said, giving Lilly a steady look as she battled the panic inside her. “Your shopping trips and visits to friends were, in fact, all to your house in Temple Street, weren't they?”

Lilly nodded.

“God, how could I have been so blind.”

Ignoring her brother's muttered words, Lilly was up and out the door as the carriage stopped.

“Looks all right,” Toby said, opening the front door.

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air as they made their way through the house. The small front parlor appeared untouched, as did Mr. and Mrs. Davey's bedroom.

Nicholas followed them silently as they checked the lower floor, and then Toby led the way down the stairs to the kitchens, and Lilly heard the murmur of voices. She found Mrs. Davey with her arms in a tub of soapy water and Mr. Davey with several boards in his hand.

“Is everyone all right?”

“Of course we’re all right,” Mrs. Davey said, quickly drying her hands and reaching for the kettle to heat water. Tea was always called for when anyone arrived at Temple Street.

“Where was the fire?”

“Now then, boy, you should not have disturbed Miss Braithwaite,” Mr. Davey said to Toby. “There is no need to worry yourself; it was just a small fire by the back door in a box of old rags we kept outside. The problem was it got hold of the wood I had piled outside and the flames were high enough to cause a few murmurings in the street. If we'd not been here, the damage would have been substantial, to be sure, but we were, so no harm done. If I'd known the boy was running for you, I would have stopped him.”

“I thought she should know,” Toby said, shrugging as he leaped onto the bench and took the large piece of jam and bread Mrs. Davey handed him.

“Where are your manners, Miss Braithwaite?” Mrs. Davey said, looking over Lilly's shoulder to where Nicholas stood.

“This is my brother, Lord Braithwaite. Nicholas, this is Mr. and Mrs. Davey. They look after the children and run Temple Street. It is their home.”

Lilly watched as Nicholas shook Mr. Davey's hand and bowed to Mrs. Davey. Both looked him up and down, neither looking particularly happy to have him in their home. Lilly had never willingly spoken about her family with them. However she guessed her maid and Wilson had, and none of what they had imparted had been complimentary.

“It seems my reputation has preceded me,” Nicholas said, shooting Lilly a look, to which she shrugged. “However, will you believe me when I say I have seen the error of my ways, hence my appearance here before you in the company of my sister?”

There was silence in the small kitchen and then Mr. Davey nodded. “Well then, that's as it should be, I'm thinking.”

“I wonder if you would be so kind as to take me on a tour of your lovely home, Mr. Davey?” Nicholas added, surprising Lilly. She was happy for him to do just that now she knew no one was in danger.

“Indeed, I would be honored, my lord.”

“Can you show me where the fire started, Mrs. Davey?” Lilly said after they had departed.

“Of course, please follow me.”

Her heart had resumed its normal beat as they walked outside. The weather had grown colder on the drive, and a brisk wind had risen.

“I'll fetch you a shawl, miss,” Mrs. Davey said.

“I shall be all right for a few minutes until I come back inside,” Lilly said, moving to the box Mrs. Davey pointed to.

“That is the box it started in.”

Lilly studied the area. It was small, with only a tiny patch of grass, a shed, and several chairs. There was a gate at the rear of the property and it would not be hard for a person to slip down the narrow lane and inside to light the fire. Was she being overly suspicious? Walking around the box, she looked at it from all angles.

“How do you think it started, Mrs. Davey?”

“Don't rightly know. Mr. Davey couldn't work that one out either. Oh, I almost forgot in all the goings-on, Miss Braithwaite, that a message was delivered for you first thing this morning.”

“Thank you,” Lilly said, taking the note the woman pulled from her apron. “Please go back to whatever you were doing, Mrs. Davey. I'll be along shortly.”

“Come in when you're finished, and I'll have a cup of tea ready to take off the chill.”

“Thank you.”

Lilly took out the note and opened it.

I had planned to send you on a long voyage to a certain Kurdish sheikh who will pay an extremely high price for you, as he has a lust for blonde English noblewomen, Miss Braithwaite. That can still be arranged, as can the fact that I can burn this house to the ground and hurt anyone you care about. Stop meddling in my business, or next time I will make you pay tenfold.

Shivering, Lilly wondered what she should do next. If something happened to Devon, or any of the others in her life now, she would never forgive herself.

“I thought we agreed you were not to rush headlong into danger without first notifying me.”

Pushing the note behind her back, she turned to face Devon. Lilly could tell he had left the house in haste. He was hatless, his hair standing on end, and the collar of his overcoat was tucked inside.

“I had to come; Toby said there was a fire. Nicholas and a footman are here,” Lilly rushed to say. “Mr. Davey is at present showing him the house.”

“And what of the danger to you?” he said, ignoring the fact that her brother was there. Taking off his coat, he moved to where she stood.

“I am quite warm,” Lilly said, retreating several steps.

“Your lips are blue, and if you wish to hide what is in your hand from me, then I will not force you to show it. However, I will search your things when you're not looking.”

The woman would see him in Bedlam, Dev thought as his heart settled back into his chest. He had been looking over some maps in James’s office, while the Duke took his wife driving around the park, when Emily and Samantha had burst into the room to inform them that Temple Street was on fire. He had run out of James's house and jumped into the carriage he’d just called to take him to the docks. He had then urged the driver to race at a reckless speed through London and its bustling traffic.

“You wouldn't be so underhand!” Lilly said in shocked tones, which made him laugh.

Something had frightened her. The fire definitely, but also whatever was in that note she had thrust behind her skirts.

“Of course I would. How do you think I kept track of my siblings, without being underhand,” he added, wrapping his coat around her shoulders and hauling her close so he could kiss her. All the starch instantly left her spine as she sank into him. Lord, she had the softest lips, Dev thought, an instantaneous tug of lust surging through his body.

“All right,” Lilly whispered against his mouth.

“All right?”

“All right, you can read my note,” Lilly said, pulling back and handing it to him. “But you must understand that I have no wish for you to start roaring or being even more protective. I am showing it to you because I want no secrets between us.”

“I understand,” Dev said, wondering what the hell it said. “When did you receive it?”

“Mrs. Davey gave it to me a few minutes ago,” she said, handing it to him.

Lifting an arm, he tucked her under it and opened the paper so they could read it together. He felt his blood run cold as he read the angry, slanted words.

“Inhale and exhale a few times before you say anything,” she urged him. It was sound advice. The hand she rubbed up and down his chest also helped... but only a little.

“Christ, Lilly.”

“I know, but as you saved me, I am not on a boat about to be delivered to a Kurdish sheikh.”

“You never will be.” Dev hugged her close. “I want you to leave London with me for a while, Lilly. Just until it is safe and this madman is caught.”

Her body stiffened against his. “I cannot leave now, Devon, you must know that.”

“To lose you would destroy me, love.”

“That's not fighting fair, Devon.”

“My feelings for you go beyond fair, Lilly, and I will not have you taken from me because you show a reckless disregard for your welfare. This,” he waved the note before her, “is very real, and words of a man who is dangerous and intent on achieving his goal no matter the cost. I cannot allow you to get anywhere near him again. Therefore, you must be protected, and to do that, I want you to leave London.”

Dev watched the frustration flicker across Lilly's face. She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn't let her. She had to learn that he was part of her life now, and she could no longer make decisions without forethought.

“You are to become my wife. Therefore your welfare is my main concern, and if I sound unreasonable for wanting to remove you from some madman intent on taking you from me, then so be it.”

“Of course I understand why you are speaking this way, but I cannot leave now. Not when the children need me. But if we stay in London, I will do as you say and will go nowhere without you knowing it. I promise.”

Dev looked down at her for the longest time and then smiled. “I almost believe you.”

“I would never lie to you!”

“Don't look offended, love. I know you would never deliberately lie to me; however, I think you are used to acting alone, as is evidenced by your actions today.”

Lilly huffed, then faced him, placing a hand on his chest.

“Please.”

He was used to his siblings bribing and manipulating him. This woman had a lot to learn if she was entering their family.

“Please, ah.... Please, Dev.”

“That was the most pathetic attempt at begging I have ever heard. My siblings would have laughed themselves sick had they heard. You need to speak to Dorrie; she begs better than anyone I've ever met.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes,” he said, unrepentant about the fact. Anger still smoldered inside him, but he could at least breathe easier knowing she was close.

Her expression slowly changed before his eyes. Her eyes softened as she wet her lips with her tongue. Dev braced himself as she lifted to her toes and reached for a handful of his hair, then tugged his head down for a kiss.

Innocent she may be, but Dev was soon on fire.

“Please, Devon,” she said in a breathy little voice that a courtesan would be proud of.

“All right,” Dev said, his voice harsh as he battled his body's response to Lilly's kiss. “But you have to promise to do as I say and if anything further happens, we leave London. Furthermore, I will not let you win every argument with such an obvious display, even if I enjoyed it.”

“I promise.”

“Again, I'm not totally convinced, and yet we will leave that for now.” Dev grabbed her hand and tugged her back in the direction of the kitchen door. “We have to tell Mr. and Mrs. Davey the truth, love, about everything so they will be ready if anything further happens.”

“They know some of it, but yes, you are right.”

Dev was surprised to see Nicholas Braithwaite seated at the small table in the kitchen, sipping tea from one of Mrs. Davey's teacups. He looked quite comfortable. The man was trying, he'd give him that.

“I tried to get Lord Braithwaite up to the front parlor, Miss Braithwaite, yet he would not budge,” Mrs. Davey said, looking quite happy with the fact.

“It is warmer in here, Mrs. Davey, and this apple tart is quite possibly the most delicious I have ever tasted.”

“Is it, Braithwaite? Well, then you had best leave enough for me,” Devon said, putting Lilly into one chair and taking the other.

Soon the small party, including Toby, who was still seated on the bench swinging his legs happily and munching yet another slice of bread, was all busy eating and drinking. Lilly brought Mr. and Mrs. Davey up-to-date with everything that had transpired.

“And I would completely understand if you wish to leave London for a time because of this,” Lilly said when she had finished her tale.

“Oh no, miss, we'll be staying put and caring for the children when they need us, and of course there's our Toby,” Mrs. Davey said, giving the boy a smile that he acknowledged with a small one of his own.

“If you will allow it, Mr. Davey, I will have someone watch over the house for a time. He'll be discreet so as not to upset any of the children, but it will ease Miss Braithwaite's mind,” Dev said.

They were proud people, the Davey's, and he knew they prided themselves on caring for the boys and themselves without any fuss or help. Because of this, he had made the offer sound like it was to ease Lilly's mind and hoped that would make a difference.

“I should be relieved if you would take up Lord Sinclair's offer,” Lilly added her voice to Dev's.

“If it will make Miss Braithwaite happy, then we shall allow it,” Mr. Davey said.

“Excellent.” Dev gave Lilly a wink.

They left the house a short while later, and Dev tried not to think about the letter he now had tucked in his top pocket. He would have to talk to his family and James about it later. Maybe even Nicholas, but for now he said good-bye to Lilly's brother, watching as he strode off down the street, having decided to walk to the business he said he had to attend to.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Take us around the park and keep to the quieter areas until I tell you otherwise,” Dev said to the driver before he climbed into the carriage and shut the door firmly behind him.

“Why are we driving around the park?” Lilly watched him settle into the seat across from her.

“Because I want a few minutes alone with the woman I love without interruption.” Dev took her hand in his and then proceeded to remove her gloves. “I want to drive through the park with you and have no one ask me questions,” he added, tugging her onto the seat beside him.

“But what if I want to ask you a question?”

“As long as it is not overly taxing, I shall answer it,” he said, taking her other hand and removing that glove too.

“Dev, someone shall see us!” Lilly gasped as he kissed each of the fingers he had exposed.

Standing, he wrenched the curtains closed and then reseated himself. She had kissed him at Temple Street and that brief taste had stayed with him as he drank tea and politely answered questions. He had watched her nibble on a scone and remembered the feel of those lush lips on him. The visions he had tried to push from his head of their lovemaking had risen, and now he wanted her with a need that overrode everything else. He would have her or go mad.

“What are you doing?”

Ignoring her question, he slid his hands under her skirts, pushing them up her thighs. He then picked her up and lowered her to straddle his lap.

“This is your fault,” he said, taking off her bonnet and flinging it across the carriage. “You kissed me, and behaved in a thoroughly inappropriate manner, and now I can't stop thinking about you naked.”

“Devon!”

She was shocked silent, which gave him time to start on the buttons of her dress. He managed several before the need to touch her overwhelmed him, and he slipped his hand inside her bodice and cupped the soft, full flesh of one breast through her chemise.

“Oh lord, that is wonderful.”

“I'm not stopping,” Dev growled, tugging more buttons free. He then had her breasts exposed. “You have beautiful breasts, Lilly. Your nipples are like raspberries, begging for me to bite into them.”

“Yes, please.” Her head fell back as his mouth closed over her and he began to lave the tight peak with his tongue.

Dev had a reputation for being thorough. He prided himself on missing nothing, so he lavished each and every inch of her breasts with the same attention, until she was whimpering and begging him to take her.

“Had I known these were beneath your evening gowns, I would have made more of an effort two years ago,” he said, his hands now replacing his lips to stroke and caress the silken skin once more. “I would have taken you into the nearest room…,” Dev rasped as she arched toward him.

“Be quiet and kiss me!” Lilly cried, pushing him back on the seat and pressing her lips to his. She was as desperate as he to taste and touch. Her hands were everywhere. Pushing aside his jacket, she opened his buttons and stroked his chest.

Clamping one hand on her neck, Dev wrapped the other around her waist and hauled her close until nothing separated them. Teeth clashed and noses banged as they ravished each other. They were desperate, no longer aware of where they were, only that the fire inside them needed to be extinguished.

Dev cupped her ankles and then traced the contours of her legs as he moved his hands higher. He ran his fingers around the band at the top of her silk stockings before moving higher until he reached her bottom. Tracing the creamy swells, Dev shuddered as Lilly wriggled against him, the friction almost painful.

She forced her hands between them and tried to undo the buttons of his breeches.

“Help me, damn you!”

“Ask me nicely,” Dev whispered against her breasts, his warm breath brushing over the sensitive skin.

“Pleasseee.”

Ripping open the buttons, Dev clamped his hands on her hips and lifted her, lowering her onto his aching length. Both moaned as Lilly took him deep inside her.

“Yes, love,” Dev whispered. “Ride me.”

Lilly braced her hands on his shoulder as she rose and lowered. The friction was exquisite.

“Don't stop; you feel like heaven, Lilly.”

She did it again and again, each slide and thrust driving him to the point of madness. Gripping her hips, he drove up as she came down.

“Dev!”

Swallowing her cries, he kissed her hard and took over, pulling her down harder with each thrust until the only sound in the carriage was ragged breathing. Lowering his head, he took one swollen nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, and Lilly fell apart in his arms. She clenched around him as he drove upward once more. Biting back the hoarse cry that came to his lips, he grunted, pouring himself into her as she slumped forward onto him.

Lilly lay her head on his chest, one hand fisted in his shirt as she struggled to regain her composure. Slowly sounds started to make themselves heard once more. The rumble of carriage wheels, the clip-clop of hooves, and people making their way around the park. She should be horrified; Lilly had never behaved so rashly in her life. To make love with Dev in a carriage with people a few feet away…. She should be shocked and horrified; instead, she was sated and ridiculously happy. One of his hands cupped her head, the gesture protective, while the other swept slow circles over her back.

“When can we marry?”

She felt his smile in her hair.

“If you are agreeable, we shall leave at the completion of the season and marry on Raven Mountain in James's church.”

“Yes, I like that idea. I do not want lots of people, just our families.”

Dev rubbed one of her curls between his fingers.

“It sounds perfect to me.”

Giving the curl a tug, he kissed her hard as she looked up at him.

“I like you naked and at my mercy.” Lilly shivered as Devon traced the curve of her breast. Pushing herself off him, she took the handkerchief he handed her and moved to the opposite seat. Her large fiancé remained relaxed; his body sprawled across from her.

“When we are wed, I may tie you to my bed and keep you naked from dawn till dusk, wench.”

“You could try,” Lilly said, reaching for her chemise.

“You'd probably just chew through the ropes,” he said, rousing himself to right his own clothing and then help her do up her buttons.

Between them, they got her clothed and then he opened the curtains. Lifting the hatch above his head, he told the driver to take them back to James's house. Sitting beside her, he took her hand, entwining their fingers, and Lilly felt that little shiver of heat that touching him always produced inside her.

“How will we find who is behind all this, Devon?”

“After reading that note, I am going to hire a Runner and a private detective. If we continue probing it will make whoever is responsible all the more eager to stop us, so we must act secretly.”

“I like that idea, and reiterate my promise that I shall not take any unnecessary risks.”

Seeing something fierce flit across his face, Lilly lifted a hand and touched his cheek. “I love you so much, Devonshire Sinclair, and promise to do nothing to separate us ever.”

“And I you, my love, and I will be ensuring that happens.”

They drove in silence for a while, content to be alone together as the city of London moved around them.

“I know you have acquired this new property for your children down at the docks, Lilly, and I was hoping you would ask Nicholas to look after the changes you want made there.”

“Do you think he would?” Lilly asked. It would do no good to insist she see to the changes; Devon had not pushed for them to leave London, and for that she was grateful. However, she had no wish to antagonize him now she had what she wanted.

“I don't see why not. He is a changed man, Lilly, and eager to show you the difference in him. Now he knows about your children, he may wish to have some involvement.”

Lilly thought about that. It was hard to think of her brother in the terms Devon spoke, even though she had acknowledged those changes herself today.

“I understand that you are struggling to accept that he is different, love. I too struggle with it, yet Cambridge saw two of the men he once gambled with cut Nicholas last night at the Hadleigh musical. He then heard insults and murmurs about him, spoken just loud enough for your brother to hear.”

“Cambridge stayed with him?” Lilly said, feeling ill at what Nicholas had gone through, but relieved he had not done so alone.

“My brother may be many things, but he is honorable and stayed with Nicholas until he left.”

“Considering what he did to Cam, it was very generous indeed. I am pleased he had someone to look over him.”

“As do you, love. A fact that I'm sure, given time, will make you want to run screaming from the house; however, never forget they mean well,” Dev said, squeezing her hand.

“I think once I get used to it, having a large family will be a wonderful thing.”

“It has its moments.” He smiled at her. “The Selkirk ball is in two nights, love.”

Lilly looked out the window as a carriage passed close by. She had not entered society since the night of her abduction and was not sure she was ready to yet.

“If it affected just you and me, Lilly, then I would be more than happy to snub society,” Devon said, understanding her thoughts even though she had not voiced them. “Yet James and I have siblings who will make their debuts one day, plus Essie, Cam, and your brother still walk among society. We need to make an appearance to halt the wagging tongues.”

Lilly's sigh was long and loud. “I suppose we must, when you put it that way.”

“Cheer up, love, you will be surrounded by family,” Dev said, lifting her hand once more to his lips. “I have only one thing to ask of you, my sweet.”

“Anything,” she said, because she would do it if it were in her power. She'd reach up and grab the moon for him if she could.

“Will you dress as you have today, and let society really see the woman you are? Will you leave off your glasses and wear something that does not upset my stomach, and leave the wild animals and small woodland creatures from your hair?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Mr. Spriggot and Mr. Brown have arrived, my lord.”

“Thank you, Pennyroll,” Dev said, ushering Lilly to the stairs. “Are they in my uncle's study?”

“Yes, my lord. The Duke and Mr. Sinclair are at present with him.”

“Of course they are,” Dev muttered, taking the stairs two at a time and dragging Lilly behind him.

Devon had taken Lilly driving in the park. She suspected this was to keep her busy, so she did not go off on her own, but she did protest. Three days after she had received that letter, she was still looking over her shoulder wherever she went.

“They could not simply have waited until I arrived.”

Lilly had noticed that only his siblings could make Devonshire Sinclair surly. For the most he was a pleasant, affable man—to those who did not know him well. To the rest, his family and her, he was demanding, officious, and she loved every inch of him, because his behavior stemmed from the need to keep his people safe. She had no doubt if he could get away with it, he would take them all to an island somewhere and set the boat adrift.

They heard the rumble of voices as they reached the room. Dev flung the door open and towed Lilly inside. James and Cam were seated beside each other, and two other men sat opposite.

“Good afternoon, Lord Sinclair.”

“Mr. Spriggot,” Dev said, pushing Lilly into a chair. “This is my fiancée, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Miss Braithwaite,” the detective said, gaining his feet and bowing, which caused a few strands of hair on his head to slip their moorings and dangle down the side of his face momentarily, until he swept them back into place with a gesture Lilly was sure he had made many times.

“Mr. Spriggot.” Lilly nodded to the innocuous-looking man. Small and thin, he was dwarfed by the men around him.

“And this is Mr. Brown,” Dev said, shaking hands with the other man.

“Mr. Brown,” Lilly said, nodding to him. He had hands bigger than ham hocks and a large bald head and blunt features. “Hello, James and Cam,” she added. Dev acknowledged them with a curt nod and then prowled to the fireplace.

“Did you enjoy your drive, Lilly?”

“Yes, thank you, Cam.”

“Perhaps you could begin at the beginning, Miss Braithwaite. His Grace and Mr. Sinclair have told me some of what has transpired, but perhaps you could fill in the gaps, as it is you who are the intended target.”

Lilly watched Dev's shoulders stiffen. His eyes had narrowed and were focused intently on the man. He had not liked being reminded of her abduction. Gone was her amiable fiancé, and in his place was the ruthless lord she knew he could be.

“It began when I was told the children were being taken.” Lilly told the two men everything she knew, and then answered each and every question they politely asked of her.

“Tea, Lord Sinclair.”

“Thank you, Pennyroll, and please bring the brandy also,” Cam said. It seemed he had also noted the tension in his brother.

“You have been very clear with your details, Miss Braithwaite, and Mr. Brown and I thank you for that,” Mr. Spriggot said, waving away the brandy Cam tried to hand him and instead nodding to the teapot. Lilly picked it up and poured him a cup.

“I shall start on my enquiries at once, and I believe Mr. Brown has an associate that he will station at Temple Street. Is that not so, Mr. Brown?”

“Indeed it is. He's a good man and I shall take him there immediately after I leave here, if that is all right with you, Lord Sinclair?”

Devon looked to Lilly. “Will that suit you?”

“Yes, that will be excellent, thank you,” she said, giving Dev a small smile to acknowledge he had asked her advice instead of just confirming Mr. Brown's words.

“If I may add to what we have already discussed,” Devon said, “this note was waiting for Lilly when she reached Temple Street three days ago, when she went to see the fire.”

Silence settled heavily in the room as each man read the words.

James growled, Cam hissed. Mr. Spriggot and Mr. Brown regained their feet.

“Well then, this note would suggest we must move with some expediency. We shall say good day to you all,” Mr. Spriggot said, bowing.

Pennyroll appeared to escort the two men out.

“It's a smoky business, this abducting children and then you, Lilly,” Cam said, busy placing two small triangle sandwiches on top of each other before jamming the lot in his mouth.

“Must you continually cram food into that great cavernous hole, Cambridge?” Dev growled.

Rehashing the entire incident had unsettled him, Lilly thought, watching Dev glare at his brother.

“I'm a growing lad,” Cam said around the food, then, swallowing, he offered his brother a smile. “And as it is our uncle's food, it need not concern you how much of it I eat.”

Lilly smiled into her teacup as James joined the Sinclair brothers in their arguing. It seemed they all needed to release some tension. She wondered if her cousin realized that it was now second nature to him to get involved, when before he would have watched in bemused wonder as she did.

“Oh lord, look at the time.”

“What's the problem, Raven? It is only two in the afternoon. Did you miss your nap perhaps?” Devon taunted him.

James gave him a foul look before speaking. “No, I forgot that we,” he said, sweeping his hand around the room, “are meant to be taking the children to Mr. Rolland's Circus of Strange and Ridiculous Curiosities in precisely forty minutes.”

“I say, are we?” Cam said, leaping to his feet. “I saw the advertisement for that in the paper. It looks exciting.”

“You're twenty-eight years old, man. How can you possibly be excited about a show that features a bearded lady and a mermaid?” James looked disgusted.

“I live life to the full and embrace every new opportunity, James, so I can remain unjaded, unlike you and my brother here.”

James merely raised an eyebrow and then looked at Dev. “I would rather be classed as jaded, wouldn't you, Sinclair, than imbecilic.”

“Amen to that,” Dev vowed.

“That's very harsh criticism of Cam,” Lilly said, climbing to her feet and slipping her arm through her soon-to-be brother-in-law's. “I think your enthusiasm is wonderful.”

“Wonderful? Well, in that case, you can accompany us and be enthusiastic when the children run their sticky fingers all over you,” Dev said, pushing off the mantle to come toward her. “They will be taking some homemade sweets with them that my aunt's cook has made especially for the occasion.”

“I don't think—”

“Escape is impossible, I'm afraid,” Dev said, planting a kiss on her lips as he passed.

“But I need—”

“To gather your things, as we leave in precisely in twenty minutes,” James said, patting her head as he also headed for the door.

“Wrap up warm, Lilly, there is definitely a nip in the air,” Cam said, giving her arm a squeezed before he too left the room. She stood there for several seconds just enjoying the feeling of being wanted and loved, of having family, and then with a silly giggle she hurried from the room to find Essex. As she had nothing to wrap up warm in she would need to borrow something from her soon-to-be sister-in-law. She also would need to send her Aunt Vi and Nicholas word of where she was going.

How had she lived for so long without these people to fill her life?

Chapter Twenty-Six

“We have sweets, Lilly.”

Dev smiled down into the eager face of his sister as she talked to the woman at his side.

“Yes, your brother told me about them, and I'm hoping you will see your way to letting me sample one as I have not eaten a lot of sweets before.”

They were standing outside the small wooden building that housed the revolving cinema, along with the rest of the people wanting to get inside out of the cold. It was a new experience for Lilly, coming here with the entire Raven/Sinclair family, but she appeared to be handling the situation well.

Wrapped up in a long emerald coat of Essie's, she looked young and beautiful, and she was his.

“They are so sweet they make your tongue curl, Mrs. Maricold says.”

“Marigold, darling,” Eden said, pulling Warwick's woolen hat down to cover his ears.

“And she says that Pennyroll has the record of eating more than ten pieces in one night.”

“Pennyroll is obviously a man of hidden talents,” Lilly said.

“Right, the doors now appear to be opening,” Dev said. “We shall proceed in an orderly manner to the front door. All children are to take the hand of an adult, please.”

“Forever hopeful, brother,” Cam said, loping up behind Dev.

Taking Lilly's hand, Dev then took a twin and they made their way toward the entrance.

The weather in London had turned the last week. A brisk wind whipped around their ankles, and he was glad they would all soon be inside the theater, as it looked as if the skies were about to open and they would be wet through in minutes.

“It's exciting, isn't it, Dev?”

“It certainly is, darling.”

Dorrie skipped and hopped beside him while Lilly walked as she did everything, now she was no longer hampered with yards of ill-fitting material: with a natural grace. Warwick, he noted, had taken her hand, which was interesting. At eight years of age, his youngest sibling was fiercely independent and did not willingly cuddle or hold hands with anyone who was not close to him. Lilly, it seemed, had found a place in his affections.

They filed through the doors and moved into the theater. It was softly lit inside, and they could see the stage, which appeared to be illuminated from beneath. There were plenty of patrons already in their places. The children whispered loudly about whatever they saw, their chatter increasing in volume with every word.

“Please come this way, your Grace.”

A man appeared and bowed deeply before James. Dev raised a brow as his nose touched his knee.

“What can I say, people want to impress me,” his brother-in-law drawled softly. “Such a shame a few of you fail to understand that with my title should come respect.”

These words produced snorts from Dev and Eden, the only ones to hear.

“My name is Mr. Rolland, and I am the proprietor of this amazing performance you are about to see.”

He wore a battered top hat and bright red jacket. His mustache was waxed to curl up on the ends and covered the upper half of his mouth.

“How does the mermaid move around London if she has no legs?”

Samantha, who was hanging on to Eden's hand, gave Mr. Rolland a searching look to accompany these words.

“She goes straight back to the sea when the show is over, my dear,” Mr. Rolland answered.

“But how does she know when to come back for the next show?”

“Someone must be able to speak mermaid,” Dorrie added, a frown creasing her forehead as she tried to work through the weighty problem of mermaid communication.

“And so it begins.” Dev sighed.

“What begins?” Lilly said, fighting her laughter.

“The questions,” Essex whispered. “It will be endless throughout the performance, and for about a week after. They are insatiable when something interests them.”

“They will dissect everything, from the mermaid's tail to how the revolving floor moves,” Cam whispered in her ear. “Supposedly we were the same, or so our mother told us.”

“But if she has no legs then she can't walk, and I've tried getting about on my belly and it is not easy. It would surely take a day to travel here from the water,” Warwick said.

“She is collected from the sea each day,” Mr. Rolland said in a voice that was beginning to sound strained.

Dev knew the look in his eyes, like game trapped in a hunter's sights, because he'd been there a time or two himself.

“But what if her tail dries up, surely that would be dangerous,” Dorrie added. “I've heard that when a fish is left out of water it dies. Why doesn't that happen to the mermaid?”

“Can I urge you to take your places along with the other spectators, as the show is about to begin!” Mr. Rolland sounded desperate now.

“I've thought about hiring them out to the Foreign Office to interrogate enemy spies.”

Lilly laughed as Dev had intended her to.

“I think they are sweet and show an intelligence that seems to be lacking in their elder siblings.”

“You will pay for that comment later, my love. However, now we must gird our loins for the delights of Mr. Rolland's Circus of Strange and Ridiculous Curiosities.”

They walked down several steps and onto the floor along with the other patrons. Divided into two parts, the audience was to stand on the outer rim, which formed a circle around a raised platform that Dev guessed the actors would perform on.

“Move for the Duke of Raven and his party, if you please!”

James groaned as several other patrons were shuffled back to allow them to the front of a row.

“No, really, there is no need—”

“Only royalty is higher than you, your Grace. I will not have anyone saying Mr. Rolland’s Circus of Strange and Ridiculous Curiosities does not look after its distinguished guests.”

“One word, Sinclair.”

Dev raised his hands as James glared at him. They shuffled to the front, adults at the back and children placed securely before them.

“No one moves or touches anything, is that understood?”

“Yes, Dev,” his siblings said.

“That goes for you too, Samantha,” James added.

“Oooh, it's starting!” Somer squealed as Mr. Rolland appeared suddenly above them on a raised platform.

“Please brace yourselves, as the platform you are currently standing upon is about to start moving!”

“Dev, we’re moving!”

“I can feel that, Warwick.”

“Prepare to be dazzled by the delights of Mr. Rolland's performers!” Mr. Rolland said as slowly the lights went out around them, with only the raised platform still lit. Dev watched as Mr. Rolland was lowered and then a large woman slowly appeared above them, rising out of the mists that now floated around her.

“I am the bearded woman from Venezuela!”

“More like Putney,” Dev muttered.

Lilly saw the show for what it was, a group of people that were very clever at the art of disguise, and she loved every ridiculous minute of it. She loved watching the children laugh and squeal with delight, and she loved that she wasn't afraid of the dark because Dev had his hand on her waist, reassuring her that he was close. But most of all she loved being there with all of them, part of these wonderful families.

“I believe you're enjoying yourself, Miss Braithwaite.”

“I admit I am. It is a novelty for me, and seeing it through the eyes of the children makes it all the more fun.” Turning her head slightly, she brushed his lips with her own. “But most of all I'm so happy to be here with you and the families.” His green eyes seemed to glow at her. He didn't speak, just smiled and returned the kiss.

“I will not spoil it for you then, and tell you what I can see.”

“Is that hard? Seeing everything that others cannot?”

“Sometimes, but I'm used to it now. Besides, I get to see those dimples of yours when you smile, no matter how far away from me you are.”

“I must remember you see everything,” Lilly muttered. “I will be able to hide nothing from you.”

She saw the flash of his white teeth and then felt his hand stroke her bottom.

“It's the mermaid, Lilly!”

“I can see that, Dorrie, and she is very beautiful, don't you think, especially her blue tail.”

“It sparkles,” Samantha gasped, clutching her hands to her chest as the mermaid reached the top of the platform, where she proceeded to splash around in a small pool of water.

“She is a very talented mermaid. In fact, I think I may have heard her sing one night while I swam off the cliffs of my home,” James said.

“Was that her, do you think?” Cam said, appearing to ponder James's words. “I have heard the singing, but was unsure of its source.”

The children were nodding in agreement, stating they too had heard the singing and vowed that it was indeed this mermaid and her family.

“Ooh, do you think she lives near Oak’s Knoll, Dev?”

“Mermaids are a bit like migratory birds, I believe, Dorrie. They move around to the warmest climates as the seasons change.”

Warwick nodded. “That makes sense. I wouldn't want to freeze my—”

“Thank you, Warwick,” Devon said quickly. “I believe we understand your meaning.”

“You have tears running down your cheeks, Lilly. Is it because the mermaid is so beautiful?”

Nodding at Dorrie, Lilly bit her lip. She had never laughed so much in her life.

“I hear fire,” Eden said softly.

“I smell smoke.” Cam spoke at the same time as his sister.

“How far away?” Devon asked.

“Just starting, but we need to move now,” Eden replied.

James ducked under the barrier and then climbed up on the stage beside the mermaid as quickly as he could.

“There is a fire, we all need to leave the building. Please move calmly to the entrance at once.”

Lilly looked at the entrance. It was some distance away, but she could as yet not see the fire or smell smoke. The building was made of wood, and would ignite in minutes, but with Eden and Cam's warning, they would surely get out before the fire took hold.

“James, look up!”

Eden's scream made them glance skyward, in time to see a lit torch come hurtling toward the Duke.

“Jump!” Dev roared.

Lilly watched the Duke fly through the air to land at his wife's feet. Devon and Cam grabbed an arm each and steadied him.

“Now run!” Devon roared, picking up both twins. “Cam, take Warwick,” he added as James picked up Samantha. “Eden, Essie, and Lilly, take hold of a jacket and don't let go. We form a chain and it will not be broken till we get outside. The smoke will soon make it hard to see!”

“I have your shirt, Dev!”

Acknowledging Lilly's words with a nod, he wrapped his arms around his sisters and started for the doors with the other patrons. Around them people were running and screaming. Children had begun to cry.

“I have you safe, darlings, just hold on a little longer.”

Lilly listened as he talked to the twins and focused on his voice. Terror built inside her with each step they took. A hand gripped her coat from behind, and she hoped the others were close, and prayed everyone made it out safe.

“Talk to me, Lilly. Reassure me you are there!”

He followed those words with a cough, and she knew he would take in more lungfuls than them, because he was talking.

“I'm here, Devon. Don't talk, just move!” She patted his back, and whatever leg, arm, or shoulder she could reach of the twins.

“Left, Sinclair!” That was James's voice, and Lilly felt a rush of relief at the sound.

The smoke was making it hard to see. The fire had sprung to life as yet another torch was thrown. Placing a hand over her mouth, she let go of Devon briefly.

“Lilly!”

“I'm here, just covering my nose and mouth.”

“Get in front of me!”

“You go first and I shall be right behind you,” Lilly shouted to be heard above the noise.

“Don't let me go, Lilly!” Devon roared before making another surge for the door.

People tried to push past them and over them, but they kept hold of each other, be it a hand or a piece of clothing. No one broke the link. The smoke was thick now, but Lilly did not look behind her.

“We are at the door, love, just a few minutes more and we will be outside!”

She heard Devon's words and felt the surge of people propel them forward, but she lost her footing and her hold on Devon's jacket.

“Lilly!”

She heard his cry, but could do nothing to stop herself from falling.

Rushing through the door, Dev placed the twins on the floor. “Wait over there for everyone,” he told his little sisters as he pointed to a spot nearby, yet far enough to keep them safe from the fire.

“Yes, Dev,” they said, eyes wide with fear. He watched them run and then he turned to head back inside to get the others and Lilly.

Nudging people aside, he noted James, Eden, and Essie two feet from the door. Samantha was coughing in her brother's arms. Grabbing his sisters, he pulled them through and James followed in their wake. “I have Lilly!” Cam said, coming through seconds later with Warwick hanging around his neck like a monkey and Lilly clutching one hand, while Emily held the other.

Lilly lunged at him, and he lifted her off her feet and into his arms, and ran down the stairs, following the rest of his family.

“I was so scared for the children!” Eden cried.

“I know, love, but everyone is safe now,” James panted, bracing his hands on his knees.

Dev lowered Lilly to the ground as Cam put Warwick on his feet. The little boy was crying, and Lilly quickly gathered him close. Dev hugged his sisters and slapped James on the back before he went to get the twins. But they were not where he had left them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“I told them to wait there.” Lilly watched Devon point to a spot not far from where they all stood.

“Something is wrong,” he said, running to the place with the rest of them on his heels.

“Eden, Warwick, take out your earplugs and listen for them!” Dev said as he switched his vision. “Lilly, take off your gloves and step into the circle.”

She did not hesitate. Throwing her gloves at Emily, she took Dev's hand, and Eden held the other. Then the other Sinclairs all linked hands and the circle was formed.

Lilly felt the jolt of awareness travel through her as they concentrated on the twins.

“I hear them!” Eden cried, breaking free. She pointed to the back of a fast-moving carriage hurtling down the road some distance away.

“I see them!”

Lilly watched as Devon and the other Sinclair siblings started running down the road. She did not hesitate and started in pursuit.

“Emily, take Samantha and Warwick back to the house in the Sinclair carriage!”

“Of course, James, and God speed to you all,” Emily cried, hugging the two now tearful children close.

Realizing she had no hope of catching the Sinclairs, or the carriage that held the twins, she changed direction to where a man stood holding horses.

“M-my sisters have been kidnapped,” she lied, as a full explanation would take too long. “Th-they are in that carriage.” Lilly waved a hand down the street. “P-please, lend us your horses!”

“I'm being paid to hold them, the men would kill me,” the man said, gripping the reins tight, his eyes suspicious.

“I'm the Duke of Raven, here is my card!” James rasped, arriving on her heels. “I will pay for their hackney home and then personally deliver the horses to them later!”

Lilly watched the man waver. Fishing out her reticule, she took out a handful of notes and thrust them at him. “Take these to soothe your worries!” she said, ripping the reins from his fingers.

James threw Lilly onto the back of one of the horses. Vaulting onto another, he then took the reins of the third.

They reached Eden, Essie, and Cam first.

“Cam, take the horse, and pull Essie up behind you!” James called to him.

Lilly galloped on as James pulled Eden up behind him.

Lilly hiked her skirts high and rode low over the horse’s neck. She heard the others give chase behind her. Ignoring the shouts and waved fists as they flew down the street, weaving between the carriages and forcing pedestrians crossing the road to run to get out of their way, she searched for Devon and found him up ahead, still running. Surely the carriage that held the twins could not be that far ahead with so much traffic on the streets. Urging her mount closer, she drew alongside Devon.

“Hold out your hand!”

He did, and she gripped it hard, hoping they weren't being incredibly foolhardy to attempt this while the horse was moving. She watched him take one large leap and then he swung up behind her. His arms came around her waist and he held her tight. Lilly could feel the deep heaving breaths he took as he struggled to suck air into his lungs.

“Dear God, Lilly, the twins!” She heard the desperation in his voice, the terror that his two precious sisters had been taken from him.

“I know, my love, but we will get them back!”

She felt him shudder and then briefly rest his forehead on her back.

“Where is the carriage?” Cam said, drawing even with them, a ferocious expression on his face.

Dev pointed. Lilly looked and found it up ahead in the distance. She winced as it veered left, nearly overturning.

“Ease back but keep them in sight. We cannot afford to have them take risks and hurt the twins!” James shouted.

“We can't lose them!” Eden cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Never!” James replied, his handsome face mirroring Cam's.

They rode in single file once the carriage had slowed; presumably the kidnappers believed it was not being followed. Lilly and Dev took the lead, and kept the carriage in their sights as it traveled through the streets.

She felt sick inside, fear eating away at her as she imagined the terror those sweet little girls were going through. They had been so excited not one hour before, and now their entire world had been tossed upon its head. And the elder Sinclairs were suffering too. Lilly had heard the pain in Dev's words and seen the stark terror on the faces of the others. They must get the twins back safe; there was simply no other option.

“They are taking the road out of London!” Lilly shouted. Where the hell were they taking the twins?

“Should we attempt to take the carriage and force it to stop?”

“No, Lilly, it's too dangerous. We will follow and then when they stop we will take back what is ours.”

She shivered at the threat in Dev's voice. He would show no mercy. Someone had dared to harm what he protected and loved, and there would be retaliation. Lilly would be there to help mete it out.

They rode in silence, all determined. Lilly fidgeted, trying to get comfortable as her skirts rode up. Hands lifted her, and then she was resettled across Devon's lap. An hour passed, and then thirty more minutes, and finally the carriage pulled off the main road and started down a long driveway. Lilly eased the horse to a halt and the others followed suit.

“Danderfield lives here.”

Lilly looked at James wide-eyed. “Dear God, are you sure?”

“Yes, I once visited here to view a horse he was selling. The place is etched in my memory.”

Lilly knew by the dark look he threw her that James's memories were not happy ones.

“None of this makes sense,” Cam growled. “Why the twins? What reason could force Danderfield to take them?”

“Tether the horses and we will walk up the drive. Keep to the trees,” Dev said, jumping down and lifting Lilly to stand beside him.

“Do you think Danderfield could somehow be involved in kidnapping the children?” Lilly said as she started to work through things in her head. “I mean, he tried to marry me and I could never quite work out why, and yet perhaps it was to shut me up, as he is behind this thieving ring?”

“It sounds far-fetched, but it could be possible,” James said.

“It matters not why he has taken them, only that he has, and will now pay. After we have them back we will discuss the why.”

“Of course,” Lilly said, touching Devon's arm to let him know she understood. His muscles felt as though they had been forged in iron, each one clenched and rigid.

They walked through the gates and then made for the trees. Running between, they crept to the front of the house, where they could see the carriage.

“They are no longer inside.”

“I hear them, Dev!” Eden whispered. “They just told someone that they would be very sorry they had taken them when their family arrived.”

“Thank God they are all right.”

Lilly moved in front of Devon as he briefly lowered his head.

“It will be all right, my love.” She touched a hand to his chest, and he gripped it hard, pulling her into his body. “I promised her I would keep them all safe, yet I have failed so many times.”

“You are not God, brother.” Cambridge's words were cold and clipped, and a long way from those of the happy man he usually was. “No one could have raised or cared for us better than you, so I will thank you to stop talking in that ridiculous manner.”

No one spoke again as they moved to the next cluster of trees.

“Christ, I'm scared, Lilly. They are so small,” Devon whispered into her ear.

“And strong, Devon. You have taught them well, and they will be safe until we reach them.”

He squeezed her hand but said nothing further.

They got as close as they could without detection. The shadows were beginning to settle, yet if anyone looked they would still notice any movement in the trees. The house was made of dark gray stone. To Lilly, it looked bleak and empty. The windows on all levels were shut, curtains drawn, and not one speck of light could be seen.

“What do you see, Dev?” Essie asked.

“No one is inside.”

“The twins’ voices have faded, almost as if they have moved beyond the house,” Eden said, frowning. “Outbuildings,” she then added softly. “There must be outbuildings, and if Lilly is correct, maybe the other children are being held there also.”

“What reason could Danderfield have to be kidnapping children, sister,” Devon said.

“Then why kidnap the twins?”

“True,” Cam agreed. “We know this is his property, but not that he is involved.”

“James, you take Cam and circle the house from the far side while we take this way,” Devon said, pointing to his right.

Lilly watched James brush Eden's fingers as he and Cam left. Lilly, Eden, and Essex held hands as they followed Devon. He motioned them to hunch over as he did, and keeping parallel with the house, they made their way to the rear. If Devon lifted his hand, they stopped, and restarted only when he lowered it.

Dev wanted to kill someone; he wasn't picky who, just someone who was responsible for the pain that had taken up residence in his chest. It had been bad when Lilly had been taken; he had felt a furious burning rage that someone had dared to harm her, his woman. And now his little sisters had suffered the same fate. Dorrie and Somer, who looked on the world as a vast and entertaining treat, filled with wonderful, exciting experiences. They were not supposed to feel pain or terror. He and his siblings had done their best to ensure this didn't happen to the youngest Sinclairs. Yet now it had, and he would see whomever had done this deed in hell.

Moving to the shelter of a bush, he looked at the long low building still some distance away. They would have very little cover to reach it and to do so with so many of them would be folly.

“We saw nothing on our way,” Cam said, arriving at Dev's side with James on his heels. “In fact, this place looks deserted.”

“There is what we are after.” Dev pointed to where the building lay. “And there are four armed men patrolling the outside. I can see colors inside, multiple colors, all children, therefore your guess, Lilly, appears to be accurate. The twins are now in there too.”

“There is no cover, just that bloody lane in.”

Everyone grew silent as they studied the landscape.

“They won't shoot at women.”

“Definitely not!” James whispered to his wife. “I will not allow you to go up to that—”

“No!” Dev snapped at the same time.

“And yet we have no other choice,” Essie said, removing her bonnet. “This is our only chance. If we can distract them long enough for you, James, and Cam to approach, then well and good. If not, you will have to rush them.”

“Exactly,” Lilly said, removing her bonnet also. She then took Dev's necktie and tied it around her head in a band. Eden quickly did the same.

“This is ridiculous,” Dev hissed, gripping Lilly's wrist. He could not allow something to happen to her.

“Trust us, Dev, and know we will be safe until you reach us.”

He held her eyes, saw the determination, and knew he had to let her do it because he had no other way to get to his sisters.

“I don't want to let you do this, but I can see no other way—”

“We are wasting time,” Lilly said.

“You are to take no chances,” he said, scowling at her. “Any of you,” he added, turning the look on his sisters.

“Take my knife,” Cam said, handing it to Essie who slipped it into her bodice.

“Can you shoot?” Dev said, removing his pistol and handing it to Lilly, who in turn lifted her skirts and put it in her stocking.

“I walk the streets of London at night, Sinclair; of course I can shoot.”

He could lose himself in those eyes, and planned to do so, along with her body, when they were home safe. “Be safe,” he said, running a finger down her nose.

Checking Essie over to make sure she looked more like a village woman and less like a noblewoman, he nodded. “Remember you are just to lure them away from the front of the building so we can get there undetected. Attempt nothing further,” he cautioned.

“Any sign of trouble, you run, but not in a straight line,” James added in a harsh voice. Dev saw the fear he felt in his eyes.

“What do you plan to do?” Cam said, looking worried.

“Flirt.” Eden looked scared but determined.

“I've changed my mind—” But it was too late, they'd left Dev's side and walked out onto the rutted lane that led to the outbuildings.

“Watch carefully, Sinclair, and if you see anything, no matter how small, we run,” James whispered. “Simply put, that is my life walking down that lane, and without her I am nothing.”

Nodding, Dev stayed silent, because he knew he felt something similar for Lilly. His love, his life.

“Dear Christ, are they singing?” Cam hissed.

They were putting on quite a performance, laughing and swinging their skirts. Linking arms, they skipped along, apparently without a care in the world, singing at the tops of their voices.

“I feel as though my lunch is going to make a reappearance,” James whispered. “It should be us out there, not them.”

“And yet we would have been shot and be no help to my sisters or whoever else is in those sheds.”

Dev remained silent, letting James and Cam talk. They were close now, and looking at the guards he could see their attention was firmly caught. Lilly rolled her hips in an enticing way, and he watched one of the guards lick his lips and run his eyes over her body.

“I'm killing him first,” Dev snarled.

“What? Tell me what you see?”

“It's best you don't know,” Dev replied. As if he hadn't been angry enough, he felt his spleen begin to boil at the lecherous looks the men were giving his fiancée and sisters.

“Those bastards are comparing the size of our breasts!” Eden hissed, forcing a smile on her face. “So we are going to flirt and then take them around the back so they believe we are going to lift our skirts—”

“Eden!” Essie gasped.

“I'm practicing being bawdy.”

Lilly's snort held little humor.

“Remember, try to speak a little coarser,” Essie whispered.

“Don't come any closer, ladies!”

Lilly sauntered forward, ignoring the gun waving in her face. “We heard in the village that there was some gents here need a bit of fun.” Pushing the barrel of the shotgun aside, she ran one hand up the man's chest and fought a shudder of revulsion as he leered down at her. “Me and my friends is bored,” she added, running one finger down the barrel of his gun, now lowered to his side.

“How much?” one of the other men said, crooking his finger at Essie, who moved slowly forward. Lilly blinked at the sultry look on her face.

“How much you got?” Eden said, moving to the last man.

“Enough for you lovelies,” the man boasted, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her close.

“Got anywhere a bit quieter?” Lilly said, placing her arms around the man's neck. Lord, he smelled foul. She could almost feel the heat of Devon's eyes as they watched her.

“We can't leave here; the boss might see.”

“The boss is busy and will be for hours. Come on.”

Essie pressed closer to her man as he appeared to waver. Lilly watched his eyes glaze with lust, and then he tossed aside his gun and followed the man who led Eden.

“Got anything to drink?” Lilly asked as they walked away to a smaller shed.

“I got everything a lady could need,” he said, then laughed, showing yellow teeth. She prayed Dev arrived soon, because she felt ill at the prospect of this man touching her.

They walked into the building and he let her go to light several candles. It was a small, cramped space and obviously used as sleeping quarters, judging by the belongings spread everywhere. Wrinkling her nose as the foul odor reached her, she looked at Eden and Essie. Both had smiles on their faces; their eyes, however, were like their brothers’: cold with rage.

“We'll have an all in,” one of the men said, eyeing Eden's breasts. “I like the look of your one’s titties.”

“Charming,” Eden muttered as her man all but fell into her cleavage.

“Perhaps you gentlemen should make yourselves comfortable while we put on a little show for you,” Lilly said, pushing her man in the chest and sending him sprawling backward. She toyed with her bodice as he tried to rise.

“Get down here, boys!” he said, licking his lips as she ran one finger down her chest.

Lifting her skirts slowly, Lilly slipped her hands beneath and pretended to fiddle with her stockings, and then pulled the pistol free.

“Hands in the air, please, gentlemen,” Lilly said. “And I use the term loosely, I assure you.”

“Don't speak if you want to live,” Essie said, drawing her knife and waving it before the now wide-eyed men.

“Lie on your stomachs and put your hands on your lower back!” Eden demanded. Once this was done, she and Essie began to bind their hands with the neckties and scarves. Lilly stood over them, pistol at the ready.

“And here comes the cavalry,” she muttered as the door burst open.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Thank God!” Dev found Lilly and his sisters standing over the men. He took the pistol from her as he reached her side. “Did they harm you?”

“No.”

Kneeling beside one of the men, Dev pushed the gun into his side. “Are there more men inside that building you were guarding?”

“No, just Finnegan, the man who is training them.”

“If you've lied to me I'll come back and put a hole in you.”

“I'm not lying!” the man squealed.

“Let's go,” Cam said from the doorway. “We need to find the twins.”

They shut and locked the building and then ran back to the front. Lifting the heavy wooden bar, they pulled the door open and slipped inside.

Dev raised a hand as he heard voices.

“My brothers are going to make you very sorry you ever took us.”

“I'm already sorry,” a male voice muttered.

A partition half obscured what was going on in the rest of the building, yet Dev had heard Somer's voice clearly and knew she was close.

“Yes, and our sister Essex knows how to make you sick with herbs, and Eden, our other sister, will probably shoot you with her gun.”

This time Dorrie was speaking and he couldn't help but smile. They were, it seemed, in one piece and tormenting someone.

“Be quiet and get down here so I can put you to work!”

“We already know how to pick a lock!”

“I ain’t teaching you ’ow to pick locks. I'm teaching you to go into houses and steal fine things.”

Rounding the partition, Dev saw the twins sitting on a tall cabinet, swinging their legs while a man stood below them wringing his hands.

“Look.”

Following Lilly's finger, Dev noted a group of children standing at the rear of the room bending over a table. They were shackled together by metal cuffs and long chains. They had found the missing children, it seemed, but before he dealt with them, he would deal with the man before him.

“My brothers are big and mean with no front teeth and hands as big as a cow pat.”

“Dev!”

Holding up his hands as the twins saw him, he stalled them as they stood up and prepared to launch themselves off the cabinet. He waited for the man to turn, and then planted his fist in his face. “Now you can jump,” he said, holding out his arms.

He heard Lilly's sweet laughter as they flew through the air at him, their faces alight with excitement.

“We've had an adventure!”

“Weren't you afraid?” Dev's words were muffled as he kissed and cuddled them.

“At first, and then we knew you'd come for us so we turned it into an adventure!”

Cam took Dorrie and tossed her into the air, then gave her a hug. Dev watched his eyes close briefly as the little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, and knew that like he, the tension inside him had finally eased.

He turned to find Lilly, but she had left his side to go to the other children. He followed after he had found the key to their chains on the man, who was just coming out of the stupor Dev had put him.

“’Ello, Lilly.”

He watched the children smile at her, and she back at them.

“I'm very pleased to see you, Timmy,” she said, patting the head of a little boy. “Is everyone well?”

“Fink so. Finnegan ain't a bad man, just got caught up with him.”

“Who's him?”

Lilly kept the children talking while Dev released the chains around their ankles.

“Dominus. Heard tell he's nasty piece, so I heard Finnegan say, but we ain’t never seen him.”

“Go and question the man now, Devon. We need to learn all we can about who is behind this business. If it is Danderfield, then he must be stopped.”

He ran a finger down her cheek and then went to do as she asked.

“What's your name?” Cam was pulling the man to his feet when he arrived.

“Finnegan.”

His chin was starting to swell from the knock Dev had given him.

“You took something that was very dear to us, Mr. Finnegan. To realize that your little sisters were kidnapped by God knows who and taken to God knows where was a torture that I assure you I have no wish to ever repeat!”

Dev felt the bite of anger return as he said the words out loud.

“I-I… They were not meant to belong to anyone.”

“Pardon?” Dev lifted one eyebrow at the stuttered words.

“He said—”

“Yes, Dorrie, I heard thank you, love. Perhaps you and Somer could now go and help the others to release the children.” Dev gave Essie a look, and she quickly took her little sisters in hand.

“Let me get this straight, Mr. Finnegan,” Dev said, his eyes once again steady on the man quivering on the seat before him. He knew Cam's expression was equally as fierce as his, because Finnegan's eyes were darting between them. “You were taking only children with no family ties for your endeavors. Whatever those endeavors are.”

“Y-yes.” He nodded rapidly, looking like he was bobbing for apples.

“Then why were our sisters taken!” Cam snapped.

“Th-the men who took them found them alone, and as we needed only two more, he took your sisters.”

“For what purpose?” Dev questioned.

Finnegan looked from him to Cam, then dropped his eyes to his hands, which were twisted together so tight that his knuckles were white.

“Dominus wants to start a thieving gang and take out any opposition, so that he runs all the children on the streets of London. But these children were for more specialized work. Breaking into the houses of the gentry and stealing things.”

“Dominus?”

“That's the name he calls himself.”

“Master,” Dev said softly. “Dominus means master.”

“Danderfield would be just the sort of man to do something like this to my mind.”

“He's a nobleman, this man who calls himself Dominus. But I don't know his real name, only followed the instructions he gave me.”

Dev did not even want to contemplate Lilly in the hands of a man capable of what Danderfield had done.

“I will leave at once and ride for London. Once there, I will organize transportation for the children,” James said, coming to stand beside Dev. “And I have heard what this rodent has to say, and I think we need to work out a plan on how we are going to get that bastard Danderfield, because surely it is he we want.”

“Agreed,” Dev said.

James kissed Eden, and then left, while Dev and Cam returned to questioning Finnegan.

“Dominus never comes here; the house is locked up tight with only a few servants going in to clean it once a week,” Finnegan said, eager to help now he had been caught.

“Tie him to the chair, Cam, while we search the area and make sure those other men are secured.”

“With pleasure, brother.”

Once a search had been completed and no paperwork or evidence found, everyone made their way back down the lane to the Danderfield house, where one of the children broke in with disturbing ease.

“You will not lift anything,” Dev heard Lilly say to the boy as he trailed behind them through the house.

“It's just a little thing,” he said, taking a small silver box from his pocket and handing it to her. “He did kidnap me after all, Lilly.”

“No, Joe, I will not have you thieving in my presence.”

In a drawer in Lord Danderfield's desk, they found what they were looking for.

“There's three of them involved, but Danderfield is the leader,” Cam said, reading a letter. “Lord Richard and Mr. Appleton. There is correspondence here that states everything, right down to Lilly's involvement in stopping that boy being taken the night you found her, Dev.”

“And to think my brother wished to wed me to such a man.” Lilly shuddered beside Dev. He wrapped and arm around her and hugged her close.

Essie and Eden raided the kitchen and found a few supplies that they could throw together for everyone to eat, and then the carriages started to arrive. Children were divided and seated inside, with Mr. Finnegan put up beside one of James's burliest drivers.

Dev mounted the horse they had ridden on and lifted Lilly onto his lap once more. “I want to hold you” was all he said as he and the others fell in beside the slow-moving carriages. She yawned and settled back into his arms with a tired smile upon her face.

“I can think of nowhere else I would rather be.”

“Danderfield is about to flee, my lord.”

“Are you certain, Mr. Brown?” Dev said, looking at the Bow Street Runner five days later as he entered James's office.

“Yes. My man has been watching his place for any sign of him. This morning, just before the sun rose, he slipped inside. My man then slipped a few coins to a footman who left the house a short time later, and he said Danderfield is fleeing for France tonight.”

Dev walked around James's study as he thought about what Mr. Brown had said.

“He has heard about the arrests of Lord Richard and Mr. Appleton,” Dev said, “and is making haste to flee before we grab him.”

James nodded from behind his desk. “We shall have to move quickly.”

They had gathered as much information as they could about Lord Danderfield and what he had been doing. Lord Richard and Mr. Appleton had been more than willing to throw their partner in crime to the wolves when questioned; now all they needed to do was arrest the man so once again everyone would be safe, Dev thought.

“We shall go to the magistrate at once and tell him what we have, and then he can come with us to Danderfield's,” James said.

“We want to come also.”

Dev turned to find Eden, Essie, and Lilly had slipped into the room.

“I suppose you told them word for word what we were discussing?”

Eden merely smiled sweetly back at Dev.

“She has more right than any to be there when you arrest Danderfield, Dev.”

“However, we insist you three stay in the carriage when the arrest is being made, as I do not want to risk one of you getting in the way.”

“Thank you, James,” Lilly said solemnly.

“Thank you, James,” Dev mimicked, scowling at his fiancée, who in turn poked out her tongue.

“Shrew!”

“And Essie and I will keep her company,” Eden said. “You will need another set of ears,” she added.

James wasn't happy about that, yet could do little about it as he had said Lilly could go. “Fine, however, you will do exactly as I say.”

“Of course,” both Essie and Eden, said convincing no one.

Lilly and Devon's sisters watched from the safety of the carriage as Cam, Dev, and James, followed by the magistrate and Mr. Brown, went to Lord Danderfield's front door. It was early evening and the sun was sinking fast. They had thought this the best time as the streets would not be too busy.

Holding her breath, Lilly watched the magistrate’s hand as it lifted the brass knocker and banged it hard three times. Looking up at the white façade, she noted a second-story window behind which was a faint light. The curtain twitched and then stilled. Lowering the carriage window quietly, she listened.

“Open the door at once. This is the magistrate!”

Still the door remained closed.

“What are they saying, Eden?”

“Two men stay here, the rest will go to the rear and try to get in that way.”

Lilly watched as they moved. Dev shot her a warning glance that she guessed meant they were to stay in the carriage, and then he was gone.

“It is intolerable sitting in the carriage not knowing what is going on.”

“Ssssh, I can hear everything,” Eden said, listening at the window. “They are trying to break down the back door. Cam is howling in pain because he hurt his leg.” Eden snorted. “They are in!”

Lilly gripped Eden’s and Essie's hands but remained silent, her eyes intent on the front door. Suddenly it opened and James's face appeared, and then the two men who were waiting there entered the house.

“They are moving from room to room, trying to find Danderfield.” Eden's eyes were alert as she listened.

“Someone is inside. I thought I saw a curtain twitch upstairs.”

“Dev will know where he is, Lilly. He will have seen his colors. Yes, he is directing them upstairs as we speak.”

A desperate tension began to build inside Lilly; something bad was about to happen, she could feel it.

“I heard gunfire. Dear Lord, someone has been shot!”

“Devon!” Lilly screamed. Flinging open the carriage door, she leaped from it and ran for the house. She raced through the front door and up the stairs.

“Devon!” Screaming his name, Lilly ran down the hallway, giving each room a fleeting glance until she found all the men huddled in a small parlor. Looking to the floor, she found Danderfield lying in a pool of blood, his eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling.

“Lilly!”

Cam called to her from the right. He was crouched beside Dev, both hands on his brother's chest as he tried to stop the blood flowing from a bullet he had obviously taken.

“Dear God, no,” Cam cried, lowering his head over his brother.

“Dev!” Eden was next to scream as she and Essie dropped down beside their brother. “Tell me he's all right, Cam!”

Lilly stumbled forward, falling to her knees beside the man she loved.

No, no, no. This can't be happening, not to him, not Devon.

“Everyone out,” Lilly heard James roar, and then the door slammed shut.

“He's not breathing.” Cam's words were desperate. “Danderfield caught us by surprise, he said he was surrendering, and then—”

“No!” Lilly cried. “He's not leaving me, he promised.” Biting the end of her finger, she wrenched off her gloves. “I won't let him leave me.”

“Lilly.” James moved to her side as he reached out to haul his wife close. “He has stopped breathing, Lilly. There is nothing we can do.”

“No, I don't believe that.” Lilly tore open his shirt, sending buttons in every direction. She felt a fierce surge of strength pulse through her. “He wouldn't leave me, he promised.”

She could hear the siblings crying, sobbing for their brother, but Lilly shut them out. Her focus was the man lying still before her. He would not leave her, she vowed silently.

“I need you all to touch me. I want your hands on my hands.”

“Lilly, please, he is gone.”

“No, he is not!” she roared. “James, I need you to kneel behind me, and do not let me stop until he is healed. I mean it, you must promise me this.”

She felt her cousin move behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, bracing her between his knees.

“Cam, Eden, and Essie, I need your strength. I need you to focus on your brother. He needs you now.” From somewhere she found calm, the pain inside her pushed aside to focus on what she must do.

“Come before me and place your hands over mine.”

They did as she asked, and she fought not to let the desperate sorrow in their eyes weaken her. Placing her hands over the wound, she focused.

“You will not leave me,” she vowed. “Hold me tight, James.”

“I promise,” he said softly.

“Concentrate now,” she whispered, closing her eyes and willing the panic to recede. “Focus on our hands.” Slowly, her fingers began to tingle as heat sparked up her arms. Beneath her fingers, Dev began to twitch.

“Dear God, Lilly, something is happening. I felt his body move,” Cam said.

She couldn't speak just gritted her teeth and kept her hands over the wound. Her body began to shake and the pain struck at her, swift and strong. She felt James use all his strength to hold her there when her body shook and shuddered for release.

“It's hurting her!” he roared.

The pain was almost too much to bear, yet she held still until she felt the bullet beneath her palm.

“He's breathing,” Eden sobbed. “Lilly, you saved him.”

Turning over her bloodied palm, Lilly held out the bullet. Seconds later she slumped forward onto Devon's chest, unconscious.

Lilly could hear voices as she drifted slowly to the surface. She had no wish to open her eyes, as this blissful state was wonderful.

“Open your bloody eyes, woman!”

“Dev, stop that. She will wake when she is ready.”

“She has been sleeping for two days, Essie. It's enough. She should wake up now!”

“She needs the sleep, brother. Her body needs to heal itself. Saving you took everything she had and more.”

“Christ.” Lilly heard the breath hiss from Devon's mouth. “Just wake up, my love, please.”

She felt his fingers on her cheek, so soft she wanted to purr at the feeling. Instead, she forced herself of open her eyes.

“Lilly.” His arms slipped beneath her and she was pulled to his chest. “God, you scared me.”

“I'm all right.” Her voice sounded raspy and unused. “Just so tired.” Lilly wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her hair, stroked her back and anywhere else he could reach.

“A-are you well, Devon?”

“Completely, thanks to you.” He lay her back on the bed then sat beside her hip, and she had her first look at him.

Unshaven, his face was lined with fatigue, green eyes shadowed, but to her he was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

“You are tired.” Lilly ran a finger beneath his eyes. “Are you telling me the truth? You are well?”

“I have no scars or marks. My heart is sound, love. Feel it.” He pulled his shirt free, then took her hand and slipped it beneath.

Lilly felt the heat from his body tingle through her palm.

“You saved me, Lilly, and for that I will be forever grateful. Yet I will not allow it again. Never again will I see you drained of life as you were when I regained consciousness. You have slept in this room for two days, unmoving in that bed until I thought you would never again wake.”

“Had I been run over by a carriage, the pain would have been less,” she whispered. “I felt as if someone had drained the blood from my veins and air from my lungs, and then suddenly there was darkness.”

“You were so pale. We had to get James to carry you from Danderfield's house, saying you had fainted in distress over my condition. Then we had to fabricate another lie that the bullet had, in fact, hit a flask in my pocket and the blood was merely from a flesh wound.”

“I would do it again to save you, Devon, and you cannot ask different of me.”

“We do not know what price you pay for this healing, Lilly. What harm this does to your body.” He braced his hands on either side of her head. “I have been scared before, but seeing you like that will be etched in my memory for some time.”

“I didn't want to live without you. Promise you will never leave me again, Devonshire Sinclair. I have no wish to dwell in the darkness with no light in my soul and no love in my heart, as I did before you entered my life.”

“I promise,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Are you sure about this? Because I can turn the carriage around and we can make a run for it.”

“Very amusing, Nicholas,” Lilly said from her position beside him.

They were traveling up Raven mountain and would shortly arrive at the church where she was finally to wed Devon.

“There is something off about that family, though.”

“Off how?” Lilly looked at her handsome brother.

They had come so far since her abduction, and still had a lot to learn about each other, but she knew now he was a changed man.

Dressed in a charcoal coat and matching waistcoat, he seemed whole and healthy now. The cynical smile had gone, and he was often found with a genuine one in its place.

“I spoke with the magistrate after Dev's shooting. He said he was sure the man was dead, but then he appeared in the doorway, walking, although he was supported by his brother.”

“You know what happened, Nicholas.” Lilly looked out the window. She had never been a good liar and had no wish for her brother to see that.

A month had passed since that day when she had healed Devon, and every minute spent in his company, her love for the handsome, infuriating man grew.

“Yes, but there are other things too. Take Eden, for example. She's always hearing things others do not, and Cam seems to sniff the air a lot. Don't tell me you haven't noticed?”

“Actually, I haven't.”

“Oh well, perhaps I'm making more of it than need be. I like them, by the way; they just appear a little odd at times.”

“They are wonderful, as is James and his family.”

“Yes, it's nice to have them all in our lives.” He smiled at her. “You look stunning, sister.”

“Thank you, brother.”

Her dress was cream-embroidered muslin with a small train, and it was simple yet beautiful. Bee had styled her hair in soft ringlets and she wore a small circlet of flowers.

“We are here.”

“Oh, I wasn't nervous before, but now I am,” Lilly said, pressing a hand to her stomach, where butterflies seemed to have taken up residence.

“I love you, you know. Never forget that, sister.”

“Oh, Nicholas.” Lilly started to cry. “I love you too.”

“For pity’s sake, don't weep, woman. Sinclair will thrash me if I upset you today of all days.”

Lilly sniffed and then allowed Nicholas to help her down. Eden and Essie awaited her, along with Dorrie, Somer, and Samantha, who were hopping from foot to foot in their pink dresses. Warwick was looking bored.

This was it, she thought, this was the moment he became hers, and she and Nicholas officially became part of their family. She could hardly wait.

Dev was sick of waiting. He wanted his future wife, and he wanted her now.

“Not long now, Sinclair.”

“Why must the bride always be late, Raven?”

James and Cam stood beside him, both appearing calm when he was a seething mass of nerves.

“It's tradition, I believe.”

“Made up by the bride to torment the groom,” Cam added.

Dev looked to the door again, but this time, it was not empty. His little brother and sisters and Samantha were there.

“I do believe the guests just sighed,” James whispered.

“They are sweet to be fair,” Cam added.

Dev said nothing as he watched Eden and Essie appear, both looking beautiful in blue. But it was the woman behind them that caught and held his attention. On the arm of her brother was his Lilly.

“Brides always look extraordinarily beautiful, don't you think, James?”

He heard Cam whisper the words but Dev could not draw his eyes from the woman who was soon to be his wife. She was beautiful, but it wasn't just that, it was what lay between them. They shared a bond that he knew could never be broken. She was his life, and he knew he was hers.

“Inhale, Sinclair. It would not do for you to faint here, in front of so many distinguished guests.”

Dev did as James suggested, filling his lungs before exhaling slowly as Lilly started the walk to him.

She would be his soon. He would wake with her in his arms and go to sleep the same way. He would see her at the breakfast table, travel with her in his carriage. He could kiss her sweet mouth if he wanted, right there in the middle of the day. Lord, he could not wait.

“Sinclair.” Nicholas nodded to Dev when they arrived.

“Braithwaite.”

“Hello, Devon,” Lilly whispered.

He smiled, and then leaned in to kiss her cheek, much to the enjoyment of the guests.

“Hello, my love.”

The service began, the children fidgeted, and their vows were made, and when it was done, Dev drew in another deep, steadying breath and turned to kiss his wife.

“You can't escape me now, Lady Sinclair.”

“I'm sure it's not the thing to be this happy.” She laughed, the smile lighting her beautiful eyes. “But I don't care.”

“Neither,” he lowered his head, “do I.”

The kiss was interrupted by Warwick, who declared that Lilly must travel with him to the castle. The twins and Samantha decided they had no wish to be left out, so Dev found himself in the carriage with his wife pressed to his side while three little girls and one boy chatted incessantly.

And there was quite honestly no place he would rather be.

…

Touched By Danger

Chapter One

The sour taste in her mouth was so sudden, Essex Sinclair had no time to brace for the trouble that was about to descend.

“Forgive the inconvenience, madam, but I am about to die in your garden.”

Essie leapt to her feet as a large body crashed face-first into her recently planted herbs.

“Cam, Bertie!” she screamed, dropping to her knees beside the man. Pushing her hands beneath his body, she struggled to turn him over. “Come quickly!”

She heard the thud of feet, then several curses rent the air.

“God’s blood, Essie, this had better be good!” her brother roared as he approached. “Your scream had me hurling the entire contents of my mug over Myrtle’s head. She is not pleased!”

“Help me, Cam!”

He dropped to his knees at her side.

“Christ, is he dead?”

“He fell”—turning, Essie noted a horse now eating the heads of her carrots—“off his horse.” Grunting, she used all her force while Cam pulled from the opposite side. The man rolled and resettled on more of her rosemary, sending a waft of spicy scent into the air.

“He’s a big brute,” Cam muttered. “And considering the oaks we already have in this family, that is saying a great deal.”

He was a big brute, Essie thought, reaching for his head to begin examining. Parting the thick, tawny locks, she searched his scalp for bumps or wounds.

“Miss Essex?”

“‘I am all right, Bertie, but we have an injured man.”

“Myrtle came into the kitchen with such haste, she collided with the wall, so I feared something was not right.”

Bertie and his brother Josiah Hemple worked for the Sinclair family. He appeared beside the man’s feet, his usually smiling face lined with worry.

“It’s his side, Essie.”

Cam had opened the man’s jacket, and she saw the white of his shirt was stained red to the left of his stomach.

Ripping the shirt open, Essie saw the bullet hole, blood pouring from the wound.

“We have to stop the blood flow, Cam. He’ll likely die if not. And that’s if the shock doesn’t take him. We must get him into the surgery now. Lift under his arms, Bertie and I will take his legs.”

They soon had him off the ground.

“Move, Myrtle!” Cam roared at the shaggy dog that barred his way. “I’m sorry for your soaking, but perhaps your glower would be better aimed at my sister, as it was her fault.”

Essie shot the animal a look. Her usually fluffy hair was smashed flat on her head, and she did not look pleased.

“We shall clean you soon, Myrtle,” Essie said gently, which earned her a tail wag.

It was slow going, and even with three of them they labored with the man’s big body. Finally they staggered through the doors of the home she had been born in, and down the hallway where paintings of her family hung in wooden frames, and marks bore proof of the seven children who had lived there.

The treatment room had been set up for her patients and would have everything she needed to help the man. Laying their burden on the table, they all drew in several deep breaths.

“L-lord, I thought your brothers were big men,” Bertie rasped.

“He’s got a few pounds on us,” Cam said.

“I know, look at his feet, they hang over the end,” Essie added, looking at the large leather boots. “Go and boil water now please, Bertie, and tell Josiah when he returns to make up Dev’s bed. None of the patient beds will be big enough.”

“Tell me what to do, sister,” Cam said, stepping to the other side of the treatment table as Essie studied the injury. The bullet hole was on the left side under the ribs, and a steady stream of blood still trickled from the wound. Even if the bullet had hit nothing vital, there was still the risk of infection. She would need to clean the area quickly, and if needed remove the bullet.

“Lift him, Cam, and I will see if the bullet has gone through.”

Cam did as she asked, and Essie saw no exit wound. However, what she did see made her sick to her stomach.

“Dear Lord.”

Lash marks crisscrossed his back from left to right, top to bottom.

“There are so many,” Essie whispered in horror.

Her brother studied the marks. “He’s either a very bad man, or been sorely mistreated.”

“No man has a right to do this to another, Cam. No matter their crimes.”

“Some punishments befit the crime.”

“Not this.” She traced a finger over a welt. “They are old, and it’s my guess happened when he was but a child.”

“Now that is a crime,” Cam said, and she heard the anger in his words. “No child deserves that.”

“The bullet will need to be removed.”

“Oh joy.” Her brother lowered the man back to the table. “Just my luck I was the sibling present when you required a nurse. ’Tis my fondest wish that he stays unconscious until you’ve finished, because restraining this hulking man will not be easy.”

Gathering what she needed from her supplies, Essie was ready when Bertie returned with a pot of steaming water.

“We need to wash the area now, Cam, and remove the blood, then douse the injury in alcohol.”

“Must we? It seems such a waste.” Cam took the bottle from her hands and took a large, fortifying swig.

Together they set about cleaning the man and stripping off his remaining clothes. Pulling the sheet to his waist, Essie studied the small bullet hole. She would need to make it bigger. She picked up her scalpel and made a small incision. Cam made gagging noises.

“Surely by now you have been exposed to enough blood and various other body fluids to be able to cope with a few more.”

“Certain body fluids I am more than happy to share, others I am not.”

“I cannot believe you just said that to me,” Essie said, concentrating on the incision. “You are a vulgar man.”

“I have no idea what you were thinking, sister, and if it is what I think, then shame on you.”

Essie snuffled. She and her sibling were not the type to cosset each other, nor hide their feelings. In fact, they spoke exactly what they wanted, when they wanted to.

“Mop up the blood with a clean pad, Cam.”

His large hand did so gently.

“If Lord Sinclair was here, he’d bang both your heads together,” Bertie said from the foot of the bed.

“Ah, but he is not, therefore we are at liberty to speak as we wish, Bertie,” Cam said.

“Now I need to find the bullet.”

“Have you done this before, Ess?”

“Yes, four times, and it’s never pleasant. Hand me those forceps.”

“Yes, doctor.”

It was not an easy task digging around for a small piece of lead. It could have gone anywhere, and done considerable damage. Blood started pumping, and Cam staunched it as best he could. Bertie stood in readiness to hand them whatever was required.

“It’s like eeling in the pond,” Essie muttered.

“You have no idea what’s beneath you?”

“Yes.” Relief made her knees weak as she located the bullet and eased it from his body, but as it pulled free, the blood started flowing fast.

“I need your strength now, Cam. Hurry! I’m not sure this man will live the night if I do not succeed in staunching the blood flow.”

Cam came to her side. His hand slipped beneath her hair and touched the back of her neck. She felt the shiver of power that came when her siblings touched her. They were stronger together, and had proved it many times.

She applied pressure, and several tense minutes later the blood flow eased.

“Thank God,” Essie whispered. Now the imminent danger had passed, she felt fear grip her, as it always did when a patient’s life was in her hands.

“I’m proud to have you as my sister, Essex Sinclair.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and the hand on her neck squeezed gently. He softly kissed her head.

She cleaned the wound and doused it in spirits once more.

“Such a small thing to cause so much pain and heartache.” Essie inspected the bullet.

“A necessary evil I’m afraid, sister dear.”

Essie quickly closed the hole with seven neat stitches, and then placed a clean pad over it while she got what she needed to bandage it.

“I always get a jolt when I see you doing things like this,” Cam said. She glanced up at him. The Sinclair green eyes were studying her intently.

Like all seven siblings, he had dark hair. Tall, he was not as large as their eldest brother, Dev, but still a considerable height and weight.

“You’re the gentle sister. The one we go to when we need an ‘awww, there there, everything is all right,’ so when I see you extracting a bullet from an unconscious man, it throws me.”

“Awww, there there, brother, everything will be all right.”

Cam snorted. “But seriously, you’re amazing, Essie. I just wanted you to know.”

“I’ll take that compliment, and I love you too, brother.”

Now she needed to check for further injuries. Taking her first real look at him, Essie studied the still face. A thick mane of tawny hair would reach his shoulders when upright. His skin was tanned, suggesting hours spent in the sun. The sharp edges and lines of his cheekbones were more exposed with him lying down, and could have been carved from stone. His nose was crooked and large, dark lashes were thick. His chest was broad and defined with muscle; bending for a closer look, Essie noted several old scars on his torso. Some crisscrossed, others were straight. This man had lived a hard life, was her guess.

“A seaman, perhaps?” Cam said. He turned over the man’s hands and saw they had callouses. “Some form of manual labor is my guess. The marks to his body suggest this man has seen some tough times in his life.”

“Do you recognize him at all, Cam?”

“No, never seen him before. But one thing I do know is that if he lives, it is solely due to you.”

Had he deserved his fate? Shaking her head, Essie pushed that thought aside. No one deserved to be shot and die as a result. Or maybe some did. She thought back to one man who had deserved that and more.

“Maybe you could get him something to wear, Cam?”

“It’s not enough that I must help patch him up, I must now clothe him also?” he tutted. She watched him turn, then stop.

“I said I was sorry, Myrtle. Have mercy and forgive me, sweetheart.”

“Is she looking at you?”

“With eyes that suggest I have taken her last bone,” Cam muttered. “I have to say her hair like that reminds me of Squire Fudge. You know he has it carefully arranged to cover the bald patches.”

Essie rolled her eyes as her brother left the room, and returned to the man. She started with his head and then worked slowly down his body. He was a handsome devil, and for the first time in many months, a flutter in her pulse made her aware of just how handsome. But she no longer cared for that. Her first and only experience with a man had ended in disaster. He had been handsome, and she’d thought kind. Words had flowed from his mouth and hypnotized her.

“And I will never again allow that to happen,” she whispered. “No man will make a fool of me a second time.”

When she was sure the bullet wound was the only injury, she took a small bowl and began to walk down her rows of jars, selecting the ingredients for the tisane she would try and pour down his throat. She mixed them with a small amount of hot water, then set it on the rack to stay warm. Next she prepared something for the pain he was sure to wake with... if he woke.

“Christ!”

Essie hurried back to her patient at his gruff curse. His eyes were open, the tawny brown depths filled with pain. She’d seen eyes like that before, in a painting of a lion. The sun was lowering in the sky, but there was still enough light from the windows to pick up the flecks of amber in the iris. Essie was used to the unusual, being from a family that stood outside what was termed normal, yet she had never seen eyes like this on a human. In fact, this man was surely a lion in every way, big and strong. She could feel the power beneath her fingers as she touched the cords of muscle in his arms to soothe him.

“I will give you something for the pain. Rest now,” Essie said in the gentle voice she reserved for her patients.

“Who are you?” His fingers wrapped around her wrist and held her as she would have turned away. The grip was surprisingly strong, considering his injury.

“Miss Sinclair, sir. Now do not move, as you will start the wound bleeding again. Release me please.”

He did, and she placed an arm beneath his shoulders and helped him upright.

“A few mouthfuls will help with the pain.”

He drank and then wrinkled his nose.

“More.”

“It is foul.”

“And yet good for you, so you will drink every drop.” Essie had three brothers and three sisters, and she had coaxed even the most reluctant of her siblings to take medicine when required.

His eyes looked at her over the rim as he did what she asked. The tawny depths were intent as he studied her. Ignoring the flutter in her pulse, she lay him back on the bed.

“Rest now,” Essie soothed, brushing the hair from his forehead in a gesture as natural as breathing to her.

“Where am I?”

“Oak’s Knoll is my home, and sits at the foot of Raven Mountain.”

“Someone tried to kill me,” he rasped, pain filling his incredible eyes as he attempted to move. “I must leave here now.”

“I have just removed a bullet from your side, sir; to move now would be foolish indeed. Therefore, please lie still while I finish dressing your wound.”

Essie felt his eyes on her as she walked back to her supplies to get the jar of her special paste. Returning once again, she said, “This may cause you some discomfort when I apply it, but I fear without it the risk of infection is greater.”

He nodded but remained silent, and she began to apply the paste to the wound. He winced, but otherwise remained still until she had finished, not an easy task for anyone. Her siblings usually moaned and made a lot of fuss when she applied it to their cuts. This man, however, understood pain; his back had shown her that. Their eyes met and held, and something passed between them. Attraction? Awareness? Essie didn’t know what it was, but it was unsettling. She was relieved Cam chose that moment to walk back into the room.

“I have a nightshirt of Dev’s that should fit. No point in using mine when I don’t have to.”

“This is my brother, Mr. Sinclair,” Essie said.

“Hello.” Cam leaned over him.

The man studied him for several seconds before nodding.

“Can you give me your name?”

“Max.”

“And I am Cam, and this is Essex.”

It was natural for Cam to give their first names here in Oak’s Knoll. In London, they were Mr. and Miss Sinclair, but not here.

“Lift him up so I can bandage the wound, Cam.”

Max flinched as she touched his back, but Essie kept her expression calm, giving no indication she had seen the welts. He grunted as she eased her hand beneath his waist, but did not move as she finished bandaging him.

“I must leave here tonight.”

“If you leave you will make it no further than the gate, sir, and will probably undo all the work I have done.”

“Be a silly move, old man, to leave now when you’re in this state. Best to listen to my sister’s advice, as she has just fished out a bullet and stitched you up. In all likelihood she has just saved your life.”

“Yet I must try,” he said, starting to rise.

“Is there danger here for you and us?” Cam asked.

“No.” Max shook his head. “But still I must go.”

Essie watched the blanket slip, and reached to help him, but her hand touched his side and he yelped and fell back on the bed, his breathing harsh.

“Y-you did that on p-purpose.”

“I would never willingly hurt someone!” Essie gasped. He glared at her, and then his eyes rolled up in his head as he once again slumped into unconsciousness.

“Well,” Cam said, “at least he’s out, so we can move him to the bed now.”

“He accused me of hurting him.” Essie looked down at the man. “As if I would do such a thing.”

“Ungrateful is what he is. Now here is Bertie, we shall carry him to Dev’s room.”

Between them they soon had him dressed and settled in their brother’s bed.

“And now you will both come away and eat something, especially you, Miss Essex, as I’m sure it will be a long night.”

“Lord yes, I’ve been smelling whatever you have cooking for the last few hours,” Cam said.

Nodding to Bertie, she gave the patient one last look, and left the room behind her brother.

Josiah and Bertie Hemple had lived with the Sinclair family for as long as Essie could remember. Both widowed, they had come because Essie’s uncle wanted someone looking after his nieces and nephews that he trusted. Especially as their own father could not be relied upon to provide for his children. Now that they only resided here for a few months of the year, and then only she and Cam, and sometimes their little siblings, the brothers had the house to themselves for most of the year.

Her brother had also insisted that for propriety’s sake she bring her maid, Grace, with her from London. So often when she was here alone, there were three servants watching over her. Ridiculous, as she had pointed out, but Devon, her eldest brother, would not yield in this. He was extremely protective of his family.

“Do you think the fever will take hold?” Josiah asked as he placed a bowl filled with the enticing aromas of beef stew in front of Essie. He was a replica of his brother; both men were of average height and of stout build, with gray hair.

They sat at a sturdy wooden table near the fire in the dining room. The table still bore the marks of their childhood, and she felt the usual pang of longing for the rest of her siblings as she looked at it, remembering a time when they had been seated like peas in a pod.

“I hope not, but in truth there is no way of knowing.”

“Eat the bread too,” Josiah said, nudging it closer to her plate.

“There is no equal to you in this, Josiah,” Cam said, spooning in a large mouthful. “I have found nothing in London to match this stew.”

“And believe me, he has tried,” Essie said. She took a mouthful and let her senses adjust to the taste as she identified each ingredient. Like her siblings, Essie had a heightened sense, and hers was taste. Anything too sweet or sour, anything off, would taste twice, three times as strong as it would for other people. She was always careful to take a small bite of anything new to ensure her senses would not be overwhelmed with what she was eating.

“It’s a simple stew, Miss Essex, have no fear.”

“I never fear when you are cooking, Josiah.”

Cam sniffed the air and sighed. His heightened sense was smell; he was like a bloodhound when walking the streets of London. Woman who wore too much scent made him shudder, and food that was off made him turn green.

“We are to leave for London soon, Essie.”

“I will need to ensure he has recovered fully, Cam. Surely you can see that?”

“We shall discuss this tomorrow evening, and remember Aunt has her ball coming up; and needs our help with preparations.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Essie said. “Aunt has been organizing balls since before we were born. She just said she wanted our help to lure us back to London to attend.”

Her brother smiled, flashing his white teeth. It softened his face and removed the cynical edge he often wore. Life had played its hand on the Sinclairs, but none more so than Cam.

“Likely you’re right, but as I wish to attend I have no problem with that.”

“I know you have a particular liking for Miss Priscilla Partridge, which is why you wish to return to London, and I would not want to stand in the way of true love,” Essie teased her brother.

“Indeed, she is a lovely young woman,” Cam mused as he used a large chunk of bread to clean his bowl. “However, there is that small matter of her perfume, which is off-putting.”

“It’s perfume, Cam, not body odor.”

“True,” he mused. “And she does have nice... eyes.”

Essie snorted, knowing full well that Miss Priscilla Partridge had large breasts.

“I pity the poor woman who eventually ends up with you as her husband.”

“She will be a woman envied by many. I am considered something of a catch, you know.”

His black hair needed a trim and hung over his eyes, his shirt was open at the neck, and he wore no waistcoat. They were always like that here, and never stood on ceremony. He looked handsome and healthy, and as the latter was not something he had always been, her heart was happy to see it.

“Really? I wonder when that happened, as on my last visit to London I heard nothing to indicate it was the case.”

“Heartless wretch, you know very well I am in high regard.”

“And so humble.”

Cam smiled, and she understood what set young ladies giggling. There was a wicked glint in his green eyes that could not quite be trusted. Of course she would trust him with her life, but she was not a silly young lady, just his sister.

“Myrtle adores me, anyway. I just fed her some stew, and all is forgiven.”

“You’ll not be feeding that hairy beast from my table.” Josiah scowled.

“That is no way to talk about your brother, Josiah.” Cam winked at Bertie as he got to his feet. “Now, if my nursing duties are over, I shall retire and get an early night. I must look my best for our return to London.”

“I can’t leave him if he is not well, Cam.”

He kissed her head. “I know, love, but he may be stable in a day or two, and then Josiah and Bertie can watch over him. Make sure you get some sleep.”

“I will.” Essie squeezed the hand he held out to her. They had grown closer since Dev and Eden, their siblings, had both wed. Their younger siblings were still in the schoolroom.

She watched his tall form leave the room as her thoughts returned to her aunt and uncle’s ball. She knew they were hosting the event in hopes of finding her a husband. Of course she’d told them she had no wish to marry, but her aunt did not believe her.

It was all right for Cam to be still unwed, as he was a man and therefore it did not matter when he chose to marry, as time was on his side. She, however, was fast approaching spinsterhood, which pleased her, but no one else. Ignoring the pang of disappointment that she would never have a family of her own, she too got to her feet. She would have her siblings’ children to spoil, and that would be enough.

“That was a wonderful meal, thank you, and now I will check the patient.”

“And no doubt we will find you there in the morning,” Josiah said.

“I shall try to find my bed, I promise,” Essie lied. “Tell Grace not to wait for me,” she added, knowing that otherwise her maid would have a long wait.

She carried a candle down the hall to Dev’s room. Heading straight to the bed, she found the patient sleeping. Laying a hand on his forehead, she felt the heat. Not too hot, and yet hotter than he should be. She hoped this did not mean a fever was coming. She checked the bandage, and found it was still clean.

Expelling a breath she had not known she was holding, Essie decided to read for a while, and then she would wake him to take more medicine. She reached for a medical treatise, and sank into the deep chair that her brother had often sat in while reading to his younger siblings. Soon she was lost in the world of medicine, one of her favorite places to be.

Chapter Two

Something woke Essie. Stretching, she knew instantly where she was, as she had spent many nights sitting with her patients. Stoking the fire back to life, she then lit the branch of candles she had put beside her chair and carried it with her to check on the patient.

The noise had come from him. He was thrashing about on the bed.

“Damn!”

He was shivering; fever had taken hold. Checking the wound, she found it seeping, and quickly got her supplies. She took off the bandages, cleaned the wound, and applied a fresh pad with salve on it.

“You must stay calm.” She talked to him as she worked. Once finished, she bandaged it again, although this time it was not as easy, as the man was now shivering violently.

His pulse was rapid and he was rolling his head from side to side. Gathering all the blankets she could, Essie piled them on top of him and then found two bricks to heat. She ran into her surgery and grabbed more herbs to bring down the fever.

She spent the next hour forcing liquid down his throat and placing bricks around his body, but nothing seemed to be warming him up. She feared for his heart if he did not stop shaking, but could think of little else to do. She felt helpless in the face of his obvious distress. Had her siblings been here they would have helped. She could wake Cam, his strength added to hers—

“H-help m-me.”

“I am trying.” She took the hand he held out to her and squeezed it in reassurance. “You must try and hold still, or you will tear your stitches.”

“S-s-so c-cold.”

Not giving herself time to think, Essie stripped off her dress, shoes, and stockings. Clad only in a thin chemise, she pulled aside the covers and climbed beneath. Making her way to where he lay beneath the mound of blankets, she took a deep breath, and careful to avoid his bullet wound, she lay along his good side and wrapped her arms around him. Placing her leg over his, she tried to warm him.

“Try to calm your breathing,” she whispered as she lay her head on his chest. “Let me warm you.”

His body was shuddering so hard Essie thought it was only a matter of time until his heart stopped beating.

“T-talk t-to me.”

He could barely speak. His teeth banged together hard.

“I’m one of seven,” Essie began. She told him of her family and the others that had joined it, James and Lilly, and how the additions had only strengthened what they already had.

“We’re different,” she said softly. “The seven of us are not like other people. And I’m not as strong as them.” Essie wasn’t sure why she had said those words. Perhaps because for so long they had rolled around inside her head, gaining momentum. Or perhaps because she knew that the man would remember nothing of what she had told him in the morning. Whatever the reason, it felt good to finally speak her thoughts.

She was the weak Sinclair. The one who was just so much less than the others. Looks, personality, and even her heightened sense. She knew, and was sure her siblings did too, although they were too nice to say anything on the matter. But the truth was, she did sometimes feel unworthy.

And you’re pathetic for thinking it.

“It’s like I’m the pale version of them,” she whispered. Looking at the man, she saw his eyes were closed. He hadn’t heard her, which she knew was a good thing. People would never understand about the Sinclairs and their senses. Even she sometimes struggled with what they could do.

His shivers were easing, and soon she would get off the bed. As soon as he was completely still. Yawning, Essie thought she would wait a few more minutes and then find her own bed.

Max was warm to his toes. His left side burned from the bullet hole he had received yesterday, but his right felt warm in a nice way. Opening his eyes, he looked to see what was pressed to it.

Curls the color of midnight lay across his chest, and then he remembered Essex Sinclair, the beautiful healer who had saved his life. The memory of her climbing onto the bed and warming him flashed through his head. She had heated him with her body and soothed him with her gentle words, telling him stories of her family and the hopes and dreams she had for her little home, and he had heard every one. She’d said she was different, as was her family, and he wondered what she’d meant.

She’d also told him she was not as strong as her siblings, and he wanted to know what she meant by that too.

Max remembered the first blissful contact of her body. The heat had been instant, almost magical, as if something had flowed from her into him, a healing warmth had banished the wracking shudders from his body.

One leg was draped over his thighs, and a hand on his chest, as if she was keeping him in place. A lover, determined her man stay exactly where she wanted him. Max almost wished that he had not slept, so he could have enjoyed every second of her lush body pressed to his.

He studied the long, elegant fingers with her short, clean nails, and something moved inside him. An uneasy feeling swept over him that this woman was in some way important to him. He pushed it aside. Max didn’t collect people in his life, and no one had ever found a special place inside him, nor would they. He felt gratitude and nothing more. It was simply because he was weak at the moment; the feeling would pass.

He picked up her hand. Such strength flowed from those fingers, and she had used them to heal him; it was a humbling thought. She had never met him before yesterday, yet had taken him into her home and cared for him with her body and her mind.

He remembered male voices, and knew there was a brother. Was there also a husband, perhaps? The thought was not a pleasing one, which confused him more. Max didn’t care about people, especially not women. If she had ten husbands, and as many lovers, it was no concern of his.

She had forced vile concoctions down his throat last night until finally he had begged her to help him rid his body of the ice that chorused through his veins. Seconds later he had felt the blessed heat of her lying on top of him.

Taking care not to wake her, Max pushed a tangle of curls from her face. She slumbered deeply, and her exhaustion was evident in the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her skin was tinged with gold, no doubt from many hours spent outside tending the garden he had fallen in. He followed the sweet tilt of her nose and full lips. She was a beautiful woman, this Essex Sinclair. His eyes studied the delicate curve of one ear then continued down to the tip of her chin and below. One of her breasts was pushed high, the creamy swell rising above the edge of her chemise, and Max’s fingers itched to touch the flesh. In fact, his body was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had a near naked woman in his arms. Clenching his fingers briefly, he fought the urge to touch.

He’d never experienced such a need before, to possess a woman. An urgency to know her better.

Perhaps he had taken a knock to the head also, Max thought, and it had muddled his thinking.

He touched a soft cheek, and she woke slowly, like a petal unfurling to the sun’s rays. Her lashes fluttered, her fingers curled into his chest, and then she stretched slowly, inch by delectable inch of her body moving sensually against his, and it was like an erotic form of torture. He realized the exact instant she became aware of her surroundings because all the softness fled, replaced by tension. Tipping her head back, she looked up at him, and the impact of her gaze travelled through his body like a bolt of lightning.

He had travelled miles over waters, and their depths had held the color of those eyes. Blue-green and rimmed with darker blue, they held his for several seconds. Her mouth opened, and before she could speak he had dragged her up his body and kissed her. Soft, Max thought, and incredibly sweet.

Christ!

Just a brush of his lips over hers left his head spinning. Blood pounded through him, and he wanted more of her. Needed more.

“Open for me,” he rasped against her lips. She yielded, and he deepened the contact. Cupping her head, he explored her thoroughly.

“No.” She wrenched her mouth free.

Breathless, they stared at each other for long seconds.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered, and then she tore herself from his arms and began to scramble backward, burrowing through the covers like a frantic mole searching for the edge. Max guessed she found it, as seconds later there was a thump.

“Are you all right?” he questioned, moving gingerly to the edge. His side burned with the effort, just as his body still burned for her. Looking down, he found her on her bottom. Her chemise had ridden up, showing him the delicious curves of her thighs, and he looked his fill before she slapped down the hem and quickly climbed to her feet.

“Please avert your eyes, sir.”

“Not if you handed me ten gold pieces,” he said, watching the flush travel up her neck.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Max guessed that was because she had woken pressed to his side and he had just kissed her. And hell, what a kiss. His body was still painfully aroused. The woman had set him on fire.

“You, sir, are no gentleman to watch a lady dress when she has asked you not to. Th-then there is the m-matter of that kiss.”

“I am indeed no gentleman, Miss Essex, but I would ask you to try and stop any man from looking, considering the beauty you wear so effortlessly.” Max said the words as she dropped to her knees, appearing to search under the bed he lay in. Seconds later she was standing once again with a piece of gray wool in one hand. He watched as she efficiently bundled all that wonderful dark hair into a knot and tied the ends with two sharp tugs. “And that kiss was the inevitable result of waking with you in my arms. I defy you to state you did not enjoy it.”

She made a scoffing sound and came back to his side. Max ignored the kick his pulse gave as she stepped closer. The woman was dressed in rumpled clothes, her hair a mess, and had him more off-balance than all who had come before her. The beauty, Max realized, was in her bones. Hers was a powerful attraction to any unsuspecting—or injured—man.

“Don’t flatter me, sir. I neither want nor need it, and for your information, I-I did not enjoy that kiss.”

“Your stutter would suggest you lie, and I will state again that you are beautiful.”

She laid a cool palm on his forehead, and he felt the same jolt of awareness at her touch, almost as if he had been stung by something.

“You doubt my words, Miss Sinclair?”

She ignored him, instead reaching for his bandage. Easing her hands beneath, she removed it gently.

“I will make you something to take for the pain, and redress the wound, but I fear you will need to stay in bed for several days.”

“You did not answer my question.”

“I have no time for Banbury tales, sir.”

“My name is Max.”

“I know, you gave it to me last night. Do you have a last name?”

“Just Max, Essex.”

“I am Miss Sinclair.”

“You were Essie to me last night when you talked of your family, and your hopes and dreams.”

Her eyes went to his briefly and then away. He knew she wondered why he had no wish to share his last name, and in truth he was unsure. Very probably she had never heard of him. But right here and now, he simply wanted to be Max to this woman.

“I-I…. You heard everything?”

She wasn’t happy about that.

“Every word.”

Her fingers clenched briefly.

“Are you sure I cannot address you by your last name, sir? It is highly inappropriate of me to call you Max, as it is for you to call me Essex.”

“There is no name other than Max that I wish you to use, and I think we can dispense with proprieties between us, considering what has transpired, don’t you, Essex?”

“Is there anyone I can send word to come for you?”

He shook his head, having no wish for anyone to know his location and bring danger to her household. “I have no one.” After all, someone had tried to kill him, and as yet he had no idea who.

He saw the sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry that you are alone.”

“I have family in France, but we are estranged, and I like it that way,” Max said in a gruff tone. He’d always thought so, anyway.

“Possessions and wealth mean little in life, Max. Do not be ashamed if you have neither. But people, now they are important. Perhaps if you wrote to your family?”

She thought he was penniless. The irony would have made him laugh, were he the type to do so.

“I do not need people, nor do I wish to contact my family.”

Her smile was gentle. “Everyone needs someone.”

Max could lose himself in that smile. With very little effort on her part, the woman had captured and held his attention. Not an easy feat, considering the man he had become.

“Not I.”

His words hard been harsher than need be, and the smile dropped from her lovely lips.

“Well, I have people I do need, sir, and I would be grateful if you did not mention again any of what happened last night. I did what needed to be done to warm you, as I feared for both your wound and your heart. I have no wish for that to reach the ears of my family.”

Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked so sweet, Max clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her.

“I will tell no one, you have my word.”

She nodded, but he could tell she was not entirely convinced, and Max wondered who had broken her trust.

“I have taken out the bullet, but there is always a risk of infection, so please have a care, sir.”

She saw my back. The uncomfortable thought came to him suddenly. Max never let people see his scars. Even woman he bedded, he did so in the dark. He neither wanted sympathy nor needed it. That was part of Max’s life that he kept locked away deep inside him, in that dark dungeon that couldn’t hurt or make him weak anymore.

“Do you suffer at all from the welts on your back?”

“No.” How had she known what he was thinking? How was it he felt a closeness to this woman after less than a day in her company, and most of that time out of his head with pain?

“If you do, I may have something that will help you.”

“I need nothing for them and have no wish to discuss the matter further.”

“There is no shame in what you have suffered. The shame lay with those who hurt you.”

“How do you know I did not deserve them, Miss Sinclair?”

She studied him through those stunning green eyes, and Max felt the urge to throw the blanket over his head. He felt exposed before her, something he had not felt for many years.

“No child deserves to be punished in such a manner.”

He hadn’t deserved it, and had made his tormentor pay when he was strong enough to do so.

“I have never met a woman called Essex before.” Desperate to change the subject, yet wanting her to stay in the room, he latched on to his first thought.

“My family all have unusual names.” A small smile tilted her lips again.

“Names of places. How did that come about?”

“My parents travelled a great deal.”

“So they named you after the places they visited?”

She nodded. He had feeling there was more to the names than that but she did not elaborate.

“Devonshire, Essex, Cambridge, Eden, Somerset, Dorset, and Warwickshire.”

“You have an excellent memory, considering you were in pain and had a fever.”

“I rarely forget anything.”

“Both a curse and a blessing, I should imagine, sir.”

“You told me last night that you are different. Will you tell me in what way?”

“I shall make you something for the pain now,” she said, ignoring his question. Her words were brisk and nothing like the gentle tone she had used with him last night.

“Why do you not believe you are beautiful?” Max asked, instead of pursing the matter of her difference and why she believed herself to the be the weakest member of her family.

She turned away from him, but he heard her words.

“I know what I am, sir, therefore this conversation needs no further airing.”

Max watched her walk away, and his eyes were drawn to the sensual sway of her hips; the woman had no notion of her appeal. She was a bloody walking siren, he thought, adjusting the covers around his hips.

Glancing out the window, he looked at the mountain that loomed above the house. Not unlike when Essex Sinclair had touched him, he felt a jolt of awareness.

“That is Raven Mountain.”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it. Why had the name sent a shiver down his spine?

“It is impressive, is it not, sir?”

Max gave the mountain one last look before he made himself look at Essex Sinclair.

“It would take more than a mound of earth to impress me, Miss Sinclair.”

Chapter Three

Essie made herself finish caring for Max instead of following through with her first impulse, which was to flee. She cleaned away her things, and tried to ignore the fact that he was watching her every move. She felt his eyes on her as she bent to stoke the fire to life. They followed her across the room.

She had slept with a man who was neither family nor her husband. Good Lord, how did I allow that to happen?

“You warmed me with your body when nothing else worked, Essex. I beg of you not to be too hard on yourself... or me.”

How had he known her thoughts? She did not turn to face him. Instead, picking up the dirty bandages, she prepared to leave the room.

“Essex, you have my undying gratitude, and my pledge that should you need it, my help is there for you in any form.”

She had to look at him after those words. He lay against her brother’s pillows like some Greek god, large and tanned. The awareness that shimmered between them was entirely too disturbing.

He should look weak, and yes, he did have pain lines etched in his face, but for all that, he looked strong and healthy. Big, and she wanted to say formidable, but as she knew nothing about him, she could not form such an opinion... yet.

“I want nothing from you, sir. Tending you is no different from caring for my other patients. You have no need to say such things.”

“In my world, there is every need. I would have died had I not chanced upon you, therefore I am indebted to you, and I always pay my debts.”

Essie shook her head before turning away. “You owe me nothing. Now please excuse me. I will have someone come to you with water to wash, and something to eat.”

“But not you?”

“No. I will be back later to check on you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I must ask.” She turned at the door to look at him.

“Anything.”

“The person who shot you, do you think that danger will follow you here?” She needed to know, had to ask, as she could not put others in danger by caring for him.

“No. After I was shot I rode hard, and then hid in some trees. No one followed. But if you wish it, I will leave now.”

“That will not be necessary, if you have said we are safe.”

His lion eyes were suddenly intent.

“You would take the word of a stranger?”

Essie nodded. She didn’t know why she trusted him. Indeed, she had no reason to, and yet did.

“I would.”

She had surprised him into silence. As she left the room, Essie wondered what his story was. Who was he? Where had he come from? Had he no one that cared for him? No possessions or home? He had not stated otherwise when she questioned him. Did he simply find work where he could? Had he nothing binding him to a place? The thought made her feel sad.

“How is the patient this morning?”

Cam was walking down the stairs as she reached them.

“He’s better.” Essie had no wish to discuss the patient, or where she had spent the night.

“Your wrinkled clothing would suggest you spent the night in that bloody chair in Dev’s room, Essex. Tell me that is not the case, and that Grace just failed to press it?”

Looking her brother up and down, she took in his immaculate breeches and polished black hessians. His jacket was deep green, and his necktie immaculately folded.

“Yes, well, some of us care more for people than the way we are turned out,” Essie said, brushing her hands down her hopelessly creased skirts. “Are you going somewhere?”

“It is unavoidable, but I am going to the Mullinses to view a horse for Uncle, and you look like the bottom end of a mop.”

“I do not!”

“And your hair is tied with string. Tsk tsk, sister, you have let yourself go since leaving London.”

She looked up at his eyes and saw the wicked glint. Cam loved nothing better than getting a rise out of his siblings. Essie was tired, so today it was easier to accomplish than normal.

“I have no wish to be considered a dandy!”

Cam snorted. “Come now, dandy? Surely you can do better than that, especially as that term applies to men only. Forgive me if I have no wish to look”—he waved a hand up and down her body—“rumpled and unkempt.”

“You smell like a woman!” Essie stormed, because she could think of nothing better.

“That is untrue and you know it. I smell like a handsome, well-turned-out man who is irresistible to all females.”

Myrtle chose that moment to appear. She brushed passed Essie and stopped to sniff Cam’s boots. She then sneezed loudly and walked away.

“And there is the proof.” Essie found herself laughing. “Even the dog cannot stomach that stench.”

Cam sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “I had thought it pleasant when I purchased it in London, but perhaps....”

“Go.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard.

“You know, of course,” he said, wrapping his large arms around her and hugging her back, “that you are creasing my clothes.”

“It is a sister’s right to do so,” she mumbled, enjoying being held.

He sighed. “Very well, I shall endure it then.”

He took her face in his hands when she released him.

“Now, you have Josiah and Bertie, and Grace is here. But I think word should be sent to have Mrs. Beadle from the village come in while I am gone.”

“Why? You will return by nightfall, surely?”

“Yes, but there is a man here who I do not know.”

“He has a bullet wound and can barely leave his bed, Cam.” Essie pushed aside the fact that the man had looked far from invalided just moments before.

“I don’t care, what I care about is you.”

“Lovely though that sentiment is, there really is no need for Mrs. Beadle to come. So go and look at horses, and be sure to check it is not too short in the patterns.”

Cam snorted. “I love you for trying, darling, but I think you mean pastern.”

Essie was the Sinclair who did not like horses, unlike her siblings. She had been bitten by one as a child, and after that had declared they were large, smelly beasts she wanted no part of.

“Damn, I was sure I had that right.”

Cam snorted once more. “I shall now check on the patient and then be on my way.”

“He is sleeping, Cam, and I have no wish for you to wake him.”

He studied her, and she kept her face calm. No one could see through you quite like a sibling.

“Do remember not to sniff the air when you reach the Mullinses, it makes you look like one of the hounds.”

“I don’t sniff the air.”

“Not all the time, no,” Essie added.

He sighed. “I shall try, but as you can imagine it is hard when every smell is heightened to ten times that of what others smell.”

“Nose plugs,” Essie said, smiling. “We should really see about getting you some.”

“Yes, that would create something of a stir,” he drawled. “And on that note, I shall away. Be safe, darling, and I have spoken to the Hemples about one of them being with you from now on when you tend that man.”

“Oh, Cam—”

“He was shot, Essie. We have no idea why, or if he is a good or bad man, so you will take care, and not tend him unless a brother is with you. Promise me.”

He could go from silly to serious in seconds.

“Very well, I promise, but you will be gone but a few hours.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her nose and left. Essie closed the door behind him.

“How is the patient?”

“Better, thank you, Bertie, and in need of a wash and some breakfast. Keep the food soft and light if you please. Eggs and a little broth. Tea, not ale.”

“I will see to it.”

Essie ran to the stairs to her room. Once inside, she shut the door and moved to sit on her bed.

She closed her eyes and remembered waking, pressed to all that wonderful, warm, muscled flesh. Was that how married people who actually cared for each other woke most days? Did her siblings wake with their beloveds’ bodies close? The thought made her warm all over. Surely it would be a wonderful thing to wake in the arms of the man you loved. Not that she loved Max… or he her.

“He is a stranger, you fool!”

Disgusted with her thoughts because she had long ago given up on love, she began to pull off her clothes. He is nothing but a patient to you, she reminded herself.

The problem was awareness. Something sizzled in the air between them, and she could not deny that fact, even considering he was injured.

“I have brought you warm water for washing, Miss Essex.”

“Wonderful, thank you, Grace,” Essie said to her maid.

Grace had been with Essie for many years now, and she was a wonderful, sturdy soul who was rarely flustered, which was an asset in this family.

Essie hurried to wash, reminding herself she had no time in her life for foolish thoughts or fancies. She had given those up along with her hopes of everlasting love.

Changing into a clean dress, she let Grace braid her hair. Once she was presentable, Essie headed down to take her morning meal, determined to put all her silly thoughts behind her. She was a healer, and people relied upon her. She would help Max heal, and then see him off her property and never think of him and his lion eyes again.

Making her way back downstairs, she took tea with Bertie and made herself eat porridge with a dab of honey and milk. Josiah came back in when she was nearly finished.

“He’s not happy with the meal I placed before him. In fact, he said it wasn’t enough to keep a small boy alive, let alone a full-grown man. He then asked for ale.”

“There will be no ale,” Essie said slowly. “He will eat what is put before him or go hungry.”

“He’s not a child, Miss Essex.”

“I understand that, but he does have a bullet hole in him, and as I am the one who took it out and stitched him up, it is I who am responsible for him. If he has no wish to abide by the rules I set, then he can leave.”

“Perhaps you would like to inform him of that,” Bertie said, looking rueful.

“I shall. I shall also inform him if he is to stay here, then it must be under our rules.”

“Even on such short acquaintance I can see he is not a biddable man, Miss Essex. In fact, he reminds me a great deal of your brothers.”

“Lord save us all.” Essie sighed as she regained her feet. “Did he ask you to inform anyone of his whereabouts, Josiah?”

“No, he said there was no one who would miss him.”

Essie refused to feel sad about the fact that Max had no one to worry about him. Instead she marched back to the room he occupied. When she entered, he was reading one of her books on herbal remedies.

“I hope you do not mind me reading your book, Essex.”

“I do not mind.”

His smile suggested he knew she did. It mocked her, and made her toes curl inside her boots.

“Now I wish to address the matter of your meals, sir.”

“Max.”

“I am caring for you, therefore you will eat what I say. If you do not like the rules I set, then by all means leave.” She hadn’t meant to sound rude, but it had come out that way.

“I thought you did not want me to leave. I think you said I would not make it to the doorway with my injury.”

Essie gave him a look that would have spoken volumes to each of her siblings. She was usually the quiet Sinclair, the peacemaker, the even temperament among six fiery ones. Why, then, was she struggling to find that calmness with this man?

“I only want to help you, sir, and to do that you must allow me to know what is best for you.” There, that had been spoken in her usual calm, rational manner.

“I shall try, but invalid food has never agreed with me.”

Essie did not buy the contrite look on his face, but she remained silent.

“Why has your brother left you alone?”

“He will return in a few hours, and I am not alone. I have three servants, and how do you know my brother has left?”

“Josiah told me. Where is the rest of your family?”

“They are in London, where I shall be in a few weeks.”

“You are to go to London?”

He seemed surprised by that.

“I am. Why do you ask? Do you perhaps live there, sir?” She could read nothing in his expression.

“I live nowhere.”

His answer was frustratingly evasive. She wanted to know more about this handsome stranger, and yet had no right to push for answers, especially if, as she suspected, he was poor, with no possessions to his name. It would be wrong of her to pursue the matter, especially if it embarrassed him.

“You miss them, your family?”

Essie nodded, her throat suddenly tight as she thought about her siblings. She did miss them. After the disaster of her first season, she had then endured another, but had pined for Oak’s Knoll, and her eldest brother had told her that if she wished to go home for a while, he would not stop her. Cam had joined her, in between trips to visit friends.

“Very much.”

“Then why live here, and not with them?”

“You ask a lot of questions, sir.”

“You interest me.”

“There is little to interest anyone, I assure you. And like you, I do not like to discuss my personal life.”

“So you do not believe you are beautiful or interesting? I wonder who has made you believe these things that are obviously untrue.”

“No one, and this is a silly conversation. Please do not attempt to flatter me with empty words. I assure you I am not easily fooled.”

Essie did not want to be of interest to anyone, and most especially not this large, disturbing man. She needed to keep her exposure to him to a minimum from now on. Bertie and Josiah could care for him. She did not want to feel her pulse race anymore, nor the unsettling feelings he produced inside her.

“If there is nothing further you need, I shall leave.”

Max made himself move, then hissed in pain… loudly.

“Are you in pain?”

“Some,” he said, feeling no guilt for his words. He’d been shot, stabbed, and his body had been beaten badly, so he was used to pain. But what he wasn’t used to was the need to have the woman touch him, or the need to have her close. So he would do what he could to achieve that.

She intrigued him. More than that, she made him hungry for her, and no woman had made him feel that way... ever. He understood lust, and he understood greed, but he doubted Essex Sinclair understood either.

Max knew people, and his experience had taught him that most wanted something when they came in contact with him. Rarely did they want just companionship or friendship. However, he had a feeling Essex Sinclair was different. In fact, he thought that perhaps Essex Sinclair was exactly as she seemed, a beautiful woman with a good heart. Was it true? The thought was disturbing, because Max had not met any such people in his life before.

“Your bandages are not too tight.”

He tried not to react as her finger slid under the bindings and touched his skin.

“Your body has suffered a trauma, sir, it will likely be painful for some time. But to ensure a full recovery, you must rest.”

Max schooled his features to look solemn. “I shall try to do as you say, Essex.”

“Miss Sinclair,” she chided him, but it was accompanied by a sweet smile. He felt as if he’d received a treasure.

Christ. What the hell is happening to me. Has she created some potion to enslave me?

“Essex,” he said, a bit more sharply than intended. “I will call you that.”

Her lips tightened, but she said nothing, and then left the room.

Max had learned early that to survive you had to be the strongest and meanest of those around you. He’d become that and more. He was never weak, and subtleties and gentleness were beyond him.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he made himself stand. Dizziness had him holding one of the posts. When his head steadied, he made himself walk slowly around the room. He needed to be ready to leave here, and to do that he had get his strength back.

“I often marvel at the stupid acts of men. I can now add you to the top of that list, sir.”

Essex was standing in the doorway, hands on hips, green eyes fired with anger. Max wanted to go to her, to wrap an arm around her slender waist and kiss that angry snarl off her lips. Instead he made himself walk back to the bed.

“I need to keep my strength up, as I must leave here soon.”

“I told you to rest.”

“I do not take orders from anyone.”

“Then leave my house, for I have no wish for you to stay if you will not accept my word.”

She had not yelled, but he heard the anger in each word. She then left him again. Minutes later he heard the front door shut. Easing himself gently back into the bed, Max felt his heart thudding hard in his chest, as if he had been running. He was weak, there was no doubting that, but he was never laid low for long; this would be no different.

Max had not had a woman speak to him as Essex Sinclair just had in many years, and wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it... or her. The smile that shaped his lips told him that perhaps he liked it. Her anger was refreshing. He would need to apologize, of course.

His smile grew.

He must have dozed, because when he woke he heard voices in the room next to the one he lay in.

“I’ll not be getting off it, Elder Sinclair. I need to tend my animals.”

Curious, Max threw back the covers and was about to get out of bed when a man entered. He had the look of the other one who had brought him his morning meal, well-built with the same smile.

“Good day to you, sir, my name is Bertie.”

Max nodded.

“I would not advise you to leave your bed yet, as Miss Essex was most displeased when she found you walking about earlier.”

“I wish to stand.” Max didn’t take orders.

“You’ll not be strong enough to.”

Max slid his legs to the floor. As he pushed upright, his head swam again and he grabbed the bedpost.

“Are you wishing to go anywhere particular?”

“What’s going on in there?” He nodded to the doorway through which he’d heard the noise.

“Miss Essex is treating a patient.”

Hating to admit he was feeling weak, and hating to have another man see him in such a state, he rested a hip on the bed.

“She is the only healer nearby?”

“There is an elderly lady in the next village, but as that’s a full day’s ride, the locals from Crunston Cliff are happy to have Miss Essex back. Her family have been here for centuries, and one has always been a healer.”

“Back?”

The man’s face remained pleasant, but his eyes were suddenly guarded. Loyalty in a servant was an excellent thing, even if it stopped Max getting the information he wanted.

“Can I send word to anyone to collect you, sir?”

“No, there is no one.” Max continued to endorse the fact he was alone. “Is my horse still here?”

“Yes, we have settled it in the paddock behind the stable. Now, if you need no further help returning to bed, I shall leave you.”

Max waited until the man had left, and then struggled back into bed. He then listened for the next two hours as Essex treated people. He caught snatches of conversation; there was a boil on a knee, a pain in the stomach. A small child had hurt her wrist, and another had an infected cut. The man she treated now was being lectured, and not liking it one bit.

“You’ll not be telling me to stop, Miss Sinclair. I have no time to sit about like a lady drinking tea.”

“All ladies do not sit about drinking tea, Mr. Clever. Some of us are even intelligent enough to raise families, run households, and work.”

Her words were clipped and colder than a winter’s day, and had Max smiling. He wished he could see the fire in her green eyes.

“While I would not care if your health affected only you, I do care about your wife and five children. Therefore, I am telling you that if you do not take today to rest, you will have to do so for a great many more if your injury gets infected and your stitches tear. Now, I have no intention of seeing my work ruined, so if your wife cannot talk some sense into you, then I will tell your mother, and she will.”

“Oh now, there’s no need to do that, surely?”

“There is every need if you do not immediately go home. And I shall be checking.”

Max muffled his snort of laughter. Lord, what a woman.

“I-I’ll be heading home at once then, Miss Sinclair.”

“A very sensible move, Mr. Clever.”

Her next patient was a woman called Emily Brunt. Her voice was soft, and Essie talked to her gently, so he could not pick up a great deal of the conversation, except that she had lost another child, and that was when the smile fell from his lips. Essie talked to the woman for some time, and then Max heard sniffing, which suggested the woman was weeping. He closed his eyes. Crying women were something he had never been able to tolerate.

Chapter Four

“I have food.” She came after her patients had gone, with the shaggy dog on her heels, and settled a tray on his lap. Her expression was polite, and held none of the fire he’d seen or heard in her while she was treating her patients. She’d changed her dress, and this one was lavender. No lace or frills, no ribbons or trimming. Just a plain dress that fitted her lovely breasts and fell to the floor. Her hair was in a braid and hung over her shoulder. A piece of wool was tied around the end.

“Do you not have ribbons?”

“Pardon?” She lowered the teapot and looked at him.

“You have wool tied around your braid.”

“Ribbons come undone.”

“Then you have some?”

She nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“You do not dress extravagantly, and I wondered if you do not have the funds to do so.”

She laughed. More a giggle, actually, and it was a lovely sound. Her face softened and her eyes twinkled, and Max felt the urge to sigh. But as he was not one who did so, he gritted his teeth instead. The woman was far too appealing.

“My brother is a baron. And while we once did not have money, I assure you that is no longer the case. I like to live simply when I am here, and there is nothing more to it than that.”

Her family were nobility. He searched his memory for a Lord Sinclair, and located one. Why had he not connected them? It was unlike Max to not do so. This woman had robbed his wits.

“I intended no insult,” he said in a gruff voice. “You would look beautiful in a sack.”

She blushed, the color filling her cheeks. Max grabbed her arm as she turned to leave, and his fingers slid down to circle her slender wrist.

“You are beautiful, Essex.”

“H-how does your injury feel this afternoon, sir?”

She still did not believe him, and it frustrated him that she could not see what he could.

“It is better, thank you.” Max did not pursue the matter. It wasn’t his way to do so. The problem was, he had found himself doing and thinking differently since arriving in this house and meeting this woman. He cared that she did not see her beauty, and that was not like him. Max cared for nothing and no one.

“Excellent.” She laid a palm on his forehead. He felt something when she touched him, a tingling through his body, and what followed could only be described as hunger. He had known her for less than a day, and he wanted this woman with a desperation he’d never before experienced.

Why?

He had lain with plenty of women, and most were wealthy and bored. Some of noble birth, others, daughters and wives of rich merchants. All dressed in expensive gowns and smelled of sweet perfumes. Essex Sinclair smelled of her herb garden, and wore frumpy gowns, and her hair in a single braid that hung to her waist. What the hell was her allure?

“And you have no pain?”

“No.” He snapped out the word with more force than was required because she unsettled him. The dog growled at his tone, so he glared at it.

“What is that animal’s problem?”

“Myrtle is an excellent judge of character. She also does not like raised voices.”

“She needs a haircut.”

“No, what she needs is a wash after Cam threw a mug of tea over her.”

The dog looked from Max to her mistress and back to him again.

“Now, sir, rest is the best—”

“God’s blood, call me Max, woman.” He reached for her as she turned away. Wrapping his fingers around her waist, he pulled her back. “After what we have shared, I insist upon it.”

“Let me go, please.”

He didn’t; instead he gave her a tug, and tumbled her onto his chest. Before she could say anything, his lips were on hers. One of his hands cupped her head, the other her waist, and the feel of her pressed to his chest made his head swim. He’d wanted this, her lips pressed to his, since this morning when he’d woken with her in his arms.

“Essex,” Max sighed into her mouth. He gentled the kiss, coaxed instead of demanded, and soon he felt her response, but it was her tears that stopped him.

“Why are you crying?” He held her shoulders, her face close to his. Tears spilled over her lids and down her cheeks. “Tell me.” His words came out raspy as he brushed the tears aside.

“I-I don’t want this.”

“This, being kisses? This, being held by a man who wants you very much?”

She managed a nod, but her eyes remained on his, almost as if she was begging him to understand what she had not said.

“You are a stranger. I know nothing about you, and yet….”

“You are aware of something between us, as am I,” Max finished for her.

“How is that even possible when we have known each other no more than a day?”

Max shook his head, unable to answer. It was a mystery to him also.

“I would never hurt you, Essex.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You can’t know that,” Max said, contradicting himself. “And it is wrong of you to trust so easily.”

“I have known bad men, and you are nothing like him. I can sense that if nothing else.”

Him. Jealousy and rage lanced through him. Someone had held her like this. Kissed her soft, sweet lips. The thought made him furious.

“Who hurt you? Tell me his name.”

She braced her hands on his chest and pushed back, and Max reluctantly released her.

“It matters not. What matters is that I will never allow a man to break me as he did.”

“Any man who would hurt you is no man at all, Essex,” Max said, taking her hand in his. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed the palm. “Tell me his name and I will make him pay.”

“He is dead. Now I must go, another patient has arrived.”

She was lying; no one had arrived, because Max would have heard them.

“Max.” She turned back at the door.

“Yes.”

“I understand you have no place to go, and no one to tend you, so please stay here as long as you wish.”

The words humbled him. That she would offer her home in such a way when he had just kissed her was foolish and far too trusting. She knew nothing about him, yet he knew so much about this woman already. He should not be surprised that she would open her home to a stranger.

Essex Sinclair was everything he was not. Innocent and caring, and from a noble family. He would be best to leave here now, today, and ride as far away from the beguiling woman as he could.

He heard a snuffle and found the dog beside his bed.

“Your mistress has left, I suggest you follow her.”

She jumped on the bed and planted two paws on his chest, then stared at him through strange blue eyes. Max lifted a hand and stroked the long silken fur, then scratched the dog behind the left ear.

“Myrtle is a ridiculous name for a dog.”

She whined softly and closed her eyes as he continued to scratch. He’d never had a pet, and saw no need for one.

“And now you can leave,” he said when he’d finished. Instead the dog leaned forward and licked his cheek, before going to the end of the bed and turning a few circles before lying down. She then huffed out a breath and closed her eyes.

“As long as you’re comfortable,” he muttered, moving his feet. “Don’t mind me.”

He needed to get away from Essex Sinclair and this place. Away from her soft, caring hands and beauty. Being near her had made him weak, and Max would never allow himself to be that again.

Chapter Five

Max slept, and when he woke he felt a great deal better. The sky told him it was dusk, and the rumble in his stomach told him it was time to fill it.

Nudging the still slumbering animal off his feet, he received a sleepy-eyed look, then her tail thumped by way of a greeting.

“You are a lazy creature. Surely there are rabbits to hunt?”

Another thump, followed by a yawn that made him smile.

“What am I doing?” he muttered. “I have never smiled as much as I have since arriving in this place.” He could not remember a time when he had rested so much, either, even with a bullet hole in his side. He needed to leave here; Oak’s Knoll was making him vulnerable.

The sound of raised voices had him swinging his legs out of bed and standing. Myrtle huffed out a breath and joined him. Had the brother returned?

“I’ll not have you near her!” The loudest voice was angry. Pulling on the clean shirt Essie had left him, he walked slowly out the door with the dog on his heels. Cursing the pain in his side with every step, he made his way up the hallway.

“You may have others in the village fooled, but I know you Sinclairs are dangerous. I’ve seen things happen that shouldn’t, and unlike others I won’t ignore them. You’re a witch, and I’m here to tell you to stay away from my wife, or I’ll see to it others know what you are!”

Max increased his pace as anger gave him strength and took away the pain. Only one woman, beside the maid, lived in this house. And no one had the right to call that sweet creature a witch.

“Your wife is sick, Mr. Brunt, and unless she is treated, allowed to rest, and left alone by you, she will not heal.”

Essie’s words were calm, like she was speaking to one of her bloody patients instead of an angry man. Where the hell was the brother? Had he yet to return?

“Back away, Mr. Brunt,” Josiah said, sounding nothing like the man who had tended him earlier. There was now a mean edge to his voice that Max liked.

“I’ll make you see reason!”

Max reached the doorway, and parted the Hemple brothers by placing a hand on each shoulder. He then stepped between them and around Essie in time to see a burly, angry man coming toward her with a hand raised. He didn’t speak, just acted. He plowed his fist into the man’s jaw, sending him backward to land on his ass.

“Max!”

Ignoring Essie’s shriek and the hands she wrapped around his arm, he walked forward, taking her with him.

“Never speak to her that way again! Never darken this door, never even look at her!” Max roared, reaching down to grab the man. “She tends the sick for no other reason than she is kindhearted. How bloody dare you be anything but nice to her!”

“It’s all right, come away now, Max. Your stitches—”

“She’s a witch, everyone knows it!”

The man had blood pouring from his nose, but still glared defiantly up at Max.

“She’s a bloody angel!”

“My wife can’t give me children, and I blame her!” The man pointed at Essie, who was now at his side.

Max dragged the man to his feet by the neck of his shirt and shook him hard.

“You’re an idiot if you believe that! Go home and treat your wife better, and do as Miss Sinclair says. Only then may you be blessed with a child.”

“I’ll not do it!”

“Then rot in hell for all I care,” Max snarled. “But if word ever reaches me that you have so much as raised your voice to her again, I’m hunting you down, and there will be nowhere for you to hide.”

Before Max could strike him again, the man shook himself free and ran. Myrtle followed, barking loudly.

“Myrtle, come here!” Max roared, following the man to ensure he left the property. He did not want the dog to get a boot to the head.

“Max, stop now. Please.”

It was her “please” that stopped him. The word held desperation. Turning, he looked down into Essie’s face. Worry had drained it of color, and her eyes were damp with tears she fought to hold back.

“Did he hurt you?” He cupped her cheek, her unshed tears affecting him more than they should. “Tell me!”

“He did not hurt me, I promise.”

“Don’t cry.”

She sniffed loudly. “I’m not going to.”

As the anger began to drain from his body, he felt the pain return. Swift and searing as fiery pokers, it stabbed into his side, taking his breath.

“Christ!”

“Bertie, take his other side.” Essex moved to his left and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You will not be able to hold me if I fall.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“Come now, Max.” Bertie took his other side, careful to stay away from his wound.

“I can walk,” Max muttered

She said nothing further as they reached his room. She silently helped lay him on the bed, and then checked his wound. He had not pulled the stitches, surprisingly. She left, and returned minutes later with a cup.

“Drink this, it will help with the pain.”

“I need nothing.”

She lifted the cup to his mouth, and he would end up with it all over him if he didn’t open. He knew the determined look she wore.

“Essie, about—”

“Thank you for defending me.” She had not met his eyes yet.

“Look at me.”

Instead she went to pat her dog, who was once again at the foot of his bed.

“And now I must go, Max.”

“Where?” He reached out to grab her, but she had stepped from his reach.

“I shall send Bertie in with your meal.”

“Essie!” he called to her as she left the room, but she didn’t stop, just kept on walking, leaving him alone again with his thoughts.

Max slept, as whatever she had given him had insured that. He felt better upon waking, and felt his strength was returning. He would be able to leave here soon. Could ride a horse if necessary, and knew that it was fast becoming imperative that he put some distance between him and Essex.

She was becoming a fixation. Far more alluring than any well-dressed lady of London, she touched him in places he was sure no woman had ever reached before.

She had infiltrated him, broken through his barricades and found the raw places. The places he wanted her to soothe.

Climbing out of bed, he made for the windows. Darkness had long since fallen, but he still felt it, Raven Mountain looming over him like a menacing shadow.

This whole place unsettled him. The mountain, the people. He had the strange feeling he was meant to come here, and could not work out why.

“Max?”

He turned to find Essex in the doorway, holding a candle. She wore a dressing gown and slippers, and had obviously been roused from sleep, as her hair was tousled and her eyes still unfocused. Sweet, he thought, achingly sweet. Max felt his body stir in reaction to the picture she presented.

“Are you all right, Essex?” He made himself stay where he was and not go to her, which his body was begging him to do.

“I-I…. Did you call out to me? I thought I heard you.”

“No.”

“Are you hurting?” Lowering the candle to a chair, she took a step toward him. “I can take a look at your side, and make you something if need be.”

His feet moved before he could stop them, and seconds later he was at her side.

“I am in no pain.”

“Oh. Well then, I shall return to my bed.”

Max cupped her cheek when she made no move to leave.

“You need to go now, sweet Essex. Leave me before I do what my body is yelling at me to do.”

She swayed toward him, one of her hands resting on the bare skin of his chest through the open shirt. Her touch made him shudder.

“Wh-what do you want to do?”

“To take you,” he whispered. “Lose myself in your body, as I have wanted to since I woke with you in my arms.”

She did not pull back, and her eyes were clear now. But Max saw no fear, only a need that matched his own.

“Go back to your room.” His words brushed her lips. “Hell, Essex, I’m begging you to go back to your room.” The words were wrenched from Max. “I have no willpower around you.”

“I don’t want to leave. I want you too. Want this need inside me to be extinguished. I’ve never felt this way before, never experienced such passion for a man.”

Christ, he was shaking like some innocent youth about to make love for the first time.

“I-I have no right to ask this of you, Essie, as I have nothing to give you. I can make you no promises beyond tonight.”

Her eyes held his, open and honest. She did not look away or behave coy.

“I want this, to lie with you. Beyond that I ask for nothing, either, as I have no wish to marry. What I want is to experience what can be between a man and woman.”

“Last chance,” he rasped, cupping both her cheeks.

She rose to her toes and kissed him. The touch was fleeting and innocent, and beast that he was, he would take what she offered. Seizing control of the kiss, he teased her lips with gentle caresses that eased the tension from her spine and had her clinging to him in seconds.

“Open for me, Essex.”

His tongue slipped inside to caress hers, and Max’s head spun. Just kissing her was causing a frenzy inside him.

He undid the tie at her waist and pushed off her dressing gown, then worked the ribbons at the back of her night shift loose. Sliding a hand inside the opening he had created, he caressed her back. Her skin was warm and silken to touch, and he wanted more.

“You inflame me.”

He tasted her sigh as his hand swept the swells of her bottom and up the line of her back, stroking each knuckle on her spine with infinite care. Stepping back, he looked at her.

“Take it off for me, Essie.”

She didn’t hesitate at the husky command; she reached for the hem and dragged it up her body and over her head.

“Sweet Christ, you’re exquisite,” Max whispered, his gaze devouring what she had uncovered. Candlelight only enhanced her beauty. She was a vision of lush curves and pale satin skin. He pushed a handful of hair over her shoulder, then ran his fingers down her chest to cup the fullness of a breast.

“Look at me, Essie,” Max whispered. She lifted her eyes to his. “Tell me you see your beauty as I do.”

“Max, it’s all right, you have no need to speak that way.”

Taking her hand, he led her to the mirror. Placing Essie in front of him, he gathered her hair and draped it over her shoulders, exposing her to their eyes.

“This,” he said, caressing the side of her face, “is perfection. I have travelled thousands of miles and not once have I seen the color of your eyes in another, or the sensual curve of your lips.”

She watched his hand as it traced her lips.

“I do not like to look at myself like this.”

Max held her still as she tried to turn away. “Let me show you what I see, Essie. Please.”

“The others in my family….” She turned her face away from the mirror. “They are so much more than I am.” She whispered the words, and he knew they caused her pain.

“I don’t believe that.” He turned her face back to the mirror. “No one could be so much more than you. Your skin is sun-kissed, unlike the other pallid ladies of society. Smooth as silk,” he whispered into her ear. “I long to worship every inch.”

Max trailed his fingers down her arm and over her stomach, and her eyes followed.

“When I woke with you in my arms my first morning here, I watched you for minutes while you slept. You looked like an angel... my angel. The neck of your chemise had swept low, and I could see this.” He stroked her ribs as he moved upward to cup a breast. Max looked at the scar that ran along the length of his hand. It appeared big and brutish against her soft, unblemished skin.

“Feel what you do to me, Essie.” Max groaned, placing a hand on her stomach to pull her back against him.

“I-I feel it,” she gasped as he pressed his hard arousal into the curve of her buttocks. Max knew that, unlike other innocent woman, Essie had experience of the body. She’d tended many conditions, and knew what people looked like without their clothes. She was not embarrassed or shy.

“You do this to me, Essie.”

“Max, I-I— These feelings....”

“I won’t let you hide from me, Essie. I will not allow you to hide what you are feeling here in this room from me.”

“What of you, are you hiding things from me?”

He held her eyes. He had lied, and he was hiding things from her, but not this. Not what he felt being here in this room with her.

“What I feel for you here in this room, here at Oak’s Knoll, I am not hiding from,” Max said, and it was all he could give her for now. He prayed it was enough.

“We barely know each other, and yet I want to be with you,” she whispered, placing her hand on top of his where it sat on her hipbone. “I am not afraid of you, or this, Max.”

Max kissed the side of her neck, tasting the sweet nectar of this woman. Moving his fingers inward, he parted the soft folds between her thighs.

“Look at my hands on your lovely body, Essex.”

“I’m looking.” Her head fell back onto his chest.

“Let me love you now.”

“Yessss,” she hissed as the tip of one finger stroked the hard bud between her thighs, making her shudder.

“Tell me you’re beautiful.” How could she not see what he did? Were all the men she encountered fools, to not see her beauty?

“Yes, Max, you make me beautiful.”

“I can wait no longer, Essie, I need you now.”

“Then take me,” she urged, turning in his arms to wind her own around his neck. “Kiss me, Max.”

Chapter Six

Both were breathless in seconds as their kisses grew fiercer. Slowly they moved backward as one, until Essie felt her thighs touch the bed.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Max. Your injury… we must go carefully.”

“You could never hurt me.”

“But—”

He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I want this… I want you, Essie.”

“Will you let me take off the shirt then, let me touch you, Max?”

“No... I—”

“I’ve seen the marks on your back. I hate that you suffered to get them, but they are part of you,” she whispered. “Let me touch you.”

“I-I want that, but no one has ever touched me there before.”

Essie heard the vulnerability in his voice. She would not touch him there tonight if that was his wish. But next time… if there was to be another. He would trust her enough to allow that intimacy, she vowed.

“Let me help you take off your shirt.” Her fingers were unsteady, yet they never faltered as she pulled the hem over his head.

“Last night when I saw you, and took off your clothes, I remember thinking you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. A warrior,” Essie whispered, running a hand down his chest, carefully avoiding the bandage. “I thought you looked like a lion. Fierce and proud. Your eyes glinted gold in the firelight.”

“No one has ever called me beautiful.” His laugh was unsteady as she reached the opening of his breeches.

“You are beautiful. A beautiful lion,” Essie whispered. She kissed his chest, her touch causing him to inhale.

She felt different suddenly, emboldened by the beauty he saw in her. Essie wanted this... wanted more. For the first time in so long, she was certain of something. She wanted this man, and tonight she would take him and have no regrets, just as he would take her.

Reaching for his breeches, she undid the button, and ran her hand over his stomach. It was flat and hard; she found no spare flesh. Her fingers brushed the tip of his erection, and the breath hissed in his throat.

“You know the male body well, Essie, and yet I think this, what we are about to do, is new for you?”

“It is, and yet I would not want to be anywhere else. This, being here with you, Max, it feels right.”

She saw a flash of doubt on his face.

“I care nothing for what you have or don’t have. Possessions, wealth, and property mean very little to me.” Essie touched his cheek, making him look at her. “Forget about what lies outside the door awaiting us.”

His hand was in her hair, and with a gentle tug her head fell back, and he was kissing her once more. Essie lost the ability to think; she could only feel. His hand was on her body, tracing each curve and cupping her breasts. His fingers stroked her nipples and sent ripples of pleasure through her.

She felt his hot breath on her neck, and then lower, until he was licking one of her breasts.

“Oh” was all she could manage as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. His hands continued to touch her, stroke the secret place between her legs, and all Essie could do was hold on as the tension inside her escalated.

“Max!” Her body spiraled tighter as he pushed a finger inside her. It was exquisite, and she shuddered as pleasure swamped her.

“Christ, you are beautiful,” he whispered against her lips as he eased her back onto the bed. “And I want you very much, Essex.”

“I want you,” she whispered. Her hands pushed his breeches down his thighs. Essie was not afraid of the human body; she had seen it in many different forms. Max had a beautiful body, so powerful and strong.

“God!” He threw back his head as she touched the hot flesh of his arousal. She trailed her fingers up and down the skin, and then wrapped a hand about it and stroked him.

“Sweet Christ, that’s good.” His hands cupped her face and tilted it upward. She saw the savage expression, but felt no fear. Max would not hurt her. His hands circled hers and eased them away from his body.

“Trust me, Essie.”

“I-I do.”

Starting at her neck, he began to kiss his way down her body, and by the time he reached her stomach, Essie was writhing, her fingers clenching handfuls of the covers. Lifting one of her legs, he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“Max?”

“Just feel, Essie.”

She felt his breath there. The hot sweep of his tongue and warmth of his breath, and then she could think no more as sensation after sensation swept through her. The pressure was exquisite, and then he eased a finger inside her once more, and she shattered for a second time.

“You must take me inside you, sweetheart. My injury will not allow me to brace myself on my arms too long.” He urged her to her feet, then sat on the side of the bed and pulled her onto his thighs, her legs straddling his. Cupping her face, Max kissed her, and then lay back on the bed.

“Lift up on your knees.”

She did as he ordered, and felt him pressing at her entrance. Easing down, Essie felt him slowly enter her, stretching her wider. Silken muscles clenched as he stroked forward. There was discomfort, but also wonder. So this is what happens.

“God, you feel good, Essie.”

She felt his hands on her waist as he met her maidenhead, then he took control and pushed through, pulling her down onto his chest as she cried out at the pain.

“Sssh, sweetheart, it will ease,” he soothed.

The feeling was unusual, and yes there was discomfort, but there was also pleasure that she was now joined to this man. His hands were stroking her back as she listened to the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear.

“Sit up now, Essie.”

She did as he asked, and then he was lifting her hips, easing her slowly up his arousal, and then back down. The silken glide of his flesh inside her stirred her body to life once more. Max gritted his jaw as his hips drove up to meet hers as she came down. His hands cupped her breasts, and Essie came down harder and faster, eager to reach that pinnacle she had found before.

Max’s hoarse cry met Essie’s as she threw back her head; together they flew over the edge.

Breathless, Max wrapped his arms around Essie and held her close to his chest. He felt the brush of her breath on his shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. He wondered what had just happened, how an innocent had made him feel something no other before her had managed. For the first time in his life he’d lost control, felt lust so powerful he had been beyond reason. She had touched his back, touched the welts that had been inflicted on him as a child, and he had not shuddered. What did that mean? How was it possible that this woman had come to mean so much to him in such a short time? The panic began in the pit of his stomach.

“Max?”

“It’s all right, Essie,” he soothed, easing the grip he had on her hair.

“What’s your name, Max?”

“You know my name,” he said, trying to control of himself. She deserved to know more, but he could not tell her... not now, after what they had shared. He had deceived her by withholding information he should have shared. Guilt settled on his shoulders.

“No, your full name.”

“Max Hunter.” Another lie.

“It suits you,” Essie said, kissing his chest, which felt way too good and right for Max’s peace of mind. They lay there in the dark, he holding her body on top of his, and he thought what a fool he had been to make love with this woman, because he had a terrible feeling that he’d never want to let her go.

“Do you wander the earth a free man, Max? No people or buildings to tie you in one place? Will you tell me of your life? Some of the personal things.”

“No. I do not speak of my life.”

She rested her hands one on top of the other and looked down at him. He saw no shyness in her gaze, and no regrets over what they had done. The regret was his alone.

“You are not like other women.”

“If you mean why am I not horrified and cringing in maidenly modesty, then yes, I am different. I am a healer. I know the human body, be it man or woman. I was also raised with a family who are not like others. We are for the most open and honest with each other.”

He touched a curl, wrapping the silken strands around his fingers.

“Max, I care nothing about your past, or your possessions. I care nothing if you are a wanderer, with no fixed abode. But should you need a place to rest at any time, then I offer you this one.”

Christ.

“Essie—”

She placed her hand over his mouth. “Do you believe a girl who wears wool in her hair and grubs about in the earth cares about wealth or prestige? That I care if you have nothing to your name? I care nothing for that, only what I know. You are a good man, Max Hunter.”

He closed his eyes rather than see the emotion in hers. She was open and honest, and he... well, he was a lying bastard who would never be good enough for this woman. He needed to tell her the truth. It was the only way.

“Tell me that you now see your beauty, Essex.” Those words came out instead of the right ones, and Max knew why. He wanted her soft and pliant in his arms for a while longer. Believing that he was a good man. Another hour, no longer, and then he would send her back to her bed and leave. It was the only way. He would hurt her if he stayed, and he could not do that, not to her, not when he owed her so much.

Chapter Seven

Essie braced herself to enter Dev’s bedroom and see Max. She found a smile as she imagined what she would see: him resting on the pillows, his tawny mane of hair tousled, eyes sleepy. Big body warm beneath the blankets.

What they had shared last night had catapulted her into a world of sensual pleasure that she had never experienced before. Yesterday, Essie knew, had changed her completely. Max had changed her. His touch had ignited her, his kisses had melted her, and she wanted more.

She’d thought Tolly had broken her, left her unable to feel anything for another man. Max had changed that last night. His lovemaking had left her reeling.

“Does that make me a hussy?” Essie giggled. Likely it did, but then she cared nothing for that. She would take what snatched moments she could with Max. And in the time she had with him, she would try and persuade him to stay.

He had challenged Murray Brunt, and then punched him, with a bullet hole in his side, and all because Brunt had said horrid, threatening things to her. Surely that meant he cared for her a little?

She had finally left his side as the gray steaks of dawn filtered through the window. She had kissed his lips softly and left him slumbering peacefully, and vowed she would return to that very place again soon.

Opening the door, she walked inside and found the bed empty. Pressing a hand to her heart as it started thudding hard inside her chest, she looked around the room but saw no sign of him. Running out, and down the hall, she checked every room, arriving in the kitchens last.

“What is amiss, Miss Essex?” Bertie was stirring a pot on the stove.

“Max, he is not in his bed.” Panic was filling her because even as she did not want to believe it, she knew he had gone.

“Go to the stables, perhaps he is there seeing his horse, and I shall check upstairs,” Bertie said.

She did as he said, and ran all the way, but all she found was Myrtle sitting outside the empty stall that had held Max’s horse. She dropped to her knees and hugged the dog, who whined softly.

“H-he’s gone, Myrtle, and Lord, it hurts.”

She had known him for such a short time, and yet the impact he’d had on her life was immense. Last night he had treated her as if she was the angel he professed her to be, and then after he had taken her innocence he had fled like a thief in the night.

“How could you,” she whispered into Myrtle’s fur. Did what they had shared mean nothing to him at all—or had he left because in fact it had meant something?

Essie made it back inside; she even appeared composed when she told the Hemple brothers Max had gone.

“I’m going to wash up now, and will be back shortly.”

They did not question her, and Myrtle followed as she climbed the stairs. Only when she closed her door did she let the tears flow. Silly, useless tears for a man she knew nothing of except what her heart had told her. He was kind and gentle, and protective. Was she wrong again? Had she misjudged another man?

“No, I won’t believe that,” Essie whispered. He cared for me and Myrtle, and I will not believe differently. He’d told her he had nothing to give her, and she had accepted that. The shock was that he had left before she awoke, but she had to admit he had promised her nothing.

“I wonder if we will ever see him again?” She hugged the dog close.

He was alone by his own admission. Alone, with no possessions or home, and had promised her nothing. She had last night as a wonderful memory, and that would be enough. It was certainly more than she had ever believed she would have.

“Are you in there, Essex?” The words were followed by a heavy fist banging on the wood.

Rolling off the bed, Essie knew if she didn’t answer it, Cam would knock it down. Wiping her eyes, she forced a smile onto her face and opened the door.

“Cam, why are you roaring at such an early hour?”

She stepped back and away, so he could not see her, but his hand stopped her. He turned her to face him, then her chin was lifted.

Her brother’s eyes roamed her face, taking in the devastation she was sure he saw there.

“Why are you crying?” Cam went still when he was truly worried, and his voice lost all the lightness and humor he was known for.

“I am merely exhausted.”

“Tell me the truth.” He shook her.

“He... Max has gone.”

“And this upsets you enough to have you crying?”

She nodded, then bit her lip as more tears threatened. “H-he is injured, and I fear for him.”

The green Sinclair eyes narrowed.

“No, there is more to this sadness than just that. What did that man do to you?”

She forced a laugh from her lips, but it was more a sob.

“How can he possibly have done something to me in two days, and with a bullet hole in his side?”

“That I do not know, but I plan to find out.”

“I-I— He can’t mean anything to me.”

“And yet he does?”

“N-no.” Essie refused to weep again. “I will be fine, Cam, it was merely a s-surprise to see him gone this morning. I worry he will open the stiches and get an infection.”

“You were always the worst liar in the Sinclair clan.” Cam opened his arms, and she walked into them simply because she wanted to be held by someone who loved her.

“I’m all right, truly, Cam. Unstable, and not s-sound of mind, but all right.” Essie tried to make light of the situation. “Tiredness is making me weepy.”

“Of course you are, but you’re all those things and my sister, and if someone has hurt you, I will have to hurt him.”

“I am not hurting, it was a shock.” Essie tried again to convince her brother.

“Well considering what Bertie told me about Brunt, I can understand you have had a trying time of things.

“He is a nasty, mean man.”

“He is at that, and I believe I now owe this Max a debt of gratitude for flattening him with a good punch.”

She nodded into his shirt. “I fear you will not see him again to thank him.”

“You don’t know where he has gone then?”

She shook her head.

“Come, let us go out to your garden. You’re always calmer there.”

Essie let Cam lead her outside, and felt the sun on her head as he walked to her gardens. Reaching the bench seat she and Eden had built, he lowered her onto it.

“Cry your tears, Essie, and then we shall talk, you and I.”

“I don’t like crying, it makes my head hurt,” she said, leaning into his arm. “And really I have no reason to do s-so. I am not the weeping Sinclair, as you very well know, I am the calm Sinclair.”

“Who wrote that rule?”

“It is the way of things, Cam. I settle arguments and soothe ails.”

“I had no idea you were so boring. Remind me again why I am here with you?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“No, I really don’t.”

She looked at him, and saw the look on his face was genuine.

“I-I’m not like you, Dev, and Eden.”

He studied her, running his eyes over her hair and face. “You certainly look like us.”

“I just don’t have your...” Essie struggled to find the right words. “Charisma.”

“I wouldn’t be too upset about that, as not many people do,” Cam bragged.

Essie snuffled into his shirt.

“Are you wiping your nose on my clothing?” Cam always knew how to make her smile even when she had no reason to.

“I arrived downstairs this morning to find the Hemple brothers wringing their hands and murmuring about this sainted Max, he who felled Brunt with one blow. It’s enough to put a man off his food… were he any man but I, that is.”

Essie sighed. “I am all right, Cam. It was just a shock to find him gone.”

“I know you, and this is more than shock.”

“I don’t want to feel things anymore.” Essie struggled to put her thoughts into words.

“A trifle hard when you live in a family of emotive people, love.”

“That is not my meaning. I meant I never want to feel anything for a man again. I decided this after Tolly broke my heart.”

“You were born to love, Essie, it’s in your nature.”

“I don’t want that. Don’t want the pain and heartache that goes with it. I have seen our siblings struggle with emotion, and while Dev and Eden are now happy, they suffered to get there.”

Cam sighed. “It is part of the process, Essie. You cannot simply wake up one morning, meet your mate and live happily ever after. Not if it is true love, anyway. Some of those marriages in London make me shudder, all about connections and family ties. Cold and unemotional unions are not for a Sinclair.”

She looked up at him, but his eyes were on Myrtle, who had followed them outside and was foraging about in her gardens.

“Do you want that, Cam?”

He was quiet for a while as they listened to the sounds around them. Essie could hear the waves crashing against the rocks some distance away, and the gulls screaming, the rustle of leaves in the trees. The smell of her herbs wafted around them. All were as familiar to her as breathing.

“I’m not sure I have it in me to love like that, Essie. I’m not sure I want to ever feel that way about a woman either.” He looked down at her.

“You know that when you sigh like that, you of all my sisters, it breaks my heart,” Cam said in a soft voice. “When that bastard Tolly hurt you, I wanted to raise him from the dead for the pain he inflicted on you.”

“I know, just as I know you and Dev would do what needed to be done to protect me.”

“How has this man who left in the middle of the night hurt you in such a short time? Can you tell me that?”

“He did not hurt me,” Essie denied.

Cam snorted. “I know you well enough to see the hurt, sister.”

“Brunt hurt me with his words, and I hurt for Beth, and yes, perhaps I did feel a little something for Max, but he was nothing but a gentleman to me.”

“Then why are you hurting? It makes no sense.”

“Because he made me feel something. An awareness that I had hoped to never feel again,” Essie said. And when he made love to me, I was sure he touched my soul.

“I understand what you mean. Women have come and gone in my life who have made me aware of them. A touch or look shared. It’s disconcerting,” Cam said.

“Is there a particular woman in your life now who makes you feel like that?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, no, no, we are not discussing me, sister, but you.”

Essie sighed again. “Every man who has come into my life, I compare to you and Dev. Every one usually fails, but yesterday I realized that Max is like you both. He is a protector, for all he appears the opposite. He was kind to Myrtle, and she in turn loved him, and h-he punched Murray Brunt when he dared to call me a witch.”

“Now that I wish I had seen,” Cam said.

“Brunt called me a witch, Cam.”

Her brother got to his feet and stalked away from her. She watched as he plucked several heads off flowers and shredded them. Myrtle came to his side and pressed herself against his leg. Cam being Cam, he bent to pat her head. Even in anger, her brothers would never turn from those that loved them.

How had she known in such a short space of time that Max was the same?

“And you say you felt something for this Max?” Cam stalked back to stand before her.

“I-I— Yes,” she said honestly. “But more an attraction, I think you could say,” Essie lied. It would do no good to let Cam believe any different. “And as I know you have felt the same many times, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, I feel attractions to women all the time, but they do not upset me as much as you are upset.”

“I told you why I feel upset, Cam. Beth and then her husband, and then finding Max gone. I have had very little sleep also.” No good would come of him becoming aware of just how much she and Max had shared. “Truly, Cam. I was just being pathetic this morning because I was weary.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You are one of the strongest women I know. Never be ashamed of your emotions, or sharing them with me, no matter how uncomfortable they make me feel.”

She found another laugh.

“It will pass, Cam. As you have said, I knew him two days; a person cannot form an attachment in such a short amount of time. We will go to London and I shall forget all about him and the Brunts.”

“You give so much of yourself to others, Essie. Everything you do, you do with your heart on your sleeve, and we love you because of that. If some man can’t see what you are, then he is not worth your heartache, sister. Although this seems an odd conversation to be having, considering the circumstances.”

She regained her feet and took the hand he held out to her.

“Why can’t I find someone like you or Dev, or even James?”

“Well of course there is only one of me,” Cam said, smiling as she scoffed. “Dev and James are far too uptight for you, love. Not to mention they are family. I worry about you, Essie. You are vulnerable around men.”

“One man does not make me vulnerable. Yes, I was a fool with Tolly, but then he was the first man I had cared for. Perhaps in light of that I was blinded to his true self.”

“Two men now.”

“No. I did not love Max. How could I after two days? So you see, there is no need to worry for me.” Did all her family feel like this about her? “I am no fool, Cam.”

“Fool, no. Innocent, and generous of spirit, yes. If I may suggest, when you find your heart weakening again, as surely it will, you come to me and I shall check the man over thoroughly. If he passes, you may proceed.”

“Idiot.”

“And now we must prepare ourselves to once again walk in society. You must throw off those hideous dresses and actually tie your hair with a ribbon, or have your maid style it with flowers.”

Essie looked into her brother’s eyes. “Thank you for caring, Cam.”

“Always,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

And this, Essie thought, should be enough. It had to be, as once again she had made a fool of herself over a man. She vowed to never do so again.

Chapter Eight

“You received a letter from Dev today, Cam? What did it say? And furthermore, why did you not tell me?”

He and Essie were taking their evening meal. The night was warm, so they forwent a fire, but sipped from mugs of tea.

“I was giving you time to compose yourself.”

She waved a hand about. “I am now composed, so tell me what Dev said.”

“Woman are such fickle creatures. One minute you are heartbroken, and then next it is forgotten.”

“I was not heartbroken, and after a good sleep I am once again hearty.” She did not tell him that thoughts of Max had plagued her all day. “Now, tell me what our brother said.”

“That our presence is required in London.”

Tea sloshed over the brim of her mug as she quickly sat upright. “But we are returning soon anyway. What has happened to want us earlier?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you.” He waved her back into her seat. “It is merely that you are to be an aunt, and James and Dev want you to come to London to watch over their wives until they are ready to leave and travel to their estates.”

“I’m to be an aunt!” Essie leapt to her feet. “Both are expecting?”

Cam nodded, his smile telling her he was pleased with her reaction. “And let me tell you that I am not entirely sure I wish to spend the next six months in the company of either man. They are already protective, they will now be insufferable.” He looked disgusted. “It is decidedly off-putting to see such powerful men brought to their knees.”

Essie found a laugh. “I’m telling them you said that.”

His smile fell away, and the look that followed was suddenly serious, not something she usually saw on this brother.

“That is the first genuine smile I have had out of you today, sister, and it pleases me to see it.”

“Oh, there is much to plan now before we leave! Excuse me, brother, I have lists to write.”

“Again it is just you and I, Myrtle. But then, you always were my one true love.”

Essie was smiling as she left the room.

Essie drew her eyes from the passing scenery to look at her brother, who was lounging on the opposite seat. No easy feat when you were over six foot, but he always managed it. They had finally reached London, after many last-minute preparations.

“Mrs. Toots has assured me she will watch over my patients until I return, and Mrs. Beadle, Josiah, and Bertie know enough to help should they be needed,” Essie said as the carriages entered the outskirts of London. “My fear is—”

“Enough, sister!”

Essie’s eyes widened at Cam’s harsh words.

“God’s blood, Ess. I have watched you rush hither and yon doing what you feel must be done. I now know more than enough about every ailment of the residents of Crunston Cliff, and believe I could have done without picturing old Mrs. Lemon’s festering sores. Please, I beg of you, allow me some peace, so I may arrive in London in a pleasant humor.”

Essie poked out her tongue.

“I know you worry, and that is entirely natural, but Crunston Cliff survived without you when last you came to London, and it will survive now. Should there be an emergency then they will ride to the next village and get help there. Now have mercy on me, and shut your mouth.”

Essex huffed out a breath, then gave her brother a rueful smile.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being my brother. Loving me, when I know sometimes I do not make that easy.”

His smile was gentle, and she wished others saw what she and the rest of their family did, the man with a big, generous heart.

“Compared to the rest of our family, my sweet, loving you was never difficult.”

She gulped down the tears.

“If you cry I may revise that opinion.”

She saw the changes in him that she had not taken the time to notice earlier due to her preoccupation with her patients. Cam had put on weight, but it suited him. His hair was still overlong and stood off his head in a tousled mass. He wore clothes effortlessly, like their elder brother, and Essie was relieved to see he did not have silly high collars and overly bright waistcoats. He was a handsome man, and she knew that he would be a wonderful husband one day.

“I love you,” she said softly.

“Love you right back.”

She took the hand he held out to her and squeezed it.

“Look at that silly animal.”

Myrtle was seated beside Essie, her head out the window, tongue hanging from the side of her mouth.

“The children will be pleased to see her.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Her eldest brother lived on the same street as their aunt and uncle, and James and Eden. People thought it odd that they were living that way, but it suited them. The youngest Sinclair siblings could flit between houses whenever they wanted to see a particular family member.

“You know that Dev and Lilly buying that huge house at the end of the street has made us even more peculiar in the eyes of society,” Cam said.

Essie shrugged. “We have always been different, Cam, and I don’t remember you caring what people thought of us before.”

He waved a hand about. “I don’t care, and I’m so highly regarded I could walk about wearing pink satin with feathers in my hair, and I would still be universally loved. I was merely alerting you to the facts.”

“You are not universally loved. Pitied, more likely.”

“Harsh, sister, but I understand that your hurtful words spring from the well of jealousy inside you.”

She was still laughing as the carriage drew to a halt, as she was sure was his plan. Cam did not like to see his family hurting in any way.

“Before we get out, Cam. I must ask you to promise not to mention this business with Max, as there is really nothing to it.”

“Of course, if that is your wish. After all, you know how much I love keeping secrets from Eden and Dev.”

“Idiot.”

“I’m sure my back has a permanent crick in it from several days of travel.” Cam arched as he stepped down.

“Essie, Cam, Myrtle!”

Looking up the large brick-fronted house, Essie saw the faces of her twin sisters. Aged ten, Somerset and Dorset were frantically waving down at them.

“Pull your heads back inside, you hoydens!” Cam scolded them. “You’ll bloody well fall and land on me if you lean out any further.”

They giggled and retreated.

“I see they are still shy and retiring,” Essie said, slipping an arm through Cam’s. She took Myrtle’s lead in the other.

“I don’t know how we shall present them in society when the time comes. Timid little dormice that they are,” he drawled.

Dev and Lilly’s house had needed a great deal of work to bring it up to scratch after they’d purchased it. Months later, it was now as they wanted it to be, an extension of the love they shared. The warmth of the house wrapped around them as Cam lead her upstairs, their feet sinking into patterned carpets. Walls were in peach and gold, and paintings of landscapes hung in shadowed alcoves.

“It’s so lovely, don’t you think, Cam?”

“It is, and suits the mighty Lord Sinclair.”

“He and Lilly are so happy now. It is so wonderful after the lives they both lived.”

“Aye, I cannot disagree with that, sister.”

“Essie!”

She caught her youngest brother, Warwickshire, when he ran at her. Bending, she hugged him close. He had grown, she realized with a pang of regret that she had not been here to witness it. Next came the twins, and they hugged her together, like they did everything

Arms around them, she followed Warwick into the room where the rest of her siblings waited. Myrtle was adding to the mayhem by barking and turning circles.

“Essie.” Devonshire Sinclair was the eldest of their clan, and had carried the weight of responsibility for them for many years after the death of their parents. Tall and broad shouldered, he had the Sinclair dark hair and stunning green eyes, and to Essie he was one of the most handsome men in England—alongside Cam. She pushed aside Max as he slipped into her head. He would never be anything to her now. In fact, she doubted she would ever see him again.

“Dev.” She leaned into him as his arms closed around her.

“What has happened?” He held her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes, as only an elder sibling who had known you since birth could do.

“Nothing, I am merely tired from traveling.”

The hand that cupped her cheek was warm and made her eyes close.

“No, there is more to this than fatigue, but I will not pursue the matter now. There will be time later.”

“There is nothing more. Now, let me tell you how lovely your house looks, and that I am so happy for you and Lilly, Dev. When is the baby due?”

He didn’t speak immediately, just lowered his head and kissed her forehead.

“I’m so pleased you are here.”

“As am I,” she managed to get out around the lump in her throat. “And I am sure I shall say this more than once. Please do not worry. Lilly is strong, and everything will be all right.”

Dev exhaled loudly. He was one of the strongest men she knew, until it came to his wife or family. Then he was irrational and fiercely protective.

“Will you tell her that she must rest and not overdo things, Essie?”

“Do not listen to him, Essie. I told him not to make you come to London, but of course my words were ignored.”

Lilliana Sinclair was a beauty. She had thick blonde hair, eyes the color of lavender, and she and Dev were the perfect match in every way. After turbulent beginnings, they had forged a bond that Essie knew would never break.

“Hello, Lilly, and please do not give it another thought, as I was coming to London anyway.”

The smile, if possible, made her more beautiful.

“You are glowing,” Essie said, tamping down the bite of jealousy. She would never carry a child, but she had no right to be bitter when those she loved did. “And I am very excited about one day soon meeting my niece or nephew.”

Nephew, Essie thought. Lilly carried a boy, but she kept that to herself.

“I am healthy as an ox, but still your brother worries.”

“That is what I am supposed to do, my love.” Dev slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and kissed the top of her head. “It is my job through the confinement, I believe.”

The love they shared was so strong, she felt it settle over the room.

“Excuse me while I see to refreshments.” As Lilly excused herself, Dev pulled Essie to his side.

“She seems in excellent health from what I could sense, Dev.”

“Does she?” The relief in his voice was clear for everyone to hear.

“I never thought you one for vapors, Dev. Are we to carry smelling salts for you too?” Cam drawled.

“I am not having vapors, brother, it is concern for my wife. One day you will know the difference.”

“Not for many years, is my fondest wish.” Cam’s eyes brushed over Essie. “This love business is far too painful for me. I will remain a self-centered, perfectly eligible, and may I add, highly sought bachelor for many years to come, thank you.”

“I can see the baby’s color.” Dev said the words quietly, so only Essie and Cam heard. Their younger siblings were playing cards at the table, loudly, like they did everything else.

“You can see the color already?” Cam whistled.

“It is my match,” Dev said, and Essie heard the wonder in his voice.

The Sinclairs were not like other people; they had heightened senses. Supposedly this anomaly came about centuries ago, and while Essie liked some aspects of her gift, she loathed being different from other people, and having to hide that fact.

Dev’s gift was sight. He could see things from great distance, and also at night. He also saw people in colors when he changed to his other sight. Eden had the gift of hearing, which was why she wore earplugs, as she could hear someone whisper from some distance away. Cam’s was smell, and Essie’s, taste. Each had other variations on that sense that had evolved over the years. Essie would sometimes taste fear or danger seconds before it happened. If she touched an expectant woman, she could tell they were carrying a babe and the sex of that child. The only sense they did not have was touch, but Lilly had that, and they knew this was why she was now wed to Dev.

“What am I to have, Ess?”

Essie smiled up at Dev. “That is for me to know only, brother.”

He laughed, a deep rumble of joy. “Very well.”

“She will bloody well tell me what I’m having!” Shortly after those words reached them, in through the door came the Duchess of Raven, formerly known as Eden Sinclair. Dark haired like all of them, Eden was the only sibling to have gray eyes. At her side walked her husband, the Duke of Raven. With Dev’s build, he had dark hair and brown eyes, and had once been a serious, conflicted man with little reason to smile. Eden had changed that.

“Eden!” Essie hurried to hug her sister. She felt the babe, and acknowledged her niece silently. “You too are glowing. Cannot one of you carry a greenish tinge and look off-color, like so many women in the early months of their pregnancies.”

“She has a greenish tinge in the morning for an hour, if that helps,” James said, kissing Essie’s cheek.

“Oh it does, immensely.”

Eden made a pffting sound, and took Essie by the shoulders as Dev had done. She inspected her thoroughly.

“What has happened?”

“Nothing has happened.” Essie smiled. “I am just weary from traveling.”

She watched her sister’s eyes lift over her head, and knew Eden shared a brief look with Dev and Cam.

“Lilly is approaching, and tea will arrive shortly,” Eden said, still studying her.

“Excellent, I’m famished.” Cam stepped to Essie’s side and accepted a hug from Eden.

“When are you not famished?”

“When I sleep.”

Essie left her siblings talking, and went to see Warwick, Somer and Dorrie, who were reacquainting themselves with Myrtle, who in turn was loving the attention. She did not like lying to her siblings, but in this she would stand firm. No one need know she had once again made a fool of herself over a man, and that this one she had only known for two days.

Chapter Nine

Essie had been in London two weeks before she decided to venture out alone. She had hoped the memory of Max and what they had shared would have eased by now, especially since she had left Oak’s Knoll, but it had not. In fact, she worried for him constantly. He had no money or home, and was staying she knew not where, and surely that would not help him heal. Was he even now lying somewhere, mad with fever?

She worried about infection, she worried that he had no one to love, and she hated that she worried. He was nothing to her. He had not even told her he was leaving for pity’s sake. That alone should be enough to force the man from her head. He had wanted nothing more to do with her.

She had spent the days since arriving in London with her family, reading and playing with her younger siblings, and venturing to the park that lay a five-minute walk from Dev and Lilly’s house to run Myrtle, or for a picnic. She had visited with her aunt and uncle and generally caught up on family news. For now, she had managed to avoid the questions about what had upset her, and for once Cam had held his counsel. She had no doubt he had done so under duress, as Eden and Dev would have questioned him relentlessly.

“I wish to replenish my medical supplies, Dev. May I use the carriage, please?”

“London is not a place for a young lady to travel about alone, Essie.”

They were seated at the breakfast table, Lilly, she, and Dev, and their three younger siblings.

“How fortuitous that I am not a young lady then, Devon.”

She watched his jaw clench briefly, while beside him Lilly gave her a wink, then continued to eat her eggs.

“You are my younger sister, and as such my responsibility.”

Dev had always taken his responsibilities as head of the family seriously.

“And yet I live in Oak’s Knoll without you. How on earth did I survive without my big brother watching over me?”

“You had Cam with you, two Hemples, and a maid,” he snapped.

Dev sat across from her, close enough to Lilly so he could touch her if he wanted. The three younger Sinclairs were engaged in consuming their food and insulting each other. Something of a Sinclair sibling tradition.

“Raise your head, Warwick, I have no wish to listen to you slurp your food directly from the plate.”

“Why must I, Dev, when there is no one to see?”

Warwick needed a haircut, Essie thought as his fringe fell over his eyes. Peas in a pod. The three little Sinclairs would grow up to look just like the older ones.

“We are here, and as we are the people who love you, I should think we are more important than anyone.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Dev questioned his little brother.

“Be telling one of us off, but notice when another is doing something you do not like?”

Lilly snuffled, and received a sharp look from her husband.

“Plenty of practice is how. Now lift your head.”

“Cam has arrived and is hungry,” Warwick said, hoping to distract his brother. “He said to tell someone to replenish the food.”

“It wouldn’t matter how much food there was, he’d still need more,” Somer said.

“Uncle says he has hollow legs,” Dorrie added.

“Highly likely, girls, so I suggest you eat up before he arrives.”

“Yes, Dev,” they said in unison.

“If only every member of this family was as accommodating as you two,” he said, smiling at them.

“Universal adoration is not good for anyone, but most especially not you.”

“Hear, hear.” Lilly lifted her teacup to Essie.

“You are not leaving this house without one of us,” Dev continued with the dogged determination to remain on task that had always infuriated his siblings. He had a fiendishly good memory also, and never forgot a conversation. “The places you will go are not safe, therefore I will not allow it.”

“Dev,” Essie sighed. “I will have my maid and your carriage. Surely they will suffice?”

“God’s blood, my hunger is savage this morning.” Cam wandered in, yawning loudly after those ominous words. His lodgings were next door to their aunt and uncle, in a house gifted to him. He looked like an eligible young gentleman should, and Essie was sure if any unwed young ladies were present they would sigh at the sight he presented.

“Good morning, heathens,” he said, picking up the twins and kissing them loudly, which made them giggle. He ruffled Warwick’s hair. “Which Roman emperor was defeated at the Battle of Chrysopolis?” he threw at them as he made his way to the loaded sideboard.

Essie looked at Dorrie, Somer, and Warwick. Her siblings, like the elder Sinclairs, were sharp-witted and could hold a great deal of useless information in their heads. Challenging them was something she, Eden, Cam, and Dev did often, as boredom led to trouble. She knew this, as the elder Sinclairs had been no different.

“I know!” Lilly said.

“Licinius I, who reigned from 308 to 324,” Dorrie said quickly, before Lilly could beat her.

“He was executed by Constantine I,” Warwick added, with his mouth full of food.

“Do you know that you three are more intelligent than any number of the adults I know?”

Somer and Dorrie smiled at Lilly’s compliment. Warrick continued to eat.

“Tell your sister she is not leaving this house without a companion, namely you.”

Cam’s eyes switched from Dev to Essie as he settled into a seat with a loaded plate.

“I’m sure there is an inch of room there.” Essie pointed to Cam’s plate. “Surely you could have crammed something else on it?”

Cam frowned. “Perhaps you are right. I shall be sure not to make the same mistake when I replenish my plate.”

“Don’t try and change the subject, Essex.”

“I gather you are the sister concerned, as the other one is married to an overprotective duke, and these two would never leave the house without company?” Cam indicated the twins.

“Dev is being overprotective yet again. I will take my maid, and I merely wish to visit apothecaries. I need supplies that I cannot source in Crunston Cliff. I have no wish to have one of you accompanying me and constantly moaning about the time I am taking. Therefore, at age twenty-seven, I feel more than capable of going out alone. After all, just last week I treated Mr. Bundle’s boil, and it was situated—”

“Essex!” Dev thundered. “You will keep the rest of those words inside your head, if you please. We are eating.”

Essie popped her last piece of toast in her mouth and chewed slowly.

“Therefore, I feel more than capable of entering a few establishments. Plus, and I repeat for possibly the fourth or fifth time—”

“At least ten, surely?”

Essie smiled at her sister-in-law before continuing. “I will have your driver, Bids, watching over me, and we all know how studious he is in that duty.”

Dev looked at her, those amazing green eyes of his seeing everything. She knew he had switched his vision and was seeing if her color was healthy. He did that often with his siblings. Strong color meant a healthy person, pale meant something was not as it should be.

“At least your color is good now. When first you rejoined us, it was weaker. Of course, as yet I have not been given the reason why.” He glared at Cam, who ignored him and continued to shovel in food.

“Dev.” She reached across the table for his hand and squeezed it. She felt the usual jolt she always did when she connected with one of her siblings. “I need you to let me go now. I am old enough to live alone at Oak’s Knoll, and more than capable of a trip to some stores. Please,” she added.

“It’s only because I love you.”

“And because I have terrible taste in men.” Essie tried to lighten to mood, but saw Cam scowl. He had kept his word and said nothing about Max, and for that she was grateful, because really, what was there to say? “So I will go, and then I will return,” she added quickly.

“Very well.” Dev sighed as Lilly leaned into him. “But two hours, and no more. If you are longer, I will come looking with Eden. Now please excuse me for a few moments, there is a matter I must attend to.”

That threat had been used often on the Sinclair siblings, as Eden could hear a great distance. She was hell to play hide-and-seek with.

She watched him leave the room as he did everything… with purpose.

“He worries about you two, you know,” Lilly said.

“I can understand worrying about her, because I do that.” Cam nodded to where Essie sat. “But why me?”

“He needs to worry about someone other than me, so as you two are not settled into happy unions, I’m afraid it will stay that way until you are.”

Cam snorted. “He’s worse than a father.”

“Why do you worry about me?” Essie questioned her brother. “There is no need, surely?”

He raised a brow, and his silence told her he was alluding to the business with Max.

“I am fine, for pity’s sake. I am rarely without a family member watching over me, and while this may surprise you, I am actually quite intelligent. Some days I even put on matching shoes.”

“Do you really?” Cam drawled. “That is exceedingly clever of you, and I must say this look is a better one than your attire at Oak’s Knoll. Why, you almost look pretty.”

Lilly laughed as Cam continued to needle Essie.

“Essie is one of the most beautiful ladies in all of London.” Warwick lifted his head to utter these words, before lowering it to his plate once again.

“Thank you, darling, that is quite the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“What are you after, you little toad?” Cam lunged across the table at his little brother and tickled him under the arms until the boy was squirming.

“Tonight we go to Aunt and Uncle’s ball,” Dev said, reentering the room. “So have mercy and return in time to have a rest, so she will not yell at you if you yawn.”

“Of course, although I do not need my beauty sleep like some,” Essie said.

“I hope you are not referring to me?” Cam said, grabbing Dorrie and hauling her into his lap, making the girl shriek. “As we all know I am beautiful no matter the situation.”

“Christ,” Dev muttered. “I’m sure her screams could burst an eardrum.”

“How exciting, a ball,” Essie lied, getting to her feet. She loathed society functions, but this one she knew she must attend.

“Your enthusiasm is overflowing, sister.”

“It’s all right for you, Aunt will not be thrusting any available man with good teeth into your path, as it is quite acceptable for you to still be unwed. Whereas I am practically on the shelf, but unlike other women, happy to be there.”

“Aunt means well, Essie,” Dev said. “And you are too pretty to be on the shelf.”

“Besides, that rules out Tickersly,” Cam said. “His teeth are missing in the front.”

“And Culliver, his are crooked,” Dev added.

“Yes, thank you, there is no need to outline all the undesirable men. Your sister is no fool,” Lilly interrupted.

“Well, actually—”

Essie glared Cam silent.

“I will have Grace get your dress ready, Essie,” Lilly said before the conversation could continue. “And we, your family, will be there to ensure you dance with no one unsuitable.”

“Thank you, my most favorite of sisters-in-law.” She kissed Lilly’s cheek, then her siblings’. “I love you too,” she whispered to Dev, and then left the room.

“She’s your only sister-in-law!” he roared as she walked down the hall.

Family, she thought. You had no time to be maudlin surrounded by so many of them.

She went to her room, got her bonnet and gloves and slipped on a spencer, then made her way downstairs. It was there she found Eden. Humming softly to herself, she was rearranging the flowers that had just been arranged by one of Dev’s staff.

“Hello, sister,” Eden said without looking up. Of course she had heard Essie approach.

“Hello, sister.”

Giving the flowers a last tweak, she turned to face Essie as she walked down the stairs. Eden, as always, looked beautiful in a long coat in pale peppermint. She wore a cream dress beneath, the skirts exposed through the opening below her waist. Her bonnet matched the coat and she looked as she always did, exotic, intriguing, and beautiful. Eden was all those things and more. Outspoken and vivacious, she was the Sinclair men fawned over and liked to look at. Pregnancy had merely enhanced the allure that had brought the Duke of Raven to his knees.

“Why are you rearranging flowers in Dev and Lilly’s entranceway?”

“I’m waiting for you.”

Sighing was really the only thing she could do. So she did, loudly.

“Dev sent word, didn’t he? What did he do, stand outside on the road and roar your name?”

Eden slipped her gloves back on.

“Don’t be silly, he would never make such a spectacle of himself. He went into the gardens behind the house and roared.”

Eden snorted.

“It was no hardship, and as I was lolling about in the breakfast room annoying James while he attempted to read his morning paper, it was a welcome distraction.”

“Where are Emily and Samantha?” James had two half sisters that had come into his life late.

“Taking lessons. Emily asked if she could join in, as she wanted to continue her learning, and James thought it a wonderful idea.”

“It is,” Essie agreed.

“I missed you, Ess, and therefore we shall spend a lovely day shopping for your supplies, as long as there is a cup of tea and delicious treat at the end of it.”

“You wish to spend the day shopping for herbs and other medical supplies?”

“Lovely,” Eden said, with absolutely no enthusiasm.

“Come along then, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Eden, how lovely to see you. This is a surprise!”

Essie looked up at her eldest brother, who was leaning over the railing looking down at them. The satisfied look on his face had Essie itching to stomp up the stairs and give him a piece of her mind.

“You could at least try and sound convincing,” she said.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You are happy for Eden to accompany me, but not a maid?”

“Eden has excellent hearing,” he replied.

The sisters snorted, and then Essie lifted her nose in the air and led Eden outside. Her brother’s laughter followed her.

They climbed into the carriage and were soon rolling through London to their first destination. As Eden was with her, she had left Grace behind.

Midmorning had the London streets busy enough that the trip to the first store was a slow one.

“So I have waited for you to tell me, but it seems I must ask.”

“About what?” Essie looked at her sister.

“Whatever you left behind in Oak’s Knoll.”

“I left nothing behind, I was merely tired.”

She was subjected to the Sinclair look from the only gray eyes in the family.

“Beth Brunt came and saw me the day before we left.” Essie decided on a half-truth. She was not lying if she omitted all details about Max, surely?

Eden’s eyes softened. She, Essie, and Beth had played together as young girls. Those days had seen Beth happy and healthy; she was no longer either of those things.

“She has miscarried many times, and is thin and weak, and that brute of a husband of hers will give her no peace!” Essie felt the anger again.

“Oh no, Essie. That is so horrible.”

“Murray Brunt came to Oak’s Knoll that night to tell me to stay away from her. He called me a witch.”

“Dear Lord, did he threaten you?”

“He tried, but I had Bertie and Josiah with me, and a patient was also there, so Brunt was all bluster.” See, not a lie; she had told the entire truth without bringing Max’s name into it.

“What patient?”

Damn.

“A man, you don’t know him. He and the brothers got rid of Brunt. Plus Myrtle, who chased after him growling savagely.”

“What was this man’s name?”

“I told you, it was Murray Brunt.”

The thing about a Sinclair was that they were relentless in their pursuit of answers until they were satisfied, and could rarely be deviated from their course. Essie did not like to lie to her siblings, for no other reason than they always knew when she was. She would do so otherwise in a heartbeat, if the lie was only a small, insignificant one.

“As you very well know, I did not mean that fool. I want to know the patient’s name.”

“I don’t like to talk about my patients, you know that.”

Eden leaned forward and gave Essie the full force of her glare.

“You are evading answering me, and I want to know why?”

Essie looked out the window as she felt the carriage slow.

“Wonderful, we are here!”

Opening the door, she clambered out with more haste than elegance. Eden followed, looking as if she were royalty.

Chapter Ten

“We must walk up the lane, Eden, as it is too narrow for the carriage.”

“I have not finished with this conversation, Essie.”

“I have.”

“I will find someone to watch the horses and accompany you, your Grace, Miss Sinclair.”

“No need, Bids. We are quite capable of walking the short distance to that shop you see there.” Waving a hand down the lane, Essie did not make eye contact with Dev’s driver. The man was a terrible worrier.

“But—”

“Honestly, Bids, there is no need for all this fretting.”

“You never know who’s lurking about, your Grace.”

“We will scream should some miscreant approach. Will that ease your fears?”

“Very well, your Grace.”

Essie could see he wasn’t convinced, but she and Eden struck out anyway.

“His poor wife is expecting their first child any day now, and can you imagine what he is putting her through, Essie?”

“Oh dear, yes I can.” Essie knew Bids would be smothering his wife with concern. “I shall have a chat with him, and try to reassure him.”

The air was not as clean as in Crunston Cliff; in fact it was filled with the scents of chimney smoke, cooking, and many others, all mingling to create an odd yet strangely invigorating aroma.

She climbed the two rickety steps that lead to Mr. Riley’s Apothecary Shop, then opened the door and entered.

“Good morning to you, Miss Sinclair.”

“Good morning, Mr. Riley. This is my sister, the Duchess of Raven.”

“Your Grace, it is an honor.” The man bowed deeply.

“If you will fill this order for me, I shall see what else you have that may interest me.” Essie handed him her list.

“I shall see to it at once.”

This shop was one of only a few that Essie believed held truly excellent supplies. She could find most things here, and what wasn’t readily available, Mr. Riley would source for her. She had stumbled across it on her first visit to London, and had returned often since.

Essie inspected instruments in cabinets and selected two carboys. The clear glass vessels would be excellent for use at Oak’s Knoll. She moved to a shelf lined with books, and saw one that caught her attention.

“I shall take this copy of The English Physician also, please Mr. Riley. I have long sought a copy.”

“Oh indeed, its lists of plants and herbs, preparations and usage, are unsurpassed.” The man took it down from the shelf and added it to her rapidly growing pile of goods.

“I would also recommend to you a building on Nettle Lane, Miss Sinclair. Recently opened, it has a large quantity of herbs and other medical supplies, plus several books that may interest you. You will get burdock and anemone juice there, as I am out of those at this time.”

Essie took the card Mr. Riley held out to her.

“Huntington’s Supplies.” She read the black lettering. “Have you been there, Mr. Riley?”

The man rocked back on his heels as he nodded. Not overly tall, he barely reached her chin.

“Oh indeed, and I purchase a great deal from there, I assure you, Miss Sinclair. The owner is a wealthy merchant, and he has many business interests in the United Kingdom, from what I gather. There are three warehouses filled with many different things, but the one of interest to you is the first you will come to.”

“Well, thank you, and I shall return to your wonderful store before I leave again.”

“And I shall have your purchases sent directly to Lord Sinclair’s address.”

“Essie, come and look at this.”

She moved to where her sister was looking down into a glass-topped cabinet.

“Performance enhancer,” Eden whispered. “For men who... well, you know.”

“Eden!” Essie glanced over her shoulder, but Mr. Riley had his back turned to them. “Come away at once.”

“James certainly has no need of that.” Eden giggled as they left the shop.

“I cannot believe you are discussing that”—Essie waved her hand about—“in public!”

“It is hardly public with only one man in the shop, and he was not listening. Besides, we have discussed such matters before.”

“You’re carrying my niece or nephew. What will it make of your scandalous behavior?”

“I’m sure it cannot hear me, or for that matter understand what I say.”

“I wonder if it will have your hearing.” Essie took her sister’s arm as they started walking back down the lane. She missed this when she was parted from her family, the familiarity born from years and years of living with her siblings. “How are Emily and Samantha?”

“Samantha is wonderful, full of life, mischievous as ever, and Emily is still shy and quiet. But sometimes, Essie, when only Samantha is with her, she changes. It’s as if she comes to life. I hear them laughing and doing silly things when she thinks no one is listening, which I assure you James and I often are. He is very gentle with her, but there is still a barrier there that he cannot breach.”

“Time and patience will get him there, I am sure. Her life was a very difficult one, from the little I have learned.”

“Does it still hurt to think about Tolly, Essie?”

Tolly had been Emily’s brother, and it had been he Essie had believed she loved.

Gently prodding around in her heart, she thought perhaps it didn’t hurt anymore. She thought about Max then, and hoped he was healing well, and not alone. This had worried her more than anything when he’d told her. Everyone should have someone to turn to, surely?

“No, it hurts no longer.”

Eden squeezed her arm. When she reached the carriage, Bids looked relieved. Honestly, he was worse than Dev.

“We wish to go to this address now, if you please, Bids,” Essie said, handing him the card she’d received from Mr. Riley.

“Oh but—”

“At once, Bids, and you’ll stop your bellyaching,” Eden said, motioning Essie into the carriage. “Honestly, we are grown women, and it is daylight!”

Essie looked at the buildings as they passed. Some narrow, others tall or small. People bustled about, some earning their keep, others strolling at a slower pace with little but a day of leisure before them. The carriage rolled on slowly while she sat beside her sister in companionable silence.

She’d thought about her reaction to Max often. It had been instant and unsettling, almost uncomfortable, like wearing a shirt covered in hair. His touch had made her shiver; just a brush of his fingers and she had ached for more. How had she reacted so to a stranger she knew nothing about?

Was she starved for affection?

Thinking of it now, she felt incredibly foolish about her reactions, especially when she’d found him gone. Essie was the clearheaded Sinclair. She was the reliable one. She didn’t fall about the place in vapors, or lust after men. That just wasn’t her way.

Perhaps she had still been vulnerable? What had happened with Tolly must have left her exposed, and she had been there with only Cam, so her thoughts had not been occupied with her family, but only her own. Yes, that was the reason, surely. It wasn’t just Max, it could have been any man and she would have reacted in the manner she had. Hardly flattering, and it had cost her her innocence, and yet she would never regret that. The night they’d shared was a warm memory and would stay that way for as long as she lived.

“What are you thinking of to make you frown so?”

“Do you consider me weak and vulnerable, Eden?” Essie answered her sister’s question with one of her own.

“No! Good Lord, where did that come from?” Eden looked genuinely horrified. “You are strong and resilient, and twice the person I could ever be.”

Essie wished she’d kept her thoughts to herself. “Now you’re just being silly.”

“I’m not being silly. You are a wonderful, strong woman, and I often envy you.”

Essie flicked her fingers, dismissing her sister’s words. “Even my sense is a silly one. Who needs accentuated taste buds?”

“I’m not sure where you are going with this, Essie, but I have never thought of you or your sense as silly.”

Neither was she, so she plowed on. Now she’d started, she could not back out, and perhaps it was time to say how she felt. She’d touched on the subject with Cam, and he too had been vehement in denying what she had always believed about herself.

“I have always felt inferior to you, Dev, and Cam. Not as vibrant. As if I am constantly in the shadows.”

Eden was struck speechless. Her mouth fell open as she grappled with what Essie had said.

“You’ll trap something in there if you do not close it,” Essie muttered when Eden remained silent.

“I cannot believe you feel this way, Essie. Cannot believe you do not see yourself as we do. Strong and silent, yes, but intelligent, and resourceful. You are the important piece in the Sinclair family. You’re our strength. Only you could do what you do, tend the masses.”

“Hardly masses, Eden. You’re exaggerating again, and please forget I said anything. I’m not sure why I did.”

“You would not have said those words if they hadn’t been bothering you for some time.”

“It matters not. It was silly to bring it up.”

“It matters to you, my dear, infuriating sister. You need to understand that without you, Essie, we, the family, are not whole.”

Essie swallowed several times. “I— That was a lovely thing to say, Eden.”

“And the truth!” her sister snapped crossly. “Honestly, you are a goose sometimes, Essie. How could you even think that way, when every day we show you what you mean to us. There is not an hour goes by where someone is not asking you something.”

She thought about that and realized that in fact it was the truth.

“When you and Cam left for Oak’s Knoll, Dev came to visit me with Lilly later that day. He was morose, and I felt the same. We both felt as if someone had lopped off a limb.”

“Charming,” Essie said, but inside she was warm.

“How long have you felt that way?”

Forever.

“Not long.”

Eden leaned forward and studied Essie, her lovely eyes serious. “You’re lying to me, but I shall leave that for now, and instead say that the thought of going through this,” she pointed to her stomach, “without you is quite frankly terrifying.”

“I will be here for both you and Lilly, Eden.”

“Because you are you, I know that. So let us have no more of this other rubbish, if you please. Quite simply, you are our linchpin, Essex Sinclair.”

Essie nodded, feeling ridiculously happy. She wondered why she had never spoken the words before.

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, both women deep in thought. When they stopped, Essie climbed down and went to stand below Bids. The man had a strained look on his face as he scanned the area around them. Essie suspected he was looking for undesirable people who at any minute would appear and attack her and Eden.

“Bids, I understand your wife is with child. Please allow me to congratulate you both.”

He dropped his eyes to her, and the color leeched from his face.

“Yes, w-we are... I mean, Mrs. Bids is expecting a child soon, Miss Sinclair.”

“I need you to listen to what I am saying now, Bids. Listen very carefully. Can you do that for me?” He nodded, eyes wary. “Woman deliver happy, healthy babies daily here in London. Wife and child all do well, with no mishaps.”

“I understand that, Miss Sinclair, but—”

Essie raised a hand. “I know you have heard stories, we all have, about things going wrong. But I want you to also know that I will stay in London until your child is seen safely into this world, Bids. I am available to you at any time of the day or night, and more than capable of helping your wife should she need it. I have delivered too many healthy babies to count.”

The man’s mouth opened and closed several times as he fought for the right words.

“I-I can never thank you enough, Miss Sinclair, for that offer. It’s true I’m right worried, but knowing you are near will relieve my mind.”

“Excellent. Now you must listen to my next piece of advice very carefully, do you understand, Bids?”

“Yes, Miss Sinclair.”

“You must not upset your wife by continually worrying her about her condition or what she is doing. She will know her limitations, and does not need them pointed out to her. Let her stay healthy and relaxed whenever possible. If you have any concerns regarding her condition, come to me instead.”

He nodded eagerly. “Oh indeed, I will. Perhaps you would have a tonic I can give my Ellie, as she’s been awful tired of late.”

Essie smiled. “Indeed I do. I will prepare it as soon as I return to the house.” She saw the tight look on his face ease as Bids smiled down at her.

“’Tis very kind of you, Miss Sinclair.”

“And you think you are weak,” Eden scoffed, linking her arm through Essie’s. “Well done, sister, I do believe you have just done Bids’ wife a great service.”

“Let us hope so.”

Three large brick buildings stood before them. A path had been laid to the doors, and the place looked neat and tidy, with no piles of rubbish. The windows were clean, none broken, and it boded well for what lay inside. She felt her anticipation gather as she and Eden headed for the front door of the first building, where Mr. Riley had told her to go. Knocking, they stood back to wait.

“Good morning.” A young boy appeared. His clothes were tidy, cap on straight. His fingers were clasped around a cane.

“Good morning. I recently visited Mr. Riley’s Apothecary Shop, and he directed me here, as I am in need of purchasing some medical items.”

The young boy smiled, and it was as he turned his head that Essie realized he was blind.

“Good morning to you. Please come inside, and I shall call someone to look after your needs.”

Essie felt a surge of excitement as she entered the large warehouse and smelled the scents emanating from inside. Dried herbs hung from racks, and tables were laid out with a myriad of things that made her eyes widen. She found jars, bottles, and bandages. Further down the table she saw more books.

“I hear your surprise,” the boy said.

“Yes indeed, there are a great many things on display.”

The boy smiled again. “Yes, Mr. Huntington thought that people would like to have all their needs catered for under a single roof.

“In the next warehouse we have household supplies, and next to that fabrics, trims, and everything required for garment making.”

“Really? How wonderful! It is incredibly forward-thinking of whoever is behind this endeavor.”

“Mr. Huntington is a forward-thinking man, madam, and something of a visionary in many things. His work in steam power is unsurpassed.”

“Really? My brothers and husband would be intrigued to hear that,” Eden said.

“Please excuse me while I get someone to look after you.”

“Can you not do that?” Essie asked the boy.

“Of course. However, some people would rather have someone with the use of their eyes helping them.”

“Not us.” Essie looked at her sister.

“No indeed, young man. We are fully aware of just how strong the senses are when one is removed.”

Eden’s words surprised him, and Essie guessed he had come up against a great deal of prejudice in his life.

“In that case, then let me lead you to the first grouping of products. My name is Silver.”

“What a lovely name,” Essie said, following him. Soon she was lost in the wonder of what was on display before her, and all other thoughts were pushed to one side. This was all she needed in her life. Her vocation would keep her focused and busy.

Chapter Eleven

“The only lease I could procure for the season is for that house, Max. Lord Alverson has been forced to leave town due to ill health, supposedly, and yet I have it on good authority he’s leasing his house at an exorbitant price as his finances are dwindling fast.”

“And it is on a street where many wealthy nobles live? You know how I feel about that, Edward.”

“And yet it is the only one available on short notice.”

Max looked across his desk to where his steward and friend stood. A head shorter than he, and thin, having not yet developed into the man he would one day be, at twenty Edward believed he often knew better than Max. Max had made his steward aware on many occasions that was not the case.

“And you say the repairs to my town house will take many weeks?”

“The fire destroyed a great deal before it was put out, Max. You could always remain at the hotel?”

“I have no wish to remain at the hotel. There is very little privacy, and the staff need to be resettled.”

“Then shall I say yes to leasing it? After all, it has never bothered you before to upset nobility. If any of the boys visit, I’m sure they will be on their best behavior.”

“No, it has not, and they are better behaved than most of those nobs and their chinless progeny, anyway.”

“Well then, it is settled. I will organize the move for as soon as possible,” Edward said. “Now, about the mill you have just purchased. Are you sure about the acquisition, and conversion from water to steam, as it will take all your time—”

“Edward,” Max said in a voice that made his steward’s eyes widen. “If I wish to buy all the ice in the United Kingdom and leave it out in the midday sun, then that is my choice to do so. Your job is to say, yes Max. I like the mill, and while it is run-down in its present state, with changes it will produce great yields. Therefore, I believe the matter is now closed.”

Edward gave him a small smile. “You hired me to advise you, so I will continue to do that, Max.”

“I hired you because you can calculate figures quicker than me, and like me you are not bound anywhere. Plus, there is the matter that no one else will have you, so I feel duty bound to keep you employed.”

“You are lucky to have me,” the younger man scoffed.

Edward and Max had known each other for many years, but he did not speak of his past, and as Max did not like to either, they made excellent friends.

“Upstart.”

“I live to please, and on that matter, there is a wonderful room facing the gardens in Lord Alverson’s for those rare nights I am forced to work into the early morning hours and have no energy to drive home.”

“As long as mine is better, you can have it,” Max said.

Edward bowed deep, which he knew annoyed Max, and let himself out of the office.

Max sat back in his chair and looked around him. Once, this small room would have seemed like a palace to him. Now, he kept offices all over the United Kingdom in various properties and businesses he owned. Some big, others smaller, all fitted with what he needed. Today had found him here, as he had wanted to see how the three warehouses he had set up were running. Plus check on the staff who ran them for him.

“Mr. Huntington, if I may have a word?”

“Of course, Mrs. Floyd.” Max waved the woman inside. She looked after the warehouses and oversaw the staff, most of whom were young boys he’d rescued from ships.

“Peter is not well, Mr. Huntington, but putting a brave face on.”

“His breathing again?”

The woman nodded.

“I’ll come and see him, and we’ll get the doctor to look him over.”

She was a solid woman, as round as she was wide, and one with a great deal of sense.

“Any doctor is going to tell you he’s got a weakness, and try and take more of his blood, but that doesn’t help him breathe easier, and only makes him weaker.”

“Then we will keep searching until we get him help.”

She nodded, face solemn. It took a great deal to make Mrs. Floyd smile.

“I’ll go and see to the ladies now then, and leave the matter in your hands.”

“Ladies?” Max felt a shiver pass along his spine, and could find no reason for it.

“They just arrived, and Silver is showing them around the warehouses, as they were happy for him to do so. But I want to be there should they ask any questions he can’t answer.”

“Very well.” Max nodded.

He wasn’t sure what had him on his feet. Intuition, longing, or just a need to stretch his legs. But seconds later he followed Mrs. Floyd out the door, and walked to where he could look down into the warehouse.

He had been restless since leaving Oak’s Knoll in the early hours of that morning. Restless and aching. His clothes felt uncomfortable and his skin the wrong fit. It was her fault, of course. Essex Sinclair. Just thinking about her heated his blood. He’d known the woman for two days. How was it possible he could think of nothing but her?

Did she think of him? Had she been upset and angry when she found him gone? She had every right to be so. After all, he’d taken her innocence and fled, after convincing himself his actions had been for the best. Strangely, with time and distance that thought had not comforted him.

The night they had made love had recreated itself in side his head so many times now that he loathed going to sleep in case she visited him again. The colors of her hair and eyes, the taste of her lips and skin. Her smile, and the sounds she had made as he’d run his mouth over her body.

He’d left, vowing never to think of her again, and thought of nothing else.

Guilt sat heavily on his shoulders for what he had done, and yet had he not left then, Max feared he would never have found the strength to do so, and that would not do.

“I rely on no one.”

His eyes ran over the shelves and rows of plants, then down the tables laden with supplies.

“Essie.” The name left his lips as he saw the back of a woman’s head.

How he knew it was her, he knew not. Only that for the first time since he had left her his heart felt light, and the ache inside him began to ease.

His feet didn’t seem able to move, so he stood and watched her as she walked down the rows. Bending occasionally, she’d sniff something, or brush her bare fingers over an item. He remembered how they had felt on his skin.

“Turn around,” he whispered, and was rewarded seconds later. Although he could not see her face clearly, the impact made his hands clench. His need for this woman had not eased by even an inch. He had dreamed of her, lusted after her, and longed for her every day since leaving her at Oak’s Knoll.

“Damn you, why?” he whispered. “What is about you that has caught and held me?”

Max usually bedded a woman and then never thought of them again, but not this one.

He’d known she was coming to London, but had doubted their paths would cross; it seemed he was wrong. Was she here to replenish her supplies? Or was one of her beloved family sick or injured? Was that why she was now walking about in his warehouse, just feet from where he stood?

“And yet you can never have her,” he whispered.

She wore a deep, rich burgundy bonnet and spencer, the latter covering her lovely breasts. Breasts he had laved in kisses, and pressed to his chest. Her dress was cream with burgundy stripes. Max knew fabrics, and this, he could tell, was good quality. Gone was the woman who often had her hair falling all over the place or bound by wool, and wore worn dresses. Essex Sinclair was now an elegantly dressed young lady of London society. Her gloves were off, he guessed so she could feel and smell. Looking down the row, he found another woman. Would it be the sister, or sister-in-law, or another?

He didn’t hesitate; in seconds he was taking the stairs down. She would be shocked to see him, and yes, likely angry, but he cared little for that; he wanted to see her. The sense of anticipation thrumming through him should have been enough to keep Max where he was. No good could come from this, but still his feet carried him toward her. Approaching quietly from behind, he stopped a foot from her.

“Hello, Essex.”

She had a handful of dried sage in one hand, and he heard the crackle as she crushed it, sending a waft of scent into the air. Her shoulders rose and then fell before she opened her hand and dropped the herb. Turning, she looked at him.

“Max... Mr. Hunter?” He saw the flare of joy as her eyes ran over his face, and then it was gone, replaced by confusion. “Why are you here?”

“You look beautiful,” he said, not wanting to give her an answer. He’d let her deliberately believe he had nothing to his name. No money or house, when the truth was very different.

“I-I— Thank you.” Her eyes ran over his clothes, taking in the cut of his jacket and shine of his boots. He saw the moment she came to the right answer.

“Y-you’re Mr. Huntington?”

“Essie, I never told you about my life because—”

“Mr. Huntington, this is Miss Sinclair and the Duchess of Raven.”

Silver interrupted him as he made his way to where Max and Essie stood. At his side was Eden, Essie’s sister.

“Your Grace.” Max bowed low, and when he rose he saw the hurt and anger on Essie’s face.

“You are Mr. Huntington?”

“I am.” Max watched her expression as she slowly came to the realization of just who and what he was.

“Is this your warehouse, sir?”

“Essie—”

“Please answer the question.”

“It is.”

“Y-you played me for a fool.” The whispered words made him wince.

“I never denied or confirmed your words, Essex. You came to the conclusion I was penniless on your own.”

“You told me you had no one and nowhere to go. You told me your name was Mr. Hunter. That is a lie!”

Max winced. Yes, he had said those words.

“If you will just give me some time to explain, I—”

“I have had more than enough of men making a fool out of me to stand here and listen to more lies.” She was furious now the shock had worn off.

“Essie, what is going on here?”

This was the sister she believed outshone her in every way. Yes, she was pretty, but her beauty could not compare with Essie’s.

“What is going on is that we are leaving, Eden. Come along,” Essie said.

As Max was standing in her way, she could do nothing but glare at him.

“Please move.”

“Let me talk, I deserve that much.” He touched her simply because he could not do otherwise. The shock traveled up his arm as their skin connected, and then she was stepping back and away from him.

“There is nothing to discuss, Mr. Huntington. Good day.”

So cold and polite; all the fire had gone from her. The lovely healer was treating him to the disdain that he deserved. You took her innocence and left. How is she meant to behave?

Before Max could stop her, she’d turned and was dragging her sister by the hand down the row of trestle tables. They then came back up the next.

Frustrated, and yes, aroused from just seeing her, inhaling her scent, Max spoke. “I never believed you a coward,” he said as she drew level.

“I call it self-preservation, sir.” She looked at him briefly; her eyes were no longer expressionless, they were now charged with the heat of anger. “You see, I tend to trust on short acquaintance, and the results are never in my favor.”

“Essie, I just want to talk.” She seemed almost unreachable, miles apart from the woman he had met at Oak’s Knoll, the gentle, kindhearted healer. In fact, she looked just like him on any given day. Everything shut away, no weakness showing.

“There is nothing we need say to each other, Mr. Huntington, and please call me Miss Sinclair.”

Max was used to getting what he wanted. He rarely, if ever, failed, but looking at that elevated chin, he thought that perhaps he was going to have work a great deal harder with Miss Essex Sinclair. It surprised him that he wanted to do just that, especially as any path that led to her would surely spell trouble for him.

“I will leave if you wish to purchase your supplies, Miss Sinclair.”

“No, thank you.”

“Stubborn to the point of stupidity,” he snapped, his own temper tweaking. “I had thought you more intelligent than that.” Max resorted to needling her to get a response. He knew he had no right to feel the bite of anger and frustration, and yet he did. “A healer does whatever they must for their patients, I believe you once said to me.”

She looked at him briefly; he saw the flare of emotion, and then she had closed herself away once again.

“A healer must also do what it takes to keep themselves safe, sir.”

“I am no threat to you!”

“As you will never be again, Mr. Huntington.”

With those words she continued on down the row and out the door, leaving Max alone, as he’d always been, only this time it was not by choice.

Chapter Twelve

“To hell with that!” Max roared, stalking after her. He reached her carriage as she did.

His hand stopped the door from opening.

“I need your help.”

“I do not want to help you ever again, Mr. Huntington. So please step away from the carriage.”

“I have a boy in there,” he pointed to the warehouse next to the one she had just left. “He is sick, and unless I can get him help, he will likely die.”

The duchess was looking from Max to Essie, eyes wide as she tried to understand what was taking place.

“Call a doctor.”

“Essie!” Her sister looked horrified.

“I am not asking you to speak to me. I merely want you to look at Peter. He struggles to breathe, and today he is worse. I want to help him, as I’m sure do you, but unlike you I do not know how.” Max knew her soft heart would never allow her to walk away.

“How do I know it is not another lie on your part?”

“I would never lie about something as important as this, as you very well know.”

She faced him. “I know nothing about you, and do not care to.”

“Then care for the boy and leave.” Max knew he’d won when her shoulders slumped.

“Very well, take me to him, but I have nothing with me to tend him.”

“As you see, I do,” Max said, which made the sister’s lips twitch, but not Essie’s.

“Do you wish to stay here, Eden?”

“Not on your life,” the duchess said, taking her sister’s arm. “Lead on, Mr. Huntington.”

No one spoke as he led the way into the second building. Peter, he knew, would be seated down the end, sorting supplies. He could do little else, as his strength let him down, and while Max continually told him he need not work when he was feeling unwell, the boy insisted upon it.

Max was proud of what he’d achieved, and usually happy to walk through his warehouses, but not today. Today he wanted to turn and look at Essie, soak in her beauty and see her smile at him again. Something that was not looking likely in the near future.

He located Peter, and the boy struggled to his feet as they approached. The wheeze in his breath made Max feel helpless.

“Don’t rise, boy.” Max laid a hand on one bony shoulder and settled him gently back in the seat. Small and thin, Peter had pain etched in every line of his face. He was twelve years old, and his eyes were those of a much older person.

“You t-told me I cannot sit in the presence of ladies, Max.” His speech was labored, his breathing choppy.

“I know, but as one of them is here to look at your chest, you’ll just have to sit when she tells you to, so you may as well stay there,” Max reasoned with him.

“One of them’s looking at my chest?” The boy looked worried. He’d suffered far too much pain in his life already for one so young. “But that doctor you took me to last week said he couldn’t help, and that was after he’d taken more blood.”

“I know, Peter, but I think Miss Sinclair may be able to.”

“Hello.” Max stepped aside as Essie moved closer. “Will you let me help you, Peter? I know quite a bit about tending people, and I promise you there will be no more bloodletting.”

The smile she gave the boy made the muscles in Max’s stomach tighten.

The boy nodded, still looking wary.

“Does it hurt to inhale, Peter?”

The boy nodded. “It’s hard to breathe sometimes.”

Max watched as she dropped to her knees beside him. She tore off her gloves and threw them to the floor beside her, uncaring where they landed or in what.

“I’m going to lift up your shirt now, dear, and look at your ribs.”

Peter’s body was painfully thin, and Max cursed again the man who had mistreated him. He watched the skin suck in between his ribs with each breath he struggled to draw.

“Is your breathing worse when it’s cold, Peter?”

He nodded.

“And when you are sick, or have the sniffles?”

He nodded.

“Is it always clear fluid that comes from your nose?”

The boy nodded again, although color had ridden high in his cheeks. Max could hear the rasp of his breathing as he tried to draw air into his lungs.

“Blanket, please,” Essie said, lifting her eyes to look at Max, cool and impersonal. “And a length of soft material that he can wear around his neck. It needs to be long enough to wrap around twice.”

“I’ll get it, Mr. Huntington.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Floyd,” Max said to the woman.

“Now, Peter, I want you to get on your knees and lean on the chair. Can you do that for me?”

The boy looked to Max, who in turn nodded. So he struggled to rise, with Essie’s help, then got to his knees. She positioned his arms as she wanted them.

“You see, the problem is, Peter, that when you tense your body and hunch your shoulders, you are closing your chest, and then it is harder to breathe. In this position, you have opened the airways.”

Max saw instantly that Essie was right, and wondered again how she could not believe she was special, not believe she was an angel.

“Now this is the tricky part, Peter, but between us we will get through it. I am going to rest my hand on your stomach, and I want you to breathe deeply and push it out. Because what is happening is that you are only taking small, shallow breaths, when in fact you need to be taking big deep ones, right through your body.”

“How do you know my sister, Mr. Huntington?”

Max looked at the duchess, who had moved to his side. She had gray eyes, unlike her sister, and they were narrowed and focused on him.

“Pardon?” Max kept his expression carefully blank.

“My sister knows you, Mr. Huntington, and I want to know from where,” she whispered. “Her reaction to you was instant, and her behavior tells me she is not happy with you. Tell me why?”

“I’m sure if your sister wishes you to know the details she will tell you, your Grace.”

“She’s terribly closemouthed,” the duchess said, surprising him. “And getting information out of her that she is unwilling to share usually takes a great deal of skill and bribery.”

That surprised a snort out of him, which he was immediately ashamed of.

“Forgive my rudeness, your Grace.”

“Mr. Huntington, I have three brothers and three sisters. None of them, I assure you, would give a thought to snorting in my presence, therefore there is nothing to forgive... unless of course you have upset my sister in any way I find unforgivable. Then, I assure you, snorting will be the least of your worries.”

Max shot the duchess a look to see if he’d heard her right. She was smiling, but not with her eyes.

“For pity’s sake, Mr. Huntington, smile, and don’t show my sister we are conversing in any but a polite manner.”

“Most would be surprised were I to smile,” he muttered, doing as she asked.

“Now, tell me how you know my sister.”

“Can we perhaps leave it that we do know each other, but it is up to her to tell you how?” There was no use in denying it, as Essie had shown her hand when first they met.

The duchess did not look happy with Max’s answer.

“I’m with child, Mr. Huntington. Surely you can see how easily I am upset. My nerves, you know....”

Max couldn’t help it; he snorted again.

“Now, your Grace, that may work on your husband, however it will not work on me. But please, allow me to offer my congratulations for the happy event... whenever it may be.”

Her mouth pursed, and there was definitely a sparkle in her eyes, which she tried to blink away.

“How frustrating.” She sighed. “You’re not related to my husband, are you, as he is not easily manipulated either.”

“I don’t think there is a duke in my lineage, no.”

Her eyes studied him for long drawn-out seconds, and Max resisted the urge to shuffle his feet at the intensity of her gaze.

“Very well, I shall have to resort to bribery to get the information I want.”

“It’s probably your best bet,” Max added.

“Peter is not pleased to have someone else examine him, but my sister has a way about her that soothes people. He is already telling her what she wants to know.”

Max couldn’t hear a thing from where they stood, as Essie had her head lowered and Peter was whispering, but he knew how gentle Essie was when she was caring for someone.

“I have excellent hearing, Mr. Huntington.”

“So do I, normally.”

She smiled, and he saw Essie in the look.

“Clear the table, please, and lay the blanket on it.”

Essie didn’t look at the man behind her, she focused all her attention on the sweet little boy who was struggling to breathe. Max, she would think about later, when she was alone in her room.

“Does your breathing feel easier now, Peter?”

He nodded, and she could hear it was, although it was still loud and raspy.

“Now, I am going to lift you onto the table, Peter. I assure you what we are about to do is no less taxing than what you have done, so there is no need to worry.”

“I will lift him.”

“Your injury?” Essie said as Max moved closer.

“Is healed.”

Max lifted the boy gently into his arms, and held his free hand out to her. Not taking it would be churlish, which was exactly how she was feeling. Rising unaccompanied, she directed Max to put Peter down.

“Your breathing is better, Peter,” Max said.

She watched as he rested a hand on the boy’s forehead, looking down at him. The boy looked at Max with hero worship, and Essie wondered about their relationship. In fact, she wondered about all the boys she had seen in here.

Not that I care. Scoundrel. How dared he mislead her as to his situation! The man likely had more money than her family.

Picking up her gloves, she tucked them together into a ball, and opened her reticule and put them inside. She then lowered it to the boy’s stomach.

“I am going to show you an exercise, Peter, and I wish you to do it as often as you can. At least at night before you close your eyes, and in the morning when you open them.”

The boy nodded.

“I want you to breathe deeply, and in doing so lift my reticule into the air, and then lower it.”

The first breath was too shallow.

“Push your stomach out with the inhale, Peter, and in when you exhale.”

By the fourth he was doing it.

“Well, that is impressive.” Eden clapped her hands as she moved to Peter’s side. “You have picked that up a great deal faster than my sibling, Dorrie. She took at least a week.”

“There, you see, Peter, you have impressed a duchess,” Essie said, moving closer to Max.

“May I have a private word with you, Mr. Huntington?”

“Of course.” He took her arm and led her to a room that was used to store supplies. It had a door, and a window on the outer wall.

“I shall return shortly, Eden. I need to speak with Mr. Huntington.”

“Go.” Her sister waved her away.

Max ushered her into the room; once they were inside, he closed the door behind them.

“Please open the door. I merely wish Peter not to hear us converse.”

“Your hands are shaking, Essex. You have no need to be nervous around me.”

She pushed them behind her back when he reached for them. She never wanted this man’s touch again.

“Miss Sinclair, and I am not nervous around you, my worry for the boy made them shake.” Essie cursed herself for a fool for saying the words. No one knew how scared she sometimes became treating patients.

“Why?”

“Be quiet and listen, please. I wish to discuss the boy.”

“But I wish to discuss why your hands are shaking. Does this happen often? Or is it when you treat very sick people?”

No one knew how she sometimes reacted after dealing with a very ill person, and she did not want this man to be the only one.

“If you will not tell me that, then let me say I did not deliberately mislead you, Essex.”

“Miss Sinclair, and that has no bearing on the boy.”

He moved closer to where she stood, and she took a backward step.

“I left Oak’s Knoll—”

“What are Peter’s living conditions?” she interrupted him, her eyes on his left shoulder. “It is imperative that he not live in a damp, moldy room.”

“As of two weeks ago, warm and dry.”

“Good, and is there plenty of nourishing food? Fruits and vegetables?”

“There is.”

Essie nodded, hating that she was so aware of him, this man she knew nothing about—actually, that wasn’t true, she now knew he was a wealthy merchant. Her brothers or uncle could likely fill in the rest of the gaps, were she to ask them, as they knew a great many people just like him.

“Essie, I left because—”

“I don’t want you to speak about that. I want to hear no more lies, plus my sister has excellent hearing, so please lower your voice.”

“She can surely not hear from where she is standing?”

Yes, she can, but Essie did not say the words out loud.

“My sister-in-law runs a house for children who live on the streets. If at any time Peter is not able to have those things I spoke of, please let me know, and I will send him there.”

“I will look after his welfare.”

“He is far too thin, and I fear the smog and damp will harm him. It is vital he is kept warm and dry.”

He wrapped his hands around her shoulders.

“I don’t feel things for people. I have found it is better that way.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of your lies. Release me at once!”

“No.”

She tried to shrug free, but his fingers remained on her arms.

“H-he needs a drink of cloves and honey. The cl-cloves must be boiled and the honey added. It will help him.”

“Look at me.”

She shook her head.

“You made me feel things, and I have found it better not to, so I left Oak’s Knoll.”

She looked up at him then, and fought against the invading weakness being near him caused inside her once again. “I don’t even know what that means. How can you just decide not to feel things?”

His eyes held hers, the tawny depths mesmerizing.

“It has always worked for me.”

Which told her that he had never been loved, or had a close relationship with anyone. In that, he had not lied. The lion was alone in this world.

“Release me, please.”

His hands moved, rubbing circles on her shoulders, and damn her to hell, she could feel her body softening and her defenses lowering.

“I’m sorry I left you after what we shared, Essie. I had no right to do so, but—”

“It matters not.” Essie cut him off. “You are nothing to me, as I am nothing to you. Now, please tell me why these boys are here?”

“You should be nothing to me,” he said, and she saw the confusion inside him.

“The boys....”

“Do you believe I am mistreating them, Essie? Do you think me capable of such deeds?”

“I know nothing of you, how am I to know what you would do?”

“What does your instinct tell you about me?”

“I-I don’t believe in instinct, I believe in fact. You, Mr. Huntington, lied to me, so I will never trust you again. However, for some reason I do believe you are not hurting those boys. Am I right?”

“They are cabin boys... or were,” he said softly. “They have each been mistreated.”

“So you rescued them?”

“Yes.”

“You are right to be wary of me, but know that I would never hurt someone with a soul as beautiful as yours.”

“Stop it,” Essie hissed. “Stop talking like I mattered to you, as I know I did not. What is important now is Peter, and ensuring he recovers.”

His grip on her tightened, and then he was pulling her forward until her breasts touched the hard planes of his chest.

“Let me go now. My sister is....” The words fell from Essie’s lips as he lowered his head.

The kiss was everything she remembered and more. The feel of his lips on hers, the scent of his large body. She felt it again, the wonderful ache inside her that only this man had ever made her feel.

He lifted his lips and she saw the passion in his eyes.

“When I saw you in my warehouse, all I could think was that I wanted you in my arms again.” His breath brushed her lips. “And yet I know I have no right to touch you this way.”

She fought for sanity, fought against the drugging need to close the gap between their mouths once more.

“Let me go,” Essie whispered.

His eyes ran over her face, and whatever he saw had him releasing her.

“This cannot happen between us again. Will not,” Essie said, then turned away and walked from the room.

Eden threw her a glance as she returned, but she did not answer the questions in her sister’s eyes. Of course, there was every likelihood she had heard the conversation that took place in the storeroom, anyway.

“Now you may sit up, Peter, and I want you to listen to me carefully, as I have some things I need you to do.”

Max arrived in time to help the boy rise. Essie kept her eyes from him.

“I need you to stay warm at all times. Wear scarves, and if possible woolen jumpers. If you go out in the cold weather, or the air is very cold, then I want you to breathe through your scarf, Peter. Can you do that for me?”

“I-I can try.”

“I have a chest rub, and a tonic I want you to take. Plus, I have told Mr. Huntington that boiling cloves and adding honey will help ease your breathing. I will come back and see you soon, Peter, but if at any time your condition worsens, then someone will come for me.”

“I will do so.”

She did not look at Max, but nodded to say she had heard.

“Clean air is the best thing for you also, Peter. If the smoke is thick, then breathe through your scarf again. If you are sick, then take extra care to dress warm, and do not exert yourself. If you are struggling to breathe, then do not exert yourself.”

“He will not be allowed to do so,” Max said.

Essie patted the boy’s thin shoulder.

“Thank you, I am feeling better, Miss Sinclair.”

He looked it, Essie thought, but was still a long way from healthy.

“I have the material you wanted.” Mrs. Floyd arrived.

Essie took it, and wrapped it twice around Peter’s neck, and then tucked it down his shirtfront.

“Use this until I send you some woolen scarves, Peter. Remember to breathe into it if the weather gets cold.”

Essie then brushed a hand over his head, and turned to collect Eden, who had wandered off to look around the warehouse.

Max walked at Essie’s side as she made her way to Eden.

“Thank you for caring for Peter.”

“I will prepare some things for him today and send them over, then I would like to see him again. I will go to his lodgings.”

“Because you have no wish to see me again?”

Essie was the nonconfrontational Sinclair. She hated conflict, but she made herself stop walking and face him.

“That is for the best, as nothing good can come from us meeting again. Good day to you, Mr. Huntington.”

She made her way to Eden. Collecting her sister, she headed for the door, and knew Max shadowed her.

His hand reached the door of the carriage first, and opened it.

“Good day, your Grace.”

“Mr. Huntington,” Eden said, taking his hand. Essie was next, and she realized her gloves still sat in her reticule, so she would be forced to touch him again.

“Miss Sinclair.”

Essie looked down at the large hand, palm facing upward, awaiting hers.

“Mr. Huntington.” She rested hers on it, and the thrill that accompanied that contact simply made her angry, so she gave him a brisk nod and stepped forward. His fingers closed around hers and tightened briefly. He then helped her into the carriage.

Only when the carriage was moving did she exhale. Looking at her sister, she said, “Not one word.”

“I hope you are joking, because after what I just witnessed, I want a comprehensive explanation.”

“Well, you are not bloody getting one! I treated him at Oak’s Knoll, end of story.”

“No, it is not the end of the story. I have never seen you react that way with a man before. Not even Tolly, who you supposedly loved!”

Essie looked at her sister, and for the first time in forever, wished her somewhere else.

“There is nothing further to discuss. I believed him a different person than he actually is. Believed him penniless, and he did not correct that belief. He spent two days at Oak’s Knoll, and what you saw today was my anger at being deceived.”

“But why are you so angry he deceived you, if you care nothing for him?”

“Enough, Eden. I wish to speak about him no more.” Essie did not yell, but she felt like it.

“All right, we will drop it for now, but I liked him. Are you sure he deliberately deceived you?”

“What does it matter if he did or didn’t?”

“He’d make you a fine husband.”

Essie stared at her sister in stunned silence.

“Wealthy, handsome, and he is obviously, despite his penchant for fabrication, a good man. He wouldn’t be rescuing those ship boys if he did not. Mrs. Floyd told me about them.”

“Well, at least you did not listen to the conversation I had with Mr. Huntington.”

“I could not get the woman to stop talking loudly so I could do so. It was most vexing.”

Thank you, Mrs. Floyd, Essie thought.

“This subject is no longer up for discussion, Eden. That also means you will not speak to Dev or Cam on the matter.”

Her sister didn’t look happy, but nodded. Essie didn’t like her chances that she would keep silent for long, however.

Chapter Thirteen

Max watched the carriage take Essie away from him until it had left his sight. It was as if her palm had been an ember, and the contact would remain burned into his skin.

“What is this folly?” Max muttered, returning to his warehouse. “I don’t feel emotion, nor do I enjoy the contact of another.”

But Essex Sinclair was an angel... angry angel, he added, sighing. He’d never reacted to a woman as he did to her. The yearning to be near her was unsettling. He’d kissed her because he’d had to. Touched her, or gone mad.

“Perhaps I have an illness that is addling my brain,” Max muttered. What other reason could account for this irrational behavior?

Edward met him as he entered the warehouse. His limp seemed more pronounced today, which suggested he’d been walking about too much.

“The investigator, Mr. Spriggot, has arrived, along with the Bow Street Runner, Mr. Brown, Max. They are in your office.”

“I have heard good reports on both, and thought to have them investigate who wants me dead, Edward. Come and see what you think of them.”

“Very well. How do you know Miss Sinclair, Max?”

Max walked a few paces, his eyes going left and right to make sure everything was as it should be in the warehouse.

“How do you know that I know her?”

“She was angry with you. I watched from upstairs, and you were….”

“I was what?”

“Very happy to see her,” Edward said softly. “In fact, your reaction to her was something I have never seen before.”

“I am often happy to see people,” Max protested. But he knew what Edward meant. It was different with Essex Sinclair, and that was not a comforting thought. He’d always believed himself immune to the emotions other men experienced with women.

“Not this happy. Not smiling, and leaning toward a person happy.”

Max shot his friend a frustrated look. “Have you been reading nonsense again?”

“Max.”

Silver came toward him, using his cane to lead the way. The boy could make his way anywhere in London, and often said he had no need of eyes.

“What is it, Silver?”

“Miss Sinclair helped Peter.”

“She did.”

“Is she coming back?”

The boy looked straight ahead, but his head was tilted slightly. Like the other boys Max had working for him, Silver had been mistreated as a cabin boy, and Max and Edward had rescued him.

“She said she wanted to see Peter again, so it is likely she will. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if she may have something for my headaches.”

Max rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You said they were better.”

The smile was small, but held little humor. “I lied.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you worry, and there was nothing that could be done. But now, maybe there is.”

These boys had been mistreated, beaten and worse, and they never complained or asked for anything from him unless their need was great. Silver’s headaches must be bad indeed for him to broach the subject.

“I shall speak with her on your behalf, and ensure she comes back. Now, I want you to go up to the room where you take your meals, and rest there.”

“I don’t need to rest,” the boy scoffed.

Max watched him walk away, stick tapping.

“Braver than men twice his age,” Edward muttered.

Max didn’t speak, because anger tightened his throat, as it always did when he thought how his boys had suffered.

They took the stairs and were soon in his office, where he found Mr. Spriggot, a small, thin man, who to Max’s mind was easily forgettable, except for his alert eyes. Beside him sat Mr. Brown, the runner. Blunt-featured and bald, he was larger, but no prettier to look at. Appearances, however, Max had long ago learned, meant very little.

After greetings were exchanged, Mr. Spriggot spoke.

“Please tell us what has occurred, for you to believe your life is in danger, Mr. Huntington.”

Max did, relating everything he remembered.

“And you saw nothing or passed no other rider or carriage immediately before you were shot?”

“No. I was riding to inspect a property I’m thinking of purchasing, and the bullet knocked me sideways. I managed to stay on the horse, but as it bolted from fright, I could do nothing but hold on.”

“Hurts like the devil to have a bullet hole in you,” Mr. Brown said, and this told Max he had experienced the pain firsthand. Because it did hurt like the devil.

“I then managed to control it, and took cover in some trees. There I waited until I believed the way was clear. However, my thoughts were no longer in order, as I was losing blood fast, so I took the wrong road, and ended up in Crunston Cliff. I received help there.”

Mr. Spriggot smiled. It was merely forming his lips into a line, but Mr. Brown’s was wider.

“Been there myself, to the Duke of Raven’s castle. Lovely place, and nice people in Crunston Cliff. Oak’s Knoll is where we have clients, Mr. Spriggot. The Sinclairs live there.”

“You know the Sinclair family?” Max said calmly, very aware that Edward’s eyes were on him.

“I do. Wonderful people. That Miss Sinclair healed my gout.”

Essie again, Max thought. She was popping up in his life with more frequency than was entirely comfortable.

“Do you have reason to believe someone would like you dead, Mr. Huntington? An enemy, perhaps?” Mr. Spriggot regained control of the conversation.

Max snorted. “I have certainly annoyed a great many people, and yes, I have enemies, but to find one who would shoot me in such a cowardly manner is another matter.”

If you could make a list of those you believe are your enemies, then I would appreciate it, Mr. Huntington.”

“Captain Rutley.”

Max tried not to tense as Edward spoke.

“He is dead.”

“You have no proof of that, Max.”

Captain Rutley had been a cruel, evil man who Max and Edward had been cabin boys for. Max had sought revenge the only way he knew how, by killing him. At least, that was what he’d always believed.

“Captain Rutley?” Mr. Spriggot’s expression was calm as he scratched the name on his paper.

“I shot him, and he fell into the sea.” Max kept his words cold and emotionless. Inside, however, he was a seething, shaking mass, as he always was when the man’s name was mentioned. Not many could reduce him to the boy he had once been, but the mention of that man could.

“I shall still add him to the list of people I need to check, if that is all right with you, Mr. Huntington?”

Max nodded, and then swallowed to ease the tension in his throat.

“This matter is to be kept secret. I want no one aware of what you are doing, only that the culprit is unearthed. Employ as many people as you need to get me a result. Money is of no concern, Mr. Spriggot.”

Both men nodded, and then Edward escorted them from the building, leaving Max feeling raw after his encounter with Essie and speaking about the man who had nearly destroyed him.

Rubbing a hand down his side, he emptied his thoughts of Rutley. The man was dead; he’d seen to it personally. Max would not allow him to inflict any more pain on him, even if it was in his thoughts.

Rubbing his side, he eased the ache from the bullet that could have taken his life. Death had never worried Max overly much. If it came before his hair turned gray, again it would not concern him. He had worked hard in his life to rise to the power and wealth he now had, but he had formed few connections along the way that would weep or mourn his loss.

“I don’t even know what that means? How can you just decide not to feel things?” He remembered Essie’s words.

Easily, Max thought. Feeling things had only ever caused him pain.

“Work,” he muttered. Work would ease his thoughts and calm him, as it always did.

Max worked steadily though the day, only stopping when Edward appeared in his doorway.

“You have the ball this evening, so it is time you left, as it will soon be too dark to ride home.”

“I can ride in the dark.”

“Not when someone wants you dead.”

Max sighed. They had gone over this many times.

“I am not changing my life because of one stray bullet, Edward.”

“That could have killed you.”

“I don’t want to go to the ball.” He decided on a change of subject, as they had not agreed the previous five times they had discussed this matter. Max doubted that had changed.

“I understand that, Max, but it is good for you to do so. Lord Wynburg has given you a great honor by inviting you, as you very well know. It would be rude not to attend, and also bad for business.”

“Then you go,” Max said, getting to his feet. “You’ll be better at it than I. You enjoy all that foolish social chatter and false smiling.”

“Charming.”

“You know what I mean.” Max shrugged into his coat. “People like you.”

Edward was now leaning on the door, resting his hip, which told Max again that he had been overdoing things.

“They’d like you if you let them.”

Max snorted.

“Perhaps your Miss Sinclair will be there.”

The thought was far more appealing than it should be.

“She is not my anything.”

“Well, I did some investigating on Lord Wynburg as you asked, and his nephew is Lord Sinclair. He also has two other nephews and four nieces, one of whom is married to a duke. No doubt the same duchess who was in this very warehouse today.”

Christ.

“So it is likely that she will be at her uncle’s ball.”

“I still have no wish to attend,” Max lied. He grabbed his hat and slapped it on his head. “Now, good evening, Edward. Please leave directly, as I can see your leg is causing you discomfort and I have no wish for you to take yet another day off tomorrow.”

“I’ve never taken a bloody day off!”

Max smiled as he made his way down the stairs. Annoying Edward always made him feel better.

Would Essie be there? Her uncle was the rare breed of nobleman who embraced change and those that came with it. He accepted merchants and nobility into his house, as was evidenced by Max’s invitation to his ball.

Would she be there?

The journey to the hotel was not a great one, and after stabling his mount he walked to the building and climbed the impressive steps to where awaited an equally impressive entranceway.

“Good evening, Mr. Huntington.”

“Good evening.” Max passed the reception and made for the stairs. Reaching his rooms, he found his valet had laid out his evening clothes.

“Good evening, Max, you are late.”

“Good evening, Phillip, and I had work to do.”

“Your carriage will be arriving in twenty minutes.”

“I do not need a great deal of time to ready myself, as you very well know.”

Phillip, like Edward, had been with Max for many years. He had collected him, also like Edward, on his travels, and he had stayed with Max since. Valet was his official position, but he was so much more. Unlike Max, he’d been raised in an affluent household, and when he reached the age of ten his life had changed for the worse.

“Your day was fruitful?” Max asked his friend when he was soaking, however briefly, in his tub.

“Sylvie told me she thought you were the most handsome of the guests staying here at the moment.”

“Sylvie being?”

“One of the maids. Apparently, they run a poll on the matter weekly.”

“What’s the prize?”

“As to that I’m unsure, but I did offer myself, and she said she would give it some consideration.”

Phillip was short and round, with straight gray hair. His smile could make a woman sigh from a hundred feet, and he could talk his way out of any situation and under any woman’s skirts.

“Your generosity knows no bounds, Phillip.”

His valet smiled, then handed Max a drying cloth as he stepped from the tub.

“Sylvie also said that you should be married. A man like you should never be alone.”

Max thought about Essie. She would not be a comfortable wife; not that he ever planned to marry, or that she would have him if he did. She was a nobleman’s daughter, and deserved to marry a man of her standing. The thought of her with another man made him want to strike at something, but as he had no claim to her, her marrying another was inevitable, even if she believed otherwise.

You will marry, Essex Sinclair; no man could resist you.

“You marry first, and test the waters, and I shall see how it works, and follow,” Max drawled, making his friend snort.

He dressed, and Phillip fussed until he was happy with how Max looked.

“Sylvie will swoon if she sees you.”

“Something to aspire to, I am sure.”

Max shrugged into his overcoat, nodded to his valet, and then left the hotel. He missed his own house. There, he could hide away in his study and read; here he did not have that luxury.

When the carriage stopped, he stepped down and told his driver to come back in a few hours. He would not be staying late. Max never really felt comfortable around noblemen, as he was sure they did not around him.

The house was as it should be for the man who lived within it. Elegant, large, and grand, and he wondered if she was inside already. He walked through the open door and was greeted by the butler, and he felt his tension rise. She was here, he could feel it. Which should be enough to have Max turn and leave.

“My name is Mr. Huntington,” he said instead.

“Please come this way, Mr. Huntington.”

He removed his hat and followed the butler up a grand staircase. Max rarely wore gloves; just another thing to set him apart from noblemen. He found them restrictive and often too small for his large hands. Tonight was no different, which would surely turn up the noses of the nobility present.

He let his eyes wander as he followed the butler. The paintings and trappings of years of wealth and title were everywhere. He thought it must be nice to have such an illustrious line of ancestors at your back, who had handed you your power and wealth. Unlike Max, who had worked his fingers to the bone to receive his.

He heard the hum of voices as he approached a door.

“Mr. Huntington,” the butler called, and he entered the room filled with guests. There were hundreds of them, all talking and laughing. Primped and pampered, the woman draped in jewels and fine dresses, the men in evening clothes. The people closest turned to look at him, and then a man disengaged himself to walk forward. Max let his eyes circle the group Lord Wynburg had left, and found her.

Chapter Fourteen

Essie stood with her family as the other guests arrived at their aunt and uncle’s ball.

“You know, of course, that aunt has great hopes for both you and me this season. She told me we were going to be a sensation, and I… well, I already create a stir wherever I go, but she believes my freedom is coming to an end, and some woman will drop me to my knees.”

“That sounds painful,” Essie said.

“And I have no wish to hurt her, but you know my feelings on the matter, sister.”

Like Dev and James, Cam looked his usual immaculate, handsome self. Tall men, they carried clothes well and had an assurance about them that made woman look.

“I told her that I have no wish to wed for at least five years, possibly more.”

“And I never wish to wed,” Essie said.

“Never is a long time,” Eden said. Dressed in ivory silk, she looked stunning. Her hair was pinned into a mass of curls and decorated with diamonds.

“As this conversation has absolutely nothing to do with you, you can stay out of it.”

Eden merely smiled at Cam’s words, and moved closer to Essie.

“I think you have just not met the right man… or maybe you have,” Eden whispered in Essie’s ear.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You look wonderful, Lilly,” Essie said, hoping to deter her sister-in-law. “Like Eden, you are positively glowing.”

Lilly was beautiful in emerald velvet with a matching band in her hair. She had changed a great deal since marrying Dev. Both of them had, actually, Essie thought, looking at her eldest brother, who was staring at his wife with that special look couples in love often shared. Or at least the three couples she knew did. Her aunt and uncle, and the marriages of her siblings.

“Dear Lord, what is that odor?” Cam looked round him, sniffing loudly. “Christ, it’s that bloody Kippley again. He’s bathed in a bottle of scent.”

“You should see the color of Lady Griffin’s dress,” Dev drawled, joining the conversation. “It is something my wife would once have been very proud to own.”

They all laughed, as Lilly had once worn hideous clothes to deter suitors. Of course that had not worked for Dev, as he had seen through them eventually.

“I overheard the Earl of Stathern telling his son to behave, before entering the ballroom. It seems, he overindulged at the Griffin musicale, and was not found until the following morning—under a table and covered in the previous night’s overindulgence.”

Having heightened senses meant her siblings saw, heard, and smelled a great deal, and they only shared those things with each other. Never did they let anyone else hear their conversations—except James, who was the only one among them who did not have heightened senses.

“Well now, this is interesting.” Eden’s words made Essie follow her sister’s gaze. Dear God, suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Max was here, and he looked ridiculously handsome in his evening clothes. So much larger than those around him, he should look out of place; instead he appeared at ease in the ballroom crowded with people.

“What is interesting?” Cam demanded.

“That Mr. Huntington is here.”

There were rare times in Essie’s life when she wished to be an only child. For instance, when there was only one portion of apple-and-plum pudding left, and she was not quick enough to secure a second helping… and now.

Max was here, and today he’d kissed her again.

“Is he? Where? Uncle has told me about him. Apparently he has a remarkable head for making money, and is involved in many innovative enterprises,” Cam added.

“Who is innovative?” Devon said.

“Mr. Huntington.” Eden smiled at Essie. “He is here.”

“I’d like to meet him.” James joined the conversation. “Supposedly he has several steam-powered mills up and running now. Your uncle said he’s a great man to invest with.”

Max was talking with her aunt and uncle, a polite smile on his face as he listened. He wore a black jacket and white evening trousers. His waistcoat was black with ruby stripes, and like today, the clothes suited his tall, muscular body. His hair was still a little too long, and slightly untamed. Not that she cared. He could wear a flour sack and it would not matter, she reminded herself. Look away, for pity’s sake!

“Essie knows Mr. Huntington.”

Glaring at Eden, Essie prepared for the questions that would follow.

“How do you know him?” Dev was first.

Essie had thought about how to answer this after seeing Max today, and dealing with the possibility of maybe doing so again in the future when she was with her family. She decided on honesty… for the most part.

“Cam has met him also,” she said.

Cam dragged his eyes from the nearest pretty woman. “No, I haven’t.”

“He was shot, and you helped me carry him in to Oak’s Knoll,” Essie said, proud of how calm she sounded.

“What! I don’t remember you telling me about anyone being shot at Oak’s Knoll!” Dev thundered. Eyebrows now lowered, as he glared at his siblings.

“That was Mr. Huntington?” Cam looked around him once more, and Essie knew he was searching for Max. “Good Lord.” His eyes then came back to Essie, and she knew that he also realized that Mr. Huntington was the Max who had made her cry. She gave him a look that she hoped he interpreted to mean, “say nothing more or I shall make you pay for it later.”

“He was not shot at Oak’s Knoll, Dev, but found his way there, and I tended him.”

“There is more to this than simply a chance meeting and you tending him, Essex, and I want the entire story… now.”

“I have nothing further to add. Only that he was wounded, and then he left. End of story.”

“There by the door,” Cam said. “I’d recognize that big brute anywhere. He’s as heavy to carry as he looks. What I didn’t realize was that we knew his last name,” he added, shooting Essie a look that suggested he wanted to know why she had left that out.

The eyes of her family members then turned as one toward the door, where her aunt and uncle were still conversing with Max.

“We encountered him today, in one of his warehouses.” Eden entered the conversation once more, looking extremely happy that she knew something her brothers did not. “Essie was not aware he would be there, and he of course was surprised and pleased to see the woman who saved his life.”

As Essie had told her sister very little about how she knew Max, Eden was having a wonderful time ad-libbing, and there was nothing she could do to stop her, as the truth would never be aired.

“Indeed, he was quite effusive in his praise for our sister— Ouch!”

“Oh sorry, dear, did I stand on your foot?” Essie’s smile was more a snarl. Eden just looked smug.

“You went to a warehouse?” Dev and James said in unison.

“It was a clean warehouse, and we were in no danger, my love.” Eden patted her husband’s arm. “It had supplies that Essie needed, and as it turned out, it was owned by Mr. Huntington. Essie then looked after one of the children working there. She was wonderful.”

“Yes, thank you, Eden,” Essie said, with a calm she was far from feeling.

“She saved this young boy’s life, and Mr. Huntington was eternally grateful.”

“It matters not if it was clean,” James said. “What matters is that you went there with only Essie. Furthermore, I know nothing of this Huntington.”

“And Bids.”

“Pardon?” James snapped.

“Bids drove us.” Eden smiled at her husband.

“And my driver makes three,” Dev muttered. “Well, as you are both standing here, obviously nothing heinous befell you.”

“I will have more to say about this later,” James whispered to his wife, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You have no idea how good it was to hand her over to you. I now only have three sisters to worry over,” Dev added.

“And your brothers are of course paragons,” Essie said, smiling sweetly through her teeth.

“We need to thank Huntington, actually,” Cam said to Dev, but Essie heard and tensed, as she knew what was coming.

“Why?”

“Brunt called, and yelled at Essie after she tended his wife. The Hemples told me he raised a hand to strike her for interfering, and Huntington intervened. Brunt also called her a witch.”

“He did what!” Dev thundered. Eden winced and stuck her fingers in her ears, forcing her earplugs deeper. Several of the nearby guests turned to see who had made the noise.

“I am unhurt, and thank you, Cam. I thought we were not discussing that incident.”

Cam shrugged, then leaned to whisper in her ear. “Don’t think I don’t remember how upset you were when Huntington left either, sister. We shall discuss this later.”

“I was upset about Brunt!”

“No, you were not, so don’t try and fudge me.”

“You knew about this business with Brunt and didn’t tell me!” Dev glared at his brother.

“I knew too.”

Essie wondered if anyone would notice her hands slipping up around her sister’s neck and squeezing.

Dev spun to impale her with his fierce green gaze. Had she not been the recipient hundreds of times before, Essie would admit it was intimidating.

“You told them and not me.”

“Cam was there when it happened, and I told Eden today after meeting Mr. Huntington again, Dev. Don’t make a fuss.”

“Sssh, all of you, Aunt and Uncle are approaching with Mr. Huntington,” Eden said, her eyes snapping with excitement, and suddenly Essie wished she were anywhere else but standing here, about to see Max again.

“Allow me to introduce you to my family, Mr. Huntington.”

Max couldn’t draw his eyes from Essie. Beautiful seemed too simple a word for how she looked. Her dress was pale apricot satin with a soft floating overskirt in a matching color. A twist of braided satin ran down the center and banded cap sleeves. Her hair was swept high and styled in a mass of curls, and as she turned to look at her brother, he saw a stem of flowers in gold and emerald set in the back. Around her neck sat a thin gold chain that held a heart-shaped locket.

Digging his toes into his shoes, Max resisted the urge to lean forward and inhale her scent. He wanted to place his lips in that spot at the base of her neck.

Stop it, Max!

This had to stop. He could not have this woman in his life even if he wanted her. Her family would never allow that, and if they knew what had already happened between them, he would likely end up hanging from a noose. Or beaten and thrown in the Thames, he thought, looking at her two large brothers. The eldest looked not exactly inhospitable, but it was a near thing.

“My niece and her husband, the Duke and Duchess of Raven,” Lord Wynburg said, and pride rang loud and clear in his voice.

“Your Grace, your Grace,” Max said hoping he was addressing them correctly. His tutor had spent many months teaching him how to behave when he was around nobility, and he remembered most of it… he hoped.

The duke was a big man, almost Max’s size, and the way he lowered his head was regal enough for the title he carried.

“How wonderful to see you again, Mr. Huntington, and so soon.”

Essie’s sister, however, may look regal, but by the wicked sparkle in her eyes, he thought that perhaps she was anything but, and had cost her brother many sleepless nights. The duchess was enjoying this encounter between him and Essie. Max wondered what, if anything, Essex had said to her sister about their acquaintance.

“And you, your Grace.”

“My nephews, Lord Sinclair and Mr. Cambridge Sinclair, and niece Miss Sinclair,” Lord Wynburg continued.

“My lord, Mr. Sinclair, and Miss Sinclair.” He looked briefly at Essie, but she did not meet his eyes.

“Mr. Huntington, I hope your wound is healed.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Sinclair, and thank you for coming to my aid.” This man had carried his unconscious, bleeding body into Oak’s Knoll. The thought that he may have seen his back was an unsettling one. The green eyes gave nothing away, however.

“And by no means the last of our family members, but the last one here this evening, is Lady Sinclair, my nephew’s wife,” Lord Wynburg finished.

She was the only fair-haired one among them, and her smile the most welcoming.

“My lady.” Max bowed again.

“I hear my sisters visited you today, Mr. Huntington?”

“Indeed they did, Lord Sinclair.”

“I also understand that my siblings tended you after you arrived at Oak’s Knoll with a bullet in you?”

“Right again, my lord. It’s my hope the sheets to your bed are changed before you sleep in them again.” Max wasn’t entirely sure why he said the words, but they came out just the same.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Sinclair’s eyes were the most startling green he had ever seen, piercing in their intensity.

“Well, I was hardly carrying him up the stairs to mine,” Cambridge Sinclair drawled. “Good Lord, look at the size of him. My back would have ached for a month.”

Lady Sinclair muffled her giggle behind a glove. Her husband shot her a dark look.

“Your bed was the only one he could fit in, Dev.”

Essie said the words, and Max knew that she was the peacemaker in this family. The soft, calming influence. Strangely, she did not have that effect on Max. He felt anything but calm when she was near.

“May I ask who shot you, Mr. Huntington?”

Max swung his eyes to the duke. He spoke in the smooth, cultured tone of a man who had been raised with the assurance his every need would be met… and met well.

“I don’t know who shot me, your Grace. It happened as I was riding to view a property I was interested in purchasing. My horse bolted, and I was unaware of much after that, only that I had the good fortune to end up at Oak’s Knoll.”

“If I may have this dance, Miss Sinclair?”

A man in naval uniform had joined the group, and it was he who asked Essie to dance. Max watched her brothers look the man over, the eldest staring intently at him. Cambridge raised his nose and sniffed the air, looking like an animal catching a scent.

“Of course, Captain Hilliard, I would love to dance.”

Max looked away as Essie placed her hand on the man’s arm, and called himself every kind of fool for feeling a bolt of jealousy travel through him.

“I have heard of your houses, Mr. Huntington.”

Lady Sinclair had moved to his side, and Max dragged his eyes from the sight of Essie being escorted onto the dance floor by Captain Hilliard.

“You are doing wonderful work with those boys.”

She had a lovely smile, and eyes the color of the heather that he had seen growing wild on the hills and valleys of Scotland.

“I’m not sure how you came to hear about my houses, Lady Sinclair.”

Her smile only increased her beauty, but it had no effect on Max, unlike Essie’s smiles. Those made his toes curl inside his boots.

“I look after children who live on the streets, Mr. Huntington. It has been a passion of mine for many years.”

“Yes, Miss Sinclair told me about your house today.”

“When she and my wife visited your warehouse?” The duke joined the conversation.

“They were in no danger, your Grace. I would not have let harm befall them.”

The air expelled loudly from the duke’s lips, in a very unnoble way. “I do not blame you, Mr. Huntington. The women in this family are a force of nature. I have learned that you can’t barricade them in, you need to simply keep a close eye on them.”

“Well done, darling, you are learning,” his duchess called from several feet away, and Max wasn’t entirely sure how she heard her husband’s words so clearly.

Lady Sinclair laughed. “I am impressed by your capacity to understand the female mind, cousin. Perhaps you could speak to my husband now, so he can learn also.”

“After years of keeping my sisters safe, I am not about to change now, my love,” Lord Sinclair said, holding out his hand to his wife. “Now come and dance with me.”

“Seeing as you asked so nicely.”

Max shook his head. He had never encountered nobility quite like this group. They weren’t rigidly polite to each other like many he knew. In fact, they seemed comfortable in speaking exactly as they wished, even with Max in hearing distance.

“I’m not entirely sure why my sister was upset when you suddenly disappeared from Oak’s Knoll, Huntington, but she assures me it is her business and not mine.”

Max found Cambridge Sinclair at his side. The man wore a pleasant expression, but his green eyes were deadly serious.

“But as I wish to know about this steam-powered mill,” he said conversationally, “I will not pursue the matter at this time. However, if I find you have hurt her, then I will come calling.”

“I don’t like threats, Mr. Sinclair.” Even if they are warranted, Max added silently.

“Excellent.” The man slapped him on the back. “We understand each other, then. Now tell me more, Huntington.”

He was serious, Max realized. Shaking his head, he dismissed his first thought, which was to leave, as the lure to talk about one of the few things in his life he was passionate about overrode all else. He was soon lost in the world he loved. Technology, and what it offered those bold enough to embrace it.

“Advancements in tools and machinery are improving steam power rapidly, Mr. Sinclair.”

The duke and Lord Sinclair soon joined their conversation, and Max answered the questions they fired at him. These noblemen were surprisingly intelligent and had a vast knowledge of the industry. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but when the Duchess of Raven coughed loudly, the men turned to find her frowning at her husband’s back.

“Forty minutes is quite long enough for this conversation, don’t you think, gentlemen? While this has been extremely entertaining for you men, I assure you Lilly and I are near bored to tears.”

“Excuse us, Mr. Huntington,” the duke said. “We have neglected our wives for too long.”

“And there are several women in dire need of my attention also,” Cambridge Sinclair said, walking away.

Max found himself alone. He should leave; there was nothing else for him here. He had made an appearance and now it was acceptable for him to go. His gaze found Essie a few feet away. She was standing with her aunt, chatting. One dance, he told himself. Just one.

“May I have this dance, Miss Sinclair?”

No!

“I... ah, well, as to that—”

“She would love to, Mr. Huntington.”

Essie couldn’t glare at her aunt, as she had no idea why she had no wish to dance with Max.

“Miss Sinclair?”

He held out his arm, and Essie placed her fingers on it. Of course it would be a waltz; why had she believed otherwise. Bracing herself, she let him turn her into his arms.

I did not just shiver, it’s merely cold in here.

“You have an interesting family, Essex.”

“Miss Sinclair,” she said. “And yes, they are very important to me.”

“You are lucky to have them in your life, then.”

She wanted to ask him about his life, but no good could come of her engaging him in conversation. She would get through the dance and then leave his side.

“Peter is doing a great deal better. Thank you for your care of him today.”

“I am glad.”

“Silver asked me to talk with you about his headaches.”

She looked up and found him smiling down at her.

“I knew it would take speaking about the boys to have you look up at me.”

“Don’t toy with me, Mr. Huntington. What happened between us should not have, but as it did, we must now move on and I wish to never think of it again.”

“Is that possible?” He spoke softly.

“Yes, very much so.”

“Then you have more control than I.”

Essie looked away from him, to watch the other couples dance by. Dev and Lilly moved to her side, and she saw her brother’s questioning look. She smiled in reply, which seemed to appease him.

“Your family are very protective of you.”

“It is our way.”

“It must be both stifling and comforting.”

It was, but she would not have it any other way.

“I love my family, Mr. Huntington.”

“I did not say otherwise.”

They danced in silence, and Essie focused on his necktie. She was no simpering, silly maiden to swoon over a man. Control, she realized. Control was what she needed, and for most of her life she had managed to achieve just that, so surely she could do so now around this one man.

“How are you different, Essie?”

She had told him the first night they met, that the Sinclair’s were different.

“I’m a healer, Mr. Huntington, my family are not. That is how I am different.”

His look told her he was not convinced. “And how is your family different?”

“Even on such short acquaintance, I’m sure you have seen that we are not a regular family,” Essie said calmly.

“Yes, they are certainly different, but I had a feeling there was more to it than that, when I heard you speak on the matter.”

“You were delirious with fever, Mr. Huntington. I’m not sure you could remember what I said that night.”

“I remember.”

And Essie had a feeling he really did, and the thought was not a pleasant one. Her family had secrets, and she had no wish for this man be aware of them.

“Are we to forget all that lay between us also, Essie?”

“It was you who walked away, Mr. Huntington, not I. And that, I now believe, was for the best. I would ask that you respect my wishes and speak of this matter no more.”

“I wish I could. But as yet, I have been unable to put you out of my head.” His words were deep and steady.

She looked at him then, and saw the flare of passion. He felt this dangerous need they had for each other, too. So she would have to keep herself safe by avoiding him. It was the only way.

“You lied to me and walked away. I want nothing further to do with you.” She made herself look at him. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Huntington.” Essie dropped into a curtsy as the music finished, and fled.

Essie knew her aunt and uncle’s house well, as she had lived there when she first came to London. Leaving the ballroom without her siblings being aware, she made her way to the stairs, and climbed.

Her body had betrayed her in Max’s arms. He had awakened something inside her that night in Oak’s Knoll, and now when he was near she responded to him. Surely if she just kept her distance, all would be well. She wanted no man to have control over her ever again. Distance, Essie thought. She must keep her distance from him. And if she was forced into his company, then she would ensure she always had someone with her.

She had watched him talking with her brothers and James, confident and comfortable in whatever discussion was taking place. He had also been comfortable with those boys at his warehouse today, leaving her in no doubt he was helping, rather than harming them. Again, she wondered at his story. How had he ended up living the life he now did? He had suffered, his back told her that, but risen above that suffering to be a powerful, wealthy man.

She found the small terrace off the end of the hall, opened the doors, and walked out. The cool air was a relief after the ballroom, with its scents and body odors.

“I must stay away from him,” Essie whispered, gripping the railing. He made her weak, he made her feel, and she could not allow that. Could not allow him to lie and manipulate her again. “Put him from your thoughts,” she whispered.

“Essie.”

She spun to find Max walking through the doors behind her.

“Why are you here?”

“I followed you.”

Essie couldn’t read his expression as he drew closer.

“Why?”

“Ask me instead to recite a few Latin proverbs. I assure you that would be easier.”

He walked closer, and she was pressed to the stone balustrade, with no escape.

“You look like an angel tonight.”

“No.” Essie shook her head. Holding a hand out before her, she kept him at bay. “Go away, Max. I told you I wanted nothing to do with you.”

“Why can’t you accept a compliment?”

“Why can’t you leave me alone?”

He trailed a finger down one cheek, and Essie could do nothing to stop the betraying shiver of awareness.

“You should not be here,” Essie whispered. “What happened between us is over... done with. This, what was, can no longer be, which I know is what you wanted when you left Oak’s Knoll in the middle of the night.”

“That’s not why I left.”

“It matters not. You lied to me, and I will not forgive you.”

“As you shouldn’t, because I am a man who does not deserve to touch one such as you.” He cupped her cheek and leaned closer. “But you tempt me to do what I shouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to tempt you.”

Essie felt her body lean toward him, telling him her words were a lie. Lean into that wonderful strength. She’d never before felt this frenzied need to be close to a man.

He kissed her again, deep and long, and she lost the ability to do anything but feel. He held her pressed close to his body, and she wanted to open his jacket and slide her hands inside.

“I’ve watched you dance tonight, and battled the need to plant my fist in the face of each of your partners.”

His hands moved to the front of her body, and up. She gasped as he cupped her breasts.

“I am no good for you, Essex Sinclair. I’m savage, and have a darkness in me that would destroy you.” His words were deep and dredged from deep inside him. “You are right to keep your distance, but God help me, I cannot stay away from you.”

“What darkness?” Essie wrapped her arms around his neck and fisted her fingers in his hair. Tugging his head down, she kissed him.

His hand touched the skin above her bodice, brushing softly from side to side, until her body was a furnace of need. He then tugged the material down and took her breast into his hands, and Essie moaned.

“God, I’m a fool!” He stepped away from her. “I have to leave here now.”

“Then go, and d-do not toy with me again!” Essie cried, sounding like the heroine in a dreadful novel. “I am a nobleman’s daughter, damn you! I-I will not be treated this way!”

And as quickly as he’d arrived, Max left her. Head reeling, body aching, Essie tried to grapple with what had just happened.

She remembered his words then. “I’m savage, and have a darkness in me that would destroy you.”

“Dear Lord, what am I to do?”

Entering the ballroom when she was back in control, she found her family.

“Hello, where have you been?”

“Chatting,” Essie said to Cam.

“I know that it was Huntington who upset you, Essie, but what I don’t know is why? I spoke to him at length earlier. The man is intelligent, articulate, and I did not gage him to have a mean spirit. So why were you so upset when he left Oak’s Knoll?”

“I have no idea now.” She dismissed her brother’s words with an idle flick of her wrist.

“Yes, you do, and if I had to hazard a guess, I would say that both you and Huntington are very aware of each other, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that fact.”

“Cam!” She looked around them to see if her siblings had heard. Eden was smiling, which said she had, but then that was nothing new.

“He’s a smoky character, and harbors secrets, I’ve no doubt, but I can’t help liking the fellow.”

“Who?” Dev appeared at her side.

“Huntington. I can’t help liking him.”

“And Essie should care about this, why?”

“Because she and he have been trying the entire evening to not look at each other, and failing miserably,” Eden said.

“Good Lord, is there any possibility that a conversation can be held in this family without each and every one of you involving yourselves?” Essie said, instead of denying what Eden had said. She couldn’t, because for her part, her sister’s words had the accuracy of an arrow.

“Are you interested in Huntington, Essex?”

“No!” Essie managed to sound outraged enough to deny her brother’s claim.

“It was a simple question,” Dev said calmly. “There is no need to deny it so vehemently.”

“Why are you yelling, Essie?” James said.

Eden patted his cheek. “You really must try to keep up, darling.”

Essie was thankfully asked to dance, so she had to endure no more questions. She wished she could shut off her thoughts as easily.

Chapter Fifteen

Dev and Cam let Essie accompany them to the docks to see Dev’s new ship, but only because she had told them she wished to visit the markets. If they did not go with her, then she would go alone, so they relented.

“It’s a beauty, brother. You must be proud.”

The three siblings were standing on the deck of The Lilliana.

“I am, Cam. When I think how far we have all come, it is hard to believe.”

Essie listened to her siblings while she looked around her. The air carried the noise and bustle of what was taking place around them. Vendors, hawkers, and sailors, the sounds were a cacophony of pitches—which was why Eden never came here.

It had been five days since her aunt and uncle’s ball, and thankfully she had not run into Max again. Nor did she ever plan to. She had spent that time with some of Lilly’s children, healing sniffles and coughs and cuts and bruises. She had treated a few of the staff in her family’s houses. And that, she realized, was what she loved; she needed nothing else in her life.

She heard a shout to her right, and found four men on the deck of a ship. The one with his back to her could only be one man. Max. She knew no one else that big, and if his size had not alerted her, then the tingle of awareness she felt would have.

“Did you say something, Essie?”

She shook her head as her brothers came to her side, but she kept her eyes on the ship. Something wasn’t right. Acid had filled her mouth, and she found it hard to swallow.

“Dev, is that Mr. Huntington having an argument with those men?”

Her brother focused, and she knew even from this distance he could make out every man’s expression.

“Yes. He is not yelling, but the other man is. Mr. Huntington is alone, but the other man has three men at his back,” Dev added, watching intently.

“Oh dear, the man just pushed him, didn’t he, Dev?”

“Do we like this man Huntington, Cam?”

Cam, who was also watching the scene, nodded. “I believe we do, Dev. Not entirely sure I know why I like him, but strangely I do. Although considering what he has on his back, perhaps it’s respect for his survival.”

Essie remembered the feel of those scars lacing Max’s back, each welt deep and formed many years ago. They had been inflicted in rage, she had no doubt.

“What does he have on his back?”

“Welts,” Cam hissed. “Hundreds of them, and Essie believes he received them as a child.”

The men were moving in on Max, Essie could feel her fear escalate. “I taste danger.”

“I can smell it in the air,” Cam said softly.

“Damn,” Dev whispered. “You,” he pointed at Essie, “don’t move!”

She watched as Dev and Cam ran down the gangway and along the dock. Lifting her skirts, Essie pulled out her pistol and followed.

“Where is he, Hoyt? I know he’s here, because I had word last night. I also know you beat him almost senseless when he was too ill to work.”

“I own the boy, Huntington, so get off my ship!”

Big, with a bloated belly, Captain Hoyt was a man who wielded authority with a fist. Word had come from another cabin boy that a lad named Tiny was on board and in a bad way. Max had come to collect him as soon as he could.

“I’ll pay you for him.”

Greed was a currency men like Hoyt understood.

“Take your do-gooding ass off my ship, Huntington, I have no need of your interference. The boys understand the order of things on board, and Tiny is no different.”

Max looked to the sailors at Captain Hoyt’s back. They would do as their master directed because they wanted to keep their positions. But he was sure a few of them had received the same treatment as Tiny at some stage.

“I’m not leaving without him.”

Max braced his legs and tensed, readying himself for what was to come. His pistol was tucked in his boot, and if he’d been thinking clearly, he’d have it in his hand by now. But bending to get it would signal his intent. They would likely beat him senseless, as he was outnumbered, but he’d inflict a few bruises himself first. He’d been foolish to come without his men. The problem was, he’d slept badly, thinking about Essie, dreaming of her lying beside him, on top of him, and every other scenario that had him hard, and as a consequence, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. Something else he rarely did. That woman was messing with the order of things. Max didn’t get distracted; his life was on a set course, and he wanted no deviation.

“Then we’ll be throwing your body off when we’re done with it.”

Captain Hoyt bared his teeth. Max wasn’t worried; he’d taken beatings before. What concerned him most was that below the decks was a boy who lay suffering somewhere, and no one but he cared if Tiny lived or died.

“I’ll be leaving with the boy, Hoyt.” Max deliberately left out the word captain to infuriate the man.

“Captain Hoyt!”

Max braced himself as the burly seamen began to advance.

“Need a hand, Huntington?”

He turned, and saw the Sinclair brothers had arrived on deck.

“This is no place for the likes of soft noblemen,” Max said as he once again looked at the sailors. He did not want Essie’s brothers injured because of him. She had enough to hate him for already, without adding to the tally.

“I’m not entirely sure I like what you are inferring, Huntington.”

Max didn’t turn at Lord Sinclair’s words. The fight was about to begin, and he was more than ready.

“No indeed. Nothing soft about either of us, brother.”

Max only had time to grunt at Cambridge Sinclair’s words, as the first sailor was swinging a fist at him.

The fight was dirty, and he could spare no time to look at the brothers, but when he did catch a glimpse from the corner of his eyes, they were acquitting themselves well, using their feet and fists. They fought dirty like him, much to his surprise.

“You’ll all stop now!”

Max ducked a fist, then turned to see Essie standing on a crate.

“Get off this boat, woman!”

Ignoring him, she aimed the pistol in her hand at the captain, who had not entered the fray, but stood to one side watching.

“Stop them now or I shoot, and I assure you I am accurate.”

“Stop!”

Max hauled in a breath as the man he was fighting backed away. He then stalked to where Essie stood.

“What the bloody hell did you think you were doing, boarding his ship! Anything could have happened to you, Essex. These men do not have the same code of honor your precious, soft-bellied nobles do!”

He reached up and grabbed her around the waist, then lowered her to the ground. Taking the pistol from her hands, he shoved it into his pocket.

“Give that back,” she demanded.

“I had no idea you were still carrying that about.” Lord Sinclair moved to Max’s side to scowl down at his sister.

“Of course I carry it. When I visit sick people in less desirable areas, I take it with me.”

Max pulled out his pistol, happy that her brother was taking Essie to task for her reckless behavior.

“What undesirable areas are you frequenting alone?”

Max heard Essie curse, and thought any of these sailors would be happy with that word in their vocabulary. Shaking his head, he moved to where Captain Hoyt still stood and pointed the gun at his head.

“You and your men stand over there.” He pointed to the bow.

“Mr. Sinclair, do you have a gun?”

“I do, and must object to being called soft-bellied, Huntington, when we just saved you from a severe beating.”

Max looked at the man’s torn shirt and jacket. He bore several marks from the mill they had just participated in. His smile suggested he had enjoyed it.

“Apologies, I stand corrected, and will add that not all noblemen are soft-bellied as I had once believed. Forgive me also for speaking to your sister thus.”

“Think nothing of it.” The eldest Sinclair joined his brother. “She deserved it, but the problem is, Huntington, I’ve delivered her such lectures multiple times with very little success, so you really were just wasting your breath.”

Max didn’t have time to discuss the matter further, nor the cavalier way Essie’s brothers were dismissing her behavior. He had a boy to rescue.

“I would be grateful if you would hold off the men while I retrieve someone, then we shall leave.”

“Of course.” Lord Sinclair pulled a pistol from his waistband.

“Do all Sinclairs wear arms?” Max had to ask.

“I had not realized my sister felt a need to until today.” Lord Sinclair threw a scowl over his shoulder. “But I will address that matter at a more convenient time.”

Max heard Essie mumble something that sounded like, “Oh no, you will not.”

“Tell me where the boy is, Hoyt.” Max moved to stand before the captain, and pressed his pistol into his soft belly. “Now,” he said softly.

“He is below,” Devonshire Sinclair said.

Looking into Lord Sinclair’s eyes, Max saw his pupils had dilated.

“How do you know that?”

“Go now, the boy is in a bad way,” Sinclair urged Max.

“His injuries were self-inflicted,” Captain Hoyt said.

“I doubt that.” Max punched him in the stomach. “That one is for Tiny.” He started for the door that would take him below.

“I’ll come.”

“No.” Max did not look at Essie.

“If the boy is hurt, then he may need tending before you bring him up.”

“You are not coming, and there will be nothing further said on the matter,” Max growled with more force than he should to a lady, even if she had shown no fear and pointed a pistol at a group of sailors. Max refused to be proud of her behavior.

He knew ships, as he’d grown up on them, knew the layout, as he’d walked every inch of several, and then his own. The memories washed through him as he opened the door and started to descend the narrow steps. Some good, others bad, and some too dark to allow himself to remember.

“It is so narrow.”

Closing his eyes briefly, Max braced a hand on the wall as he reached the bottom. He turned to see Essie behind him.

“I told you to stay on the deck.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I’ve never been very good at following orders.”

He wanted to snarl and look mean, just to show her how angry he was, but instead he found himself smiling. He moved to the last step as she reached a few above. Her bonnet was lavender velvet, as was her spencer today, and she looked so bloody sweet he couldn’t stop himself leaning in and inhaling her scent.

“You need to go back up those stairs, Essex.”

“I am not here for you, but that boy.” She glared down at him.

“Don’t be foolish. This is no place for you. Now leave at once.” Max ran his eyes over her delicate features, the line of her nose, and soft upper lip.

“We are wasting time.”

“So be it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I think we’ve established I am no lady, Mr. Huntington.”

He had turned away, but her words had him swinging back again. “You think what happened between us makes you less of a lady?”

She dropped her eyes. “It matters not. Please lead the way.”

There were so many words he should have said right then. Like, I am in the wrong and a coward, and God you’re beautiful, and I want to lay you down and lose myself in your lush body, but all he managed was. “You will always be a lady, Essex Sinclair.”

Max then took her hand in his, because he needed to keep her tethered to his side in case she did another foolish thing, but really it was to feel her small fingers in his larger ones.

“This won’t be pleasant.”

“I know, but then I’ve seen a great deal of unpleasant in my life.”

“What have you seen?”

She waved his words away in favor of her own.

“Were you a cabin boy, Mr. Huntington?”

“Yes.” The word was pulled from him. The memories, however, he blocked.

“Are the memories painful?”

They were descending again, Max in front, in case she fell. Thankfully she could not see his face.

“No.”

Her hand rested on his shoulder, and in that simple gesture he found solace, if only briefly, from the darkness inside him.

“Brace yourself,” Max said as he opened a door.

Hammocks hung everywhere, and the scent of sweat and other body odors was strong as he entered with Essie behind him. He felt her pressing close to his back, but she said nothing. Here were more memories, of nights spent praying that daylight would not bring another thrashing.

Max found Tiny huddled in his hammock, curled in on himself, no doubt to try and fight the agony he was suffering. His breathing was ragged.

“Tiny.” Max leaned over him. “You’re safe now, boy.”

Essie moved to the other side to look at him.

“I’m taking you away from here.”

The boy lifted his head, and pain was etched in his face as he tried to focus through bruised and swollen eyelids.

“Tiny, my name is Essie. Will you let me look at you, dear?”

Her voice softened, as it always did when she treated children. Max called it her soothing voice. She’d used it on him that night her lovely body had warmed him.

“You’ve had a horrid time of things, Tiny, but that is about to change.” She continued talking as her hands travelled over the boy’s broken and beaten body. “This man is going to give you a bright new future, Tiny. So you have nothing to fear now.”

If he hadn’t decided to do so already, if he hadn’t bought several houses to save these boys, he would do so for her. Such was the power, he was beginning to realize, she had over him.

“Can you find something to splint his leg?”

Max did as she asked, and returned with two pieces of wood. She untied her bonnet and held it out to him.

“Tear off the ribbons, please.”

He did as she asked again.

She tied the wood on either side of Tiny’s leg and bound it with the ribbons.

“It will have to do for now. Pick him up gently, Max.”

The boy was insensible with pain and fever. Max was sure he had no idea what was happening, as he slid his hands under the painfully thin body.

“Lead the way, Essie.”

She did, and he carried Tiny, who winced with every jolt. They arrived up on deck to find the Sinclair brothers standing where they’d left them, and the crew and captain looking enraged.

“Take the bag of coins from my pocket, Miss Sinclair.”

She hurried to do as Max asked of her.

“Throw them at Captain Hoyt’s boots.” She did, and the weight of coins made a loud clinking sound as the bag collided with the wooden deck.

“That is payment for the boy. From this day forth, he is under my protection. And if I hear you have mistreated any more cabin boys, I will return, Hoyt, and this time I will pull the trigger.”

He nodded to the brothers.

“You first, Huntington. Essie, you follow.”

He did as Lord Sinclair asked, and soon they were off the ship and standing on the dock.

“Where is your carriage?” Devonshire Sinclair said.

“Not far. Please allow me to thank you for your intervention. I should have taken men with me. Also for your help, Miss Sinclair, however misguided.”

“I will come with you in the carriage. The boy needs tending.”

“Cam, go with them, and I shall follow,” the eldest Sinclair directed with the ease of someone who was used to having his orders obeyed.

“There is no need—”

“Lead on, Huntington,” Cambridge Sinclair said. “The boy needs my sister’s attentions.”

He was used to taking the lead in all things, not following the orders of others, but these Sinclairs had a way of wresting the reins from his grasp.

Chapter Sixteen

Essie felt every bump as the little boy moaned in pain. She sat with his head on her lap, and Max and Cam sat opposite.

“We should have just shot that bastard!” Cam snarled.

“Even noblemen cannot simply shoot people, Mr. Sinclair.”

Max’s words were calm in the face of Cam’s fury, but she knew better. She saw the fist clenched on his lap, and the banked rage in his tawny eyes.

“You don’t have a very flattering opinion of noblemen, do you, Huntington?”

“No.”

Just the one word. Her brother snorted.

“I acknowledge that you and your brother may be different, however.”

“How kind of you.”

Essie did not want to feel anything for Max Huntington but anger at his treatment of her. But in just a few days she had seen so many differing things in connection with the man. The warehouse filled with boys like Silver and Peter, the man dressed elegantly and conversing with a duke at her aunt and uncle’s ball, and now this, the avenging Mr. Huntington who was on that boat to save Tiny.

“Not long now, Tiny, and I shall have you feeling better, I promise.”

The boy sighed and turned his head into her skirts.

“You smell good.”

“It’s a special blend I have made,” Essie said. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I wish more women took your advice in the matter,” Cam said.

Essie brushed Tiny’s matted hair and stroked a cheek, and the boy shuddered. Her heart ached for his pain. She could not bear to see her little brother and sisters with so much as a sore throat, and here lay this stoic boy who had suffered through so much alone.

“We are here.”

Max took the boy from her and stepped from the carriage. Cam and Essie followed. They were outside a large red-brick building. On the left and right were businesses, one belching smoke, the other steam. Max did not stop, he simply walked up to the front door and opened it.

“How the hell does anyone sleep with all that noise going on?” Cam said, placing a hand at her spine.

“Where are we?” Essie asked her brother.

“Somewhere in the East End, I believe.”

They followed Max’s tall form. The building looked like a shop front, with mullioned windows on both sides of the steps up to the entrance. The inside did not dispel that notion. A large counter ran the length of the room. Max had lifted one end, walked through, and opened a door when they arrived.

“The children would love this place,” Cam muttered, urging her to follow. “They’d play at being shopkeepers all day.”

The next room was a large storage room. Here they found supplies stacked neatly on shelves. At the rear of the room was a set of narrow stairs.

“Come,” Max said, beginning to climb.

“Not a man to use two words when one will do, then,” Cam said.

“Unlike every member of our family,” Essie added, following Max. The sound of children’s voices grew as they reached the next floor. Walking down a long hallway, they passed a room filled with boys seated around a long table.

“Do those boys all live here?”

Max nodded as he turned into another room. This one held beds lining both sides. He moved to the one nearest the door and pulled back the bedcovers, then gently lowered Tiny onto it.

“Do you have a nightshirt that we can put him in?” Essie said. “I need warm water, soap, and something to wash him with also. What medical supplies do you have here?”

“I shall speak with Mrs. Wand and find out.”

Max left, and Essie removed Tiny’s shoes and shirt. The boy had his eyes closed now; the trip had obviously taken the last of his strength.

“Oh dearie me!”

A short, thin woman came bustling in with a basket over her arm. Behind her came a short, and if possible, thinner man, carrying a pail of steaming water. Dev was last through the door.

“I’m Mrs. Wand, and this is Mr. Wand.”

“Hello, I’m Miss Sinclair, and this is my brother Mr. Sinclair.”

Cam came to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Good day, Mr. Wand, Mrs. Wand.”

“If you will help, sir, I’m sure the boy will be happier if you clean him.” Essie smiled to Mr. Wand.

Between them they washed the boy gently, and she applied some of Mrs. Wand’s salve to his bruises, which Essie asked the recipe for.

“I would ask you to rip a rag into strips and find me several sticks, long enough to splint Tiny’s broken fingers and leg, please.”

Mr. and Mrs. Wand bustled away.

“Dev?”

“Here, love.” He moved to her side, his hand at her back.

“How is his color?”

“Weak.”

“I need you to check the boy now. Is anything happening inside him that I cannot see?”

Max came back into the room as Dev was bent to inspect the boy’s chest.

“What is he doing?”

“Ah….” Essie could find no words.

“He is very good at seeing where bruising forms,” Cam said calmly. “Often before it even comes out. He is checking the boy’s neck to ensure his airways have not been crushed.”

Essie held her breath as Max looked from Cam to Dev. She saw the doubt, but he said nothing as the Wands returned.

Exhaling, she hoped Cam’s words had appeased him.

“He is sleeping, but this will cause him pain, so please hold him.” The boy had already suffered so much, and now she was to inflict more hurt, but it was necessary if he was to use his hands properly and walk again.

Max stood across from her, his hand resting on Tiny’s shoulder. Cam settled his on the ankles, and Dev simply stood silently in support at her side. Essie picked up his abused hand, took the first finger, and straightened it, hoping she had bones aligned. She did so with the next one. Tiny woke crying when she reached the third.

“It’s all right now.” Max bent over the boy. “Tiny, Miss Sinclair is fixing your hand now, so you may have use of it in the future.”

“Yes, nose picking is not a skill anyone should learn to do with their feet,” Cam said.

Blurry with pain, the boy looked to the end of the bed and found a small smile.

“You’ll not mind him, Tiny. The man’s an idiot, but I hear most families have one,” Dev added.

Essie tamped down the distress over causing the boy pain, and splinted his fingers and leg. When she was done, she looked at her eldest brother, who shook his head to indicate the boy had no internal injuries.

“Well now, I believe I have finished torturing you, Tiny. I will leave instructions with the very capable Mrs. Wand for your care, and perhaps if you will allow it, I shall come back and check on you soon?”

The boy nodded, but no words came from his lips. Exhausted and in pain, his eyes fluttered closed once more.

“A very small amount of laudanum if you have it, Mrs. Wand. A little broth if he wakes, and if possible keep him drinking boiled water. I shall send over something for his pain and healing as soon as I return home.”

“I will see it done, Miss Sinclair, and I thank you for caring for him. Often I have to do so myself, as doctors won’t come here.”

Essie shot Max a look. His face was shuttered.

“If you have need of me while I am in London, then please send word. My brother will give you his card, Mrs. Wand.”

Dev did as she asked.

“Well! I’ve never had a lord in here before!” Mrs. Wand blushed.

“I assure you we are no different from the next man, and put our trousers on one leg at a time,” Dev said, bowing. His words caused the woman to giggle.

They left Tiny in her care and retraced their footsteps through the house silently. Max, Essie noted, followed.

“Is that a printing press?” Dev said as the reached the storeroom on the lower level. He and Cam moved to inspect a piece of machinery in the corner. Essie kept walking through the door and into the shop, sure Max had followed her brothers. She needed a moment alone. Making her way to the window, she looked over the street.

Seeing what had been done to that sweet little boy had upset her, but he had needed her help. Hurting him had not been easy either, as it never was when she must harm someone to heal them.

“Essex, are you all right?”

She didn’t turn to face Max as he spoke.

“Thank you, yes, and my name is Miss S-Sinclair.”

“Your hands are clenched.”

She did not release them, as she knew they still shook.

“If it upsets you to tend them, then why do you do it?” He moved to stand at her side, and Essie felt his eyes on her.

“Because boys like Tiny need to know that there is good as well as evil in this world.”

“Yes, they do.”

“How c-could that man cause that s-sweet boy so much pain?”

“Breathe in, Essie. That’s right, now exhale.”

She did as he said, listening to his deep voice. His fingers brushed the back of her fist, and she unfurled it and began to feel calmer.

“I would wish you to never again experience what you did today. However, I doubt you will listen to my words.”

“That is not my way.”

“And yet I wish it were, as tending those who are very ill hurts you.”

How was it he knew this about her when no one else did? Essie watched Bids through the window as he stroked the muzzle of one of her brother’s horses. Why did she feel calmer standing here beside the man who created so many conflicting emotions inside her?

“Thank you, Mr. Huntington.”

“For what?”

The sound of glass shattering was followed by Max throwing her to the floor. His big body smothered her seconds later.

“Don’t move!”

She was saved from answering by her brothers, who hurried into the room.

“Get off my sister!”

She tried to push Max aside, but he would not move.

“Someone shot at me, get down!”

Her brothers dropped to the floor and crawled to where she lay.

“Are you sure, Huntington?”

Essie exhaled as Max braced himself above her. His eyes held hers briefly before going to the wood behind the counter. Rage filled the tawny depths.

“If I’m not mistaken, that is a bullet.”

Dev followed Max’s gaze, then nodded. “It is.”

The shop door burst open suddenly, and in ran Bids.

“My lord!”

“Here, Bids, we are all well,” Dev said to his driver.

“A man rode up, fired at the window, and then fled. I could do nothing to stop him.”

Max got to his feet and then lifted Essie to hers. Her brothers followed.

“Did you see his face, Bids?”

“It was covered,” the driver said, shaking his head.

“All right. Prepare the horses now, Bids. We shall join you shortly.”

“Very well, my lord.”

She felt the tension radiating off the three men who surrounded her

“Is this the second attempt on your life, Huntington?” Cam asked the question.

“It is.” His eyes moved from Cam to Essie. “Are you well, Miss Sinclair? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I am quite well, thank you.”

“And who do you believe is trying to dispatch you, Huntington?” Dev asked. He moved to Essie’s side and rested a hand on her shoulder. The gesture was to assure himself and her that she was all right.

“If I knew that, my lord, I would have dealt with the matter. However, I have men looking into it.”

“Thank you for protecting my sister, Huntington.” Cam stepped forward and held out his hand. Max shook it.

“Considering your sister saved my life, and you and your brother came to my aid today, no thanks are necessary.”

“Let us leave now, as my sister has had enough shocks for one day.”

“I’m all right, Dev.”

“I’m not,” he muttered.

Max walked them outside, his eyes, like her brothers’, looking around them. Essie was hustled into the carriage.

“I suggest you expedite the matter of finding who is trying to kill you, Huntington, before they succeed.” Essie shivered at Dev’s words. The thought of Max dead made her light-headed.

“Trouble follows that man,” Dev muttered, once the carriage had started moving.

“It is hardly his fault someone wants him dead,” Cam said. His eyes were on Essie. “Are you all right? My heart nearly stopped when we found Huntington on top of you. It is not a moment I wish to recreate ever again.”

“The bullet was not aimed at me, Cam.”

“Accuracy is never to be relied upon in any weapon, sister. That bullet could easily have lodged itself in you.”

“God, that thought makes me feel sick,” Dev growled.

What made her feel sick was that someone wanted Max dead, and if they kept trying, one day they may succeed.

Chapter Seventeen

Max kicked a pebble along the path before him. Yawning, he hoped tonight yielded more sleep than the last one. He was tired for no other reason than every time he closed his eyes he dreamt about Essex Sinclair. He’d not seen her for three weeks, which, considering he now lived on the same street as the Sinclair family, was quite something.

She had personally brought over tonics and ointments for Peter to his warehouse, along with woolen things for him to wrap around his neck or place on his chest. She had also helped Silver with his headaches. Tiny was improving from her care, too. He knew this because Edward told him that according to Mrs. Wand, Miss Sinclair was an angel, which of course Max already knew.

That she had come to visit his properties the days he was elsewhere had made him wonder how she’d known he would be absent. He’d tried to tell himself it was better this way, because she was safe if Max was not there. Safe from a stray bullet. The thought of what could have happened to her that day gave him chills. No, it was better he kept his distance from Essex Sinclair. She was trouble for him, as he was for her. She made him wish for what he could not have. It didn’t help that he ached for her, either.

“What fates had aligned to place me minutes from the woman I cannot not stop thinking about,” Max muttered in disgust. “I have kept my distance, so why does the burn inside me not ease?”

Max looked to the right as he heard a dog barking, and to his delight saw Myrtle. She was coming his way fast. He climbed over the fence that would put him inside the park, and dropped to his haunches.

“Hello, girl.” She put her paws on his shoulders, and he scratched behind her ears. Max was ridiculously pleased to see her. He was sure her blue eyes were smiling up at him.

“Hello.”

Looking behind the dog, he found the owner of that voice approaching.

“Good day, madam.” Max raised his hat as she giggled. He smiled, because who wouldn’t when presented with such a delight? The little girl had black ringlets, sparkling green eyes, and... hell, another one.

“My name is Somerset Sinclair, and I saw you walking into a house on our street.”

Of course she was a Sinclair; he recognized those green eyes.

“I did not realize the entire street was owned by a single young lady.”

She snuffled this time.

“My uncle, brother, and sister have houses there, so it is almost ours, don’t you think?”

“I would certainly think you have a stronger claim than any of the other residents, Miss Somerset.”

“What is your name, sir?”

“Mr. Huntington, but you can call me Max.”

“I like Max, it’s a nice name.”

“I’ve always been pleased with it.”

“My dog is called Myrtle and she doesn’t usually like strangers, but she likes you.”

“I’ve been to Oak’s Knoll. Your sister treated an ailment of mine there, and I met Myrtle then. She fell instantly in love with me.”

She seemed to consider him for a moment. “I’ve heard your name mentioned in my brother’s house before.”

“I hope what was said flattered me,” Max teased.

“My brother said you have a smart mind.”

“Which brother?”

“Cambridge.”

“That was nice of him, don’t you think?”

She smiled, showing a row of little white teeth.

“Cam is not always nice, in fact he can be quite wicked. However, he lets Dorrie, Warwick, and me do whatever we like to him. Yesterday, we dressed him in one of Essie’s scarves and a bonnet.”

Max laughed at the vision. “An ideal elder brother, then.”

“Somer!”

The shriek came from behind the little girl. Myrtle left Max and bounded to greet the newcomer.

It seemed his return home was to be delayed. He wondered why he was to be constantly reminded of Essex Sinclair. Was it any wonder he could not remove her from his mind?

He watched another little girl running toward them. Legs churning, arms pumping, she reached them in no time.

“Dorrie, this is Max. Mr. Huntington, Max, this is my twin sister, Dorset.”

“Pleasure.” Max was now on his knees, as Myrtle had returned and wanted her belly rubbed. He was enjoying the interlude in what had been a taxing day. Just thinking about her made his body tense. The woman would not be dislodged from his head, no matter how hard he tried. Of course, he could try harder by moving away from her and having nothing to do with her family, the voice inside his head reasoned.

“You can call him Max, because he likes it, Dorrie.”

The twin was cut from the exact same cloth, except her face was thinner.

“Hello, Max.”

“Miss Dorset.”

“We are to eat our picnic now, Somer, and Ellie is attempting to stop Warwick from starting before you arrive. Emily and Samantha are trying to stop him also, but the task is not an easy one.”

Both girls’ faces were serious, and Max found them both utterly charming.

“How wonderful, a picnic with your friends on such a lovely day,” Max said.

“Emily and Samantha are the duke’s sisters, and he is married to our sister,” Dorrie said, in that way children had of explaining things. They were very thorough, and if you interrupted they just went back and started again.

Max had not known the Duke of Raven had sisters, but then why would he? He had conversed with the man only briefly, and not on a personal level.

“He should be the size of Mrs. Tiffen by now with the amount of food he eats. It is quite disgusting, Max.”

“Mrs. Tiffen being?” Max questioned, as he tried to hold back the laughter.

“She is a friend of our aunt’s, and when she comes to tea, we have to get to the cake first or she will eat it all,” Dorrie said.

“Yes, and she pinches our cheeks.” Somer sighed. “But as she is too large to move from her chair once seated, we have worked out that if we stay several feet away, she cannot reach us.”

“Warwick is the same. Dev, our brother, says he has hollow limbs where he stores all the food.” Dorrie picked up the conversational reins.

“He is a growing lad.” Max felt duty bound to defended his fellow man... or boy, in this case.

“Our aunt says that. But we are growing too,” Dorrie said. “Just not at the same rate. Warwick has large feet.”

“Does he? Well then, he will likely be a large man.”

“My brothers are big, but do you know what, Max?”

“What, Somer?”

“They are soft inside, my aunt says. Because they spoil us terribly.”

Max felt an uncomfortable tug of longing to have just once experienced this feeling of family. Looking into the earnest green eyes of these little girls, he wondered what it would be like to have a child of his own. Someone who relied on him for their support and survival.

Dear Christ, what am I thinking?

“We’re very intelligent,” Somer said, looking at Max. Her eyes weren’t sly, she was just stating what she believed to be a fact. “Ask us a question, and we’ll answer it.”

“Surely you don’t know everything?”

“Most things,” Dorrie answered.

Two little faces looked up at him expectantly.

“Plus we speak several languages, but if you do not, that’s all right,” Somerset said, and Max wasn’t entirely sure, but felt he’d just been classified as a simpleton.

“Somer, Dorrie!”

Another small girl was now hurtling toward them. This one had hair the color of wheat, and as she drew near he saw twinkling blue eyes.

“This is Samantha, Max. She is the duke’s sister.”

“Lady Samantha.” Max rose and bowed.

“Oh, she’s just Samantha, and this is Max.”

The blue eyes looked up at him, assessing, enquiring as the twins had been.

“Hello. You have the same hair and eyes as a lion.”

“Do I?”

The girls conferred silently, and then nodded.

“You’re also very large.”

“Well, I promise I neither growl nor bite. Especially not pretty little girls, and especially not on such a lovely day.”

“We’re very bright,” Samantha said.

“I just told him that,” Dorrie added.

“Well then.” Somer looked at Max expectantly, which he guessed was his cue.

“Spell able,” he said in French, sure they would not know the language and were just boasting about speaking several. To his surprise they all made pffft noises, and in unison spelled the word with ease in French.

He went for quartet next, in Italian, because he was absolutely sure that these sweet-faced little girls could not know the language. Again they recited it letter perfect.

“You are not really trying, Max,” Somer said. She was now sitting on the grass, small legs out in front of her, while her sister was at her back, braiding her curls. Samantha was plucking grass and building a pile in her skirts. A charming mix of youth and age, the girls were comfortable with him, much to his surprise. But then children, he’d realized early in his life, were not jaded by experience if they had people watching over them to ensure no darkness touched them.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he stood there leaning on that fence quizzing them, but he had to extend himself, and was thankful for the tutors he had employed when he realized that to go forward in the world, he needed knowledge.

He laughed when they were funny and crowed to him about their prowess, and did the same when he won. He watched a woman appear behind the girls. She hesitated, and then started toward them with a young boy at her side. She was slender with fair hair, and the eyes looked familiar. This was the duke’s other sister.

“Emily, this is Max, Mr. Huntington!” Somer shrieked, leaping to her feet for no other reason that Max could see, than she could.

“Good day.” Max bowed.

“Good day.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Now we must return, as Warwick is getting hungry awaiting you.”

“Forgive me, I did not mean to occupy them, but we have been quizzing each other.”

Emily smiled again. “They have quite a ferocious intellect, Mr. Huntington.”

“That they do, but I think I managed to acquit myself adequately.”

“We cannot eat until you come back, so hurry!” The youngest male Sinclair was glaring at the three young girls. He had knobbly knees, and his black hair was flopping over his eyes, but Max saw his siblings in him. One day he would be the size of his brothers.

“Don’t be rude, Warwickshire. We are speaking with Max,” Somer scolded.

“Good day to you.” Max nodded to the boy.

The boy moved closer and looked at him. “You’ve just moved into our street. I heard you talking the other night.”

“Yes, I have.” Max wondered where the boy had been to hear him talking. “And now I must bid you all goodbye, as I have an appointment.”

“Goodbye, Max!” the little girls cried. Warwick grunted something, took his sisters’ arms, and dragged them back to the maid.

“Good day, Mr. Huntington.”

“Good day, Lady Emily.” He vaulted back over the fence.

The smile fell from her lips. “I am not Lady Emily. My name is Miss Tolly.”

“Forgive me,” Max said, but she had already turned and walked away, leaving him feeling like he’d hurt her in some way. It was not a comfortable feeling, which was odd, considering he did not even know the woman, and if she was the duke’s sister why was she Miss Tolly?

Max shook his head, pushing the incident aside. He had enjoyed the brief interlude with the children, but now he had work to do. Looking up the road, he saw his house, and then his eyes went to the duke’s, and further down the street to where Essie was staying. He was a fool for doing this, moving in here where he could see her.

He’d almost reached the end of the park when he heard the piercing shriek. It had not been one of pleasure or excitement, but fear. He didn’t hesitate, but leaped back over the fence and ran into the park as fast as his legs would carry him.

Chapter Eighteen

Essie lifted her face to the sun, enjoying the warmth on her cheeks. Her aunt was not here to scold her, just Grace.

“You will get freckles if you keep that up.”

“It feels lovely, Grace.”

“I’m sure it does. However, it is not good for your complexion, Miss Sinclair.”

Sighing, Essie lowered her face and continued walking. She had just passed Eden and James’s house, and was going to the park to see the children. She knew Max now lived on this street, as he had told Cam he was moving there. But as yet she had not seen him, nor did she plan to. She had been sending one of her brother’s footmen to check if Max was in his warehouse or the boys’ home before she paid calls. Thus far she had avoided him, and hoped to continue to do so.

Every day she prayed that whoever wanted him dead failed. Hoped that they had been caught. Thus far he was safe. She knew, because Tiny had told her he visited every day to check on his recovery.

“Something is wrong,” Essie said suddenly as an acid taste filled her mouth.

“Essie!”

Up ahead she saw Warwick running toward her. His little face was anxious and pale.

“What is wrong, Warwick?” She gathered him close as he threw himself at her. “Tell me.”

“It’s Samantha, sh-she fell in the w-water, you must come quick.”

Essie didn’t hesitate. Picking up her skirts, she clasped her little brother’s hand and ran. She had managed only a few feet when she saw Max approaching with Samantha in his arms. Dorrie and Somer were crying, and Emily looked scared.

“Essie, help her!” Max’s words were desperate as she approached.

“Is she conscious?” Essie touched the little girl’s cold cheek.

Max shook his head. He had no jacket or hat, and his clothes were wet.

“I heard a cry and ran into the park, and found her in the water. Miss Tolly was about to throw herself in when I arrived.”

“I-I can’t swim, but I would have tried for Samantha.”

“It’s all right now,” Essie said to Emily. “We will have her well in no time.” She prayed she was right. “Run ahead now, Emily, and inform James and Eden of what has happened. Once inside the house, open the door to the closest room that has a table, we will be on your heels.”

As Emily ran back to the house, Essie urged Max on. “We must get her to the house at once, Max.”

“She’s not breathing, Essie,” Max said, softly so as not to frighten the children.

They ran, with him clutching a limp Samantha to his chest. James was running out the door with Eden on his heels as they arrived seconds later.

“There is no time to waste!” Essie cried as they reached her.

She heard the thunder of feet and knew it would be her brothers and Lilly. They would have sensed something was not right. Max ran through the doorway and into the room Emily indicated, with everyone on his heels.

“Lower her to the table, and then step back, please.” Essie moved to the little girl and touched her neck. There was no pulse.

“Everyone in a circle around the table, hold hands,” Essie said. “No, Lilly, you cannot heal carrying a baby.” She urged her sister-in-law back as she stepped closer. “Form part of the circle. Children in too, we need your strength.” No one made a sound, just did as she said.

Essie moved over the still little girl, and placed her hands on Samantha’s chest. She felt Lilly’s hand on her neck, and knew behind her the others would be taking hands and forming a circle around the child. When Dev wrapped his fingers around her wrist, completing the circle, the surge of strength and power came.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Essie lifted Samantha’s chin, opened her mouth, then inhaled and exhaled into the girl’s mouth. The child’s chest rose and fell. She did it again, and then pressed down gently on Samantha’s heart and felt the surge of power come from her family, through her and into the child. No one spoke, but she could feel the tension as she repeated the process. After the second time, Samantha started to cough.

“Samantha, I need you to open your eyes for me now. It’s Essie, sweetheart, open your eyes, come on.” The eyelids flickered.

“Samantha, come on, love, please.” James’s words were thick with emotion.

Her lashes fluttered upward, and she tried to focus on Essie.

“Hello, darling.” Essie turned Samantha onto her side, where she proceeded to be violently ill over the carpet. Essie felt Dev’s hand briefly in her hair, and then the connection was broken.

“Christ!” James expelled a loud breath.

“I feel sick, Essie.”

“I know, love,” she soothed the child.

“James.” Samantha’s voice was weak.

Essie moved aside so James could get closer. He lifted the child into his arms and held her close. Essie saw the relief as he closed his eyes briefly and lowered his face to his sister’s damp hair.

“Emily?”

“I am here, Samantha.”

“Eden?”

“Here also, sweetheart.”

Raised without love or support, when she was scared or ill, Samantha needed all those she loved dearest close.

“Everyone is here, Samantha,” James said, holding her close. “Your family are all close.”

“We need to warm her up now, James,” Essie said. She could not allow herself to feel the fear yet; she had to hold on to it and remain strong until she was alone. Clenching her hands briefly, she fought the shivers that wanted to consume her. “A-a bath, and then some broth, b-but nothing too heavy, as her stomach will be sore. I will make a tonic for her.”

“Essie.” Cam stepped to her side and pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right now, love.”

Closing her eyes, she absorbed his strength, and then eased out of his arms, feeling calmer.

“W-we must get Samantha to her room.”

They all trooped down the hall and up two sets of stairs, and soon Samantha was settled in her own bed.

“Check her colors, Dev.”

“She’s a bit weak, but they are strengthening.”

“Her lungs are clear,” Eden said next, after listening to Samantha’s chest.

The little girl sat solemn-faced in her big bed, nodding as James started his lecture.

“I have told you many times about getting too near the water, Samantha.”

“I know, James, but there was just the right stick floating by.”

“God’s blood.” James huffed as he slumped to the bed beside his sister. “You scared us, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“Our new friend saved you, Samantha.” Somer said the words softly as she climbed on the bed with Dorrie.

“New friend?” Cam asked.

Essie looked around her, only now realizing that Max was not with them. When had he left? More importantly what had he seen?

“Max stood with us for a long while,” Dorrie said. “Quizzing us with tricky questions, and then he left and we went to have our picnic, but we stopped by the water for Samantha to get the stick.”

“Did he now,” Eden said, throwing Essie a look. “Mr. Huntington is a man of many talents, it seems.”

“He speaks several languages, but he asked us questions about steam engines, which Samantha pointed out was unfair. But he said that he was not allowing us to beat him, so he had to pose a few questions that we didn’t know.”

“But we are going to learn about steam engines now,” Somer said. “Uncle will be able to help us.”

“Come and see Samantha, Warwick.” Eden urged all the children onto the bed, which left the adults alone to talk.

“I can never thank you enough, Essie.” James hugged her hard. “You saved my sister’s life.”

“Actually, we all did that. Without their strength, I’m not sure I would have succeeded.”

“What was that thing you did with your mouth?” Cam asked.

“I read something about it two months ago, and I remember thinking at the time that it made perfect sense, putting your air into a body that is not breathing.”

“You’ve never tried it before?” James said, running a hand through his hair.

“No.”

“Well, my dear sister-in-law, can I say how pleased I am for your thirst for knowledge.”

“He saw us,” Essie whispered suddenly. “Saw what I did... what we did.”

“Who?” Lilly looked around.

“Mr. Huntington. He saw what I did, what you all did.”

“I’m not sure that he did, he may have left by then,” Dev said, coming to Essie’s side. “And what did he see but family supporting each other?”

“I said I needed your strength,” Essie whispered. “And told Lilly she could not heal, as she was carrying the baby.” Ice sluiced through her veins.

“It will be all right, love.” Dev settled a large hand on her shoulder.

“He cannot begin to understand you Sinclairs. Christ, I still can’t work it out, and I’m married to one,” James added. “One thing I do know, however, is that I owe him a debt of gratitude for getting Samantha out of the water.”

“He has left the house,” Eden said. “Jenny, one of the maids, is telling the housekeeper about him. Apparently Mr. Huntington is fiercely handsome, almost as handsome as her master and those Sinclairs.”

“Oh come now,” Cam scoffed. “There is no way that man is more handsome than us.”

“Vanity is a sin,” Emily snapped.

“This is not your fault, Em,” James said to his sister.

“I should have stopped her, James, but she is quick, and fell before I could do so.”

Essie could see Emily blamed herself for what had happened. Another who had been raised in an unhappy and unhealthy situation, she still bore the scars.

“No, you could not have.” Unlike Samantha, who now liked to be hugged, Emily was stiff under the arm her brother wrapped around her shoulders. “The fault is hers alone, and I will not have you believing differently, Emily.”

She nodded, and then stepped out of the embrace and left the room.

“I’ll talk to her,” Cam said.

“You’ll argue with her,” Dev scoffed.

“Maybe she needs that now?”

Essie watched him leave the room. “Samantha needs sleep, so we shall leave. Come, Warwick, Dorrie, and Somer.” Essie gave Eden and James instructions, and advised what to watch out for with Samantha. “Perhaps you should call a doctor?”

“Why?” James questioned.

“To check her over thoroughly. After all, I am not qualified—”

“I have faith in you, so no doctor will be called,” James said.

“Stay and take tea,” Eden said, moving to her husband’s side. He lifted an arm and she slipped under it. James kissed his wife’s head. It was a gesture as natural as breathing to them now, and Essie was glad for her sister. She may not have love in her life, but two of her siblings did, and that should be enough. Is enough, she corrected silently.

“No, Samantha needs quiet and rest. We will come and visit tomorrow.” And I want to be alone for a while.

The children for once did not argue, and soon she, Lilly, and Dev were leading them down the stairs.

“Where is Cam?”

“Talking with Emily, and he is being nice,” Warwick said.

“All right, well he can find his own way home then.” Dev ushered them to the front door.

“Max is devilishly smart, Dev.”

“Is he? How did you come to meet him?” Essie said.

“He was walking along the path beside the park and Myrtle ran to greet him, and then I called out hello,” Somer said.

“And then I arrived,” Dorrie added, not wanting to be left out. “And we told him to ask us questions, and he did.”

Essie knew he could be kind to children, as evidenced by those he looked after. But what did he now think of her, and her family?

“He ran straight to the water, and tore off his coat and jumped in,” Warrick said. “He did not hesitate either, Essie.”

“What if he tells other people what he saw, Dev?” Essie whispered to her brother.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “I think we shall pay him a call, and thank him for what he has done. Only then will you feel calmer.”

“Oh no... I don’t think that is necessary.”

“No, it’s a good idea really. James will likely get to it, but not for some time, so we shall thank him on his behalf,” Lilly said. She then looked around her. “Where is Myrtle?”

“She is with Max. I heard her bark.”

“Are you sure, Warwick?” Essie’s heart sank when her little brother nodded.

Before she could stop them, her little sisters and brother had begun marching up to Max’s door.

“Come back here at once! We cannot simply arrive. It is... well, it is not done.”

“We have to retrieve our dog, surely, sister?” Dev placed a hand on her back, took his wife’s hand, and propelled her forward. “I’m not sure what is going on between you and Huntington, but I believe there is something.”

“What? No.” Essie shook her head. “There is nothing. He is of course grateful, as I saved his life.”

“I think you doth protest too much.”

Dear God!

Chapter Nineteen

Max had left the duke’s house after Essie had got the child breathing. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but knew he’d witnessed something... some kind of miracle. He had seen dead people before, and that child, to his mind, had been in that state. Then Essie had told her family to form a circle, and touch each other, and she had breathed life into the child.

He shook his head. Max had tried to find a rational explanation for what he had seen. He’d heard of such things, that a person could be resuscitated, but never seen it done before. But there was more to the miracle he’d witnessed than that. He’d felt something in that room, as he had stood in tense silence beside the duke and Miss Tolly. Like he, they had not joined the circle. He had felt power flow as the Sinclairs had held hands.

And you are going mad, Huntington.

The bond between those people in that room had been undeniable. The connection they shared with each other was all-encompassing, and he had for those few precious moments felt part of it.

“Will that be all, Mr. Huntington?”

“Yes, thank you, Phillip.”

Moving to the windows now that he was warm and dressed in dry clothes, he looked to the street below.

Fear had dogged Max’s footsteps in his youth, and he had lived a life that he’d often thought resembled hell, but pulling that young girl from the water had shaken him. She had been terrifyingly limp in his arms. Looking down into her cold, lifeless face he’d felt a helplessness that he had long ago left behind. Why had seeing her in that condition upset him more than it should? She was nothing to him, surely? He’d seen people who had died from drowning before, even pulled dead boys from the water.

Max rarely felt fear, shame, or hurt anymore, and yet these bloody Sinclairs and Ravens were wrenching it from him far too often.

“Distance, Max. From this day forth, you must keep your distance.”

Essie had been magnificent. How could she believe she was not as special as her other siblings, when she was so much more than any person he had ever known?

When she had appeared, relief had made his knees weak. She would save the child, he had instantly known that. The woman could perform miracles; Max had seen them firsthand.

It was a strange thing, the bond these families shared. How was it that the elder Sinclair brothers had arrived at the Raven house at the exact time he and Essie had? Was their closeness such that they were aware when the others needed them? It did not sound feasible, and yet Max had seen much of the world, and discounted nothing without proof.

He now watched Essie, Lord and Lady Sinclair, and her siblings leave the duke’s house, each adult holding a child’s hand. Solemn-faced, they did not skip or smile like they had in the park, and he knew what had happened had scared them. He prayed this was the only fear they ever knew.

The children stopped outside his house and looked up to where he stood. Seconds later, the boy was walking toward it, and even three stories above them, he could see the horror on Essie’s face. She was saying something to Lord Sinclair, who shook his head and then propelled her to Max’s front door.

“Your family have come to retrieve you, Myrtle.”

The dog was sitting at his side, leaning into him as he scratched behind her ear. It was a strangely comforting feeling, and while he should not have let her follow him home, he had, because he wanted the companionship.

“Come along, you pesky animal.”

Max reached his front door at the same time as his butler.

“I have it, thank you, George.” He motioned him away.

Opening it, he looked down at the little people, and not, as he wanted, at the woman lurking some distance away.

“Hello. I see three Sinclairs on my doorstep.”

“Six,” Somer said. “Dev, Lilly, and Essie are behind us.”

Lifting his eyes, Max acknowledged them. “My lord, my lady, Miss Sinclair.”

“Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Huntington, but we wished to thank you for rescuing Samantha. She is very dear to us all. And also retrieve our dog, which I believe you have stolen.” Lord Sinclair was smiling, so his words had been intended as humorous.

“I’m sure if I were to steal a dog, it would be one with better manners than this one.” Max looked to where Myrtle was now seated on his boots, looking at her family.

“She likes you, and I’ve always found Myrtle a solid judge of character.”

Max wasn’t sure what the look in the other man’s eyes meant, so he looked at Essie, and saw the fear. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were wide. Healing the child had shaken her, as helping Tiny and Peter had.

“How is the patient? Recovering, I hope?”

“She will b-be fine, thank you, Mr. Huntington.”

Did her family not see how she suffered after doing what she did?

“Allow me to commend you. What you did saved that child’s life, and while I do not understand what took place in that room, I know that she would not be alive were it not for you.”

“Th-there is nothing to explain, I—”

“My sister is a very talented healer, Huntington.”

“She certainly is that, my lord.”

The straw bonnet framed her pretty, pale face, and the lemon satin ribbon was the same color as the flowers on her white dress. Why was it that every look this woman wore was alluring? Wearing her worn dresses and wool hair ties she’d aroused him, and the effect had not eased upon seeing her dressed as an elegant young lady.

“Will you quiz us again, Max?” Somer’s voice drew his eyes away from Essie.

“Surely you have no wish for me to trounce you once more with my superior knowledge?”

“You only beat us because you cheated.”

Max placed a hand on his chest. “I beg your pardon. You said ask any questions. It is hardly my fault you know nothing about steam power.”

“That will change,” he heard Lord Sinclair mutter.

“Pardon?”

“They will now study everything they can on the subject, so brace yourself, Huntington, you will not win so easily next time.” The eldest Sinclair looked down at his siblings, and Max again saw the love this family shared.

What would it be like to be loved?

“James scolded Samantha for being reckless.”

“Thank you, Warwick, Mr. Huntington does not need to know all the details,” Lady Sinclair said.

“I am glad she is to suffer no ill-effects, then.”

“Samantha is very important to us,” Dorrie said.

“She’s all right when she’s not giggling and squealing,” Warwick added.

“She does not squeal, Warwick.”

“That will do, thank you, Somer.” With ease of familiarity, Lord Sinclair stepped in to stop the argument that was about to escalate.

“We will bid you good day, Mr. Huntington. Say your goodbyes, children.”

“Can we look in your house?”

“Dorrie!”

Max swallowed his smile at Essie’s horror.

“Of course, come in now if you like. Besides, I have something I wish to show Miss Sinclair.”

“What?” Her brows lowered.

“Come and have a look.”

Her brother was looking at her, and then his eyes transferred to Max. They weren’t noticeably cooler, and yet he saw the question in the green depths.

“Just a few minutes then, Huntington.”

Lady Sinclair moved to follow the children, which left Essex and her brother little choice but to follow. Max was fast beginning to like Lady Sinclair.

“Of course.”

He led the way, with the three little Sinclairs skipping at his side. They went down some steps and then along a hallway, and at the end he motioned Warwick to open a door.

“Oh my!”

He heard the awe in Essie’s words, and couldn’t help but smile. He’d had the same feeling when he’d first seen it, but only because he knew she’d love it.

The roof was glass, as were the walls on both sides. At the end there was a door that led out to the gardens. The room was large and the air heavy with the scent of exotic flowers, fruit trees, and herbs.

“May I offer this to you if you should need anything from it, Miss Sinclair, for your supplies.”

“Thank you.” The fear had been replaced by wonder, and that, Max thought, was an excellent thing.

Max had often contemplated if he should tell her about this place. Self-preservation had held his tongue.

“There are so many things here I could use.” Essie’s eyes were going everywhere. “I have searched London for some of what I see.”

Lord Sinclair moaned. His wife laughed and clapped her hands. “How wonderful, Essie dear, and so close to home. You will not need to travel hither and yon anymore for your herbs.”

“Is there a problem, my lord?” Max could see that the man still looked pained, and went to stand at his side as his wife and siblings went deeper into the conservatory.

“It has things that grow, Huntington. Have mercy, I will never get my sister out of here now.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I knew of her gardens at Oak’s Knoll, and thought it would be of interest to her.”

The men stood and watched as she went from one side of an aisle to the other, looking everywhere. Seemingly he and her brother had been forgotten, which allowed him to observe her. When presented with such treasures, all else had paled into significance. She broke off leaves and chewed or sniffed them.

“You have twenty minutes and no longer,” Lord Sinclair said to his sister. “I will still have to drag her out of here.”

“Can I provide you with refreshment while you wait, my lord?”

Those green eyes turned on Max.

“No, but you can tell me what lies between you and my sister.”

“She saved my life,” Max said, holding his eyes. “I can never repay her for that. Without her, I would have surely died.”

“And you feel gratitude?”

Max nodded. He was not about to add more to that.

“Max, Dev! There is a statue of a naked man and woman back here!”

“Christ!” Lord Sinclair ran down an aisle. Max could hear Lady Sinclair giggling. He followed more slowly, taking the route that passed Essie.

“Please use whatever you wish.”

She was on her knees, uncaring that her skirts were getting dirty, grubbing about in the soil.

“Oh yes, thank you. I will, if you do not mind. There are some herbs here that I have been unable to locate.”

“You did not know that Lord Alverson had this here, then?”

She frowned, looking cross, and Max thought it was a better look than the fear. “No, and that displeases me hugely, as I once spoke with him about herbs, and even gave him a tonic for an ailment he was suffering from. Beastly man, how dare he keep this from me.”

“Perhaps he does not like to share?”

She was still frowning, and for once it was not because of him. In fact, Max realized that momentarily she had forgotten what lay between them. To have such a passion as she does must be a wonderful thing. What would it be like to be the sole focus of her passion? He’d experienced it once, and wasn’t sure he’d recovered fully.

“But herbs are for healing, and eating. Both of these things are meant to be shared. Knowledge gives us strength, and whoever planted these herbs knew what they were for, as this conservatory is filled with an extensive array of vegetation.”

“Not everyone is as kind and giving as you, Miss Sinclair.”

And just like that she remembered. The excitement went from her eyes, and suddenly she was guarded once more. Max hated to see it.

She got to her feet, ignoring the hand he held out to her. He smelled the herbs she now clutched, and clenched his fist to stop from brushing the dirt from her skirts.

“Thank you, Mr. Huntington. Now I know you have these herbs down here, I will send a maid to retrieve any I need.”

“What was that thing you did today, Essie? Breathing air into the girl’s lungs?” He had thought it strange at the time, but when she had started to breathe on her own, he’d known the action had saved the child’s life.

“I, ah, read a paper on it. It was first performed in 1744.”

“You read a great deal?”

She nodded.

“There is an extensive library here, if you wish to take a look.”

“Thank you, but I have plenty to read at the present time.”

He hated that cold, composed tone she retreated behind.

“What happened in that bedroom, Essie?” He touched her cheek briefly, needing the contact.

“I— Pardon?” She tried to step back, but had nowhere to go. “I just told you what I did.”

“I understand that. However, I felt something when you all touched each other. A charge of energy seemed to travel through me, and then you brought that girl back to life.”

The color that had risen in her cheeks drained away before his eyes.

“Th-that’s a strange th-thing to say, Mr. Huntington.”

“I mean you no harm, Essie, I merely wish to understand what I saw.”

Her fear confirmed his belief that what had taken place in that bedroom was not normal.

“We… we like to be close in times of trouble.”

“No, there was more to it than that, because if that is indeed the truth, then why were the duke and Miss Tolly excluded?”

“I-I have to go.”

He stopped her. “I saw your fear again after healing Samantha. Why do you not tell your family this happens to you?”

“I-it is nothing.”

“It is not nothing, Essie. Talk to me.” He tried to stop her, but she simply turned and walked through the garden, coming out the other side.

He found her family before she did, and Max knew she was taking the time to regain control of herself.

“Her breasts were bare, Dev.”

“Yes, thank you, Warwick, I think we all saw that.”

Max heard the strain in Lord Sinclair’s voice. Lady Sinclair, however, was still laughing.

“The male was naked also, Dev.”

“We saw that too, Dorrie, thank you.”

“They are curious, Dev, let them look,” Lady Sinclair said, to which her husband shook his head.

“No. The questions will be endless, and I am not ready for that.”

“I’m ready to leave now,” Essie said from behind him. Turning, he saw she was once again composed.

Max took them back to the front door and watched them walk away, and only the dog threw him a last look before she fell in behind her family.

Closing the door, he wondered what secrets that family harbored. They were unusual, he could now not doubt that. The duchess seemed to have an uncanny ability to hear things no one else could. Then there were Lord Sinclair’s eyes; they were unlike any Max had seen before. And what of Cambridge Sinclair? He seemed to sniff the air a great deal.

“Hardly enough evidence to say they were strange, Max,” he reminded himself.

And yet he had seen them today. Seen them touch each other, and felt the power flow through him. He hadn’t felt afraid, or threatened by them; what he had felt was wonder. But now he wanted to know why.

Chapter Twenty

“The Duke of Raven and Lady Samantha have called to see you, Mr. Huntington. They are at present in the upstairs salon.”

Max, who had been reading the morning paper, looked at his butler.

“You took them upstairs when I am seated downstairs?”

“It was the proper thing to do.”

“I’m sure it was,” Max said, rising. “You are far more proper than I, George.”

His butler managed a small smile at that.

“And are they in the formal salon, or the less formal one at the rear of the house?”

“He is a duke, Mr. Huntington.”

“The formal one it is then.”

Max had managed to master most of the nuances of society, but there were still things that confused him. For instance, the need for formal and informal rooms, and morning calls being undertaken in the afternoon. There were any number of strange customs that he was glad he did not have to understand, as he walked on the fringes of society. He was also in trade, and thus something of a barbarian in the eyes of many, so if he committed a faux pas, no one would be surprised, and indeed some would expect it of him.

Climbing the stairs, he guessed the duke was about to make his sister apologize.

“Good day,” he said, entering the room. The Ravens were seated on a sofa, but both rose as he walked in.

“Good day, Mr. Huntington.”

Max looked down into the sweet face of Lady Samantha. Her fair curls bounced as she shifted her weight between each foot, and her eyes moved from his face to his necktie and back again. She was exhibiting all signs of nervousness. Max was simply pleased to see her alive.

“Samantha,” her brother said in that voice Max was sure he used to get people to do his bidding.

“I have to apologize to you, Max… Mr. Huntington.”

“Max will do, Lady Samantha.”

“And I am Samantha.”

“And a very pretty name it is too.” He looked at the duke, who nodded, which Max gathered meant it was acceptable for him to use the girl’s name.

“Sorry,” she said in a forlorn voice, “for making you get wet to save me, and for worrying you… and everyone else.”

“Well then, I think you have thanked me enough, and as I accept, we shall let the matter rest now.”

“My sister—”

“Feels bad enough, your Grace. There is no need for me to make it worse.”

The duke exhaled. “Of course, and you are right, but I need her to know the consequences of her actions.”

“Which I fully understand, but as she probably received the worst shock of her life that day, I believe we can leave the matter alone now.”

“Oh no, I have received worse. Our father was a very bad man, and he did things to us that shocked me worse than falling in that water.” The little girl looked up at him with a sweet smile on her face, fully aware that she had just removed the attention from her with her words, and in doing so made her big brother extremely uncomfortable.

“Well then,” Max said, as he could come up with nothing else. That anyone would harm this sweet child made him angry. Looking at the duke, he saw something in the depths of his eyes that confirmed his sister had spoken the truth. Discomfort, certainly, but something else, a darkness, and as Max was the master at hiding those dark places inside him, he gave the man a moment to hide his once more.

“And have you been back to the park, or has your brother forbidden you?”

Samantha smiled at him, and he found himself responding as he did with the Sinclair children.

“We went yesterday, and I had two footmen with me, plus James and Emily.”

“I think you should learn to swim, Samantha, then you would always be safe around water.”

“We discussed that, actually.” The duke moved to stand behind his sister. “I think in light of her dunking I will make it happen.”

As he would, Max thought. The mighty duke would snap his fingers, and his sister would be taught. Although, perhaps now he did not see him as quite so mighty, in light of the small insight into his childhood his sister had shared.

“You had something else to ask Mr. Huntington, Samantha.”

Max looked from the duke to his sister.

“We are going to the Bartholomew Fair tomorrow, Max. Would you like to come with us?”

“My sister wanted to invite you,” the duke added.

“We are all going. The Sinclairs and that pesky Warwick.”

“Samantha, that will do.”

“Why is he pesky?” Max said, to give himself time to think. When she’d invited him, he’d had the instant urge to agree, then his mind had cleared.

“He ties my shoes together, and he tells me to be quiet because he says I talk too much.”

“And of course, you, Dorrie and Somer, never do anything to him, do you?” The duke snorted.

“He deserves it.”

“The boy has my sympathy. I imagine being a minority cannot be easy.”

“Exactly,” the duke agreed.

Samantha’s smile fooled no one.

“So will you come?”

“Ah, well as to that, I—”

“We are to take a picnic and there will be so many wonderful things, like cherry cakes, and toffee. So please do come, Max.”

“Don’t push, Samantha. Perhaps Mr. Huntington has something else to do tomorrow.”

“Do you?”

Max looked down into her face, and couldn’t find a single word except “Yes, I would love to come.”

She clapped her hands, then took his and did a little jig, swinging it back and forth.

“We shall have so much fun.”

“There is a seat in one of the Sinclair carriages, should you require a ride, Huntington.”

“No, I will ride, thank you, your Grace.”

“Very well, we shall leave at 11.00 a.m.”

The duke placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“Good day to you, Mr. Huntington.”

Max nodded. “Good day, your Grace, Samantha.”

He heard them leave, and still stood staring at the wall. What the hell had he just agreed to, and furthermore, why? Max did not do things like this. But that little girl had asked and he’d agreed, because he had found no words not to.

“I am unravelling,” he said, falling into a chair. “Or ailing for something.” He touched his forehead, but it was annoyingly cool.

Dear Christ, he was going to a fair with them. What the hell was he thinking?

Essie was seated inside the carriage as Max rode up on a large bay horse. He looked comfortable, his seat, unlike hers, perfect. His black hat was settled on his head, and the tawny curls beneath fluttered. His jacket was deep chocolate, and his necktie and shirt a crisp white. He wore a fawn-and-chocolate waistcoat, and fawn breeches. The sun glinted off his polished Hessians.

Oh for a slight imperfection, Essie thought. A squint or permanent snarl.

Had she not been seated across from Lilly and her two youngest sisters, she would have sighed. How could a man look so handsome riding a horse, seeing as she loathed horses? Which made no sense, but perfect sense to her. She was constantly confused and off-balance around this man. Even more so now he had said what he had about that day she had saved Samantha. He knew there was something different about her family.

“Mr. Huntington is a very handsome man, don’t you think, Essie?”

“Pardon?” She looked at Lilly.

“Mr. Huntington. I saw you looking at him.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“There is no shame in admiring a handsome man. Even my old married heart enjoys seeing such a sight.”

Lord, he’s beautiful, Essie thought as he drew closer. And she had touched that body, run her hands through that thick mane of hair.

“You just sighed, Essie, are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you, Somer.”

Dorrie and Somer leaned out the window.

“Hello, Max!” they shrieked.

“Must you shriek out the window like two hoydens?” Dev said, entering the carriage.

“Yes!” they cried together.

At least the twins had created a diversion, Essie thought as Lilly accepted a kiss from her husband.

“How is your sickness today, Lilly?”

“Much better, after you gave me that herbal tea to drink before I get out of bed.”

“I am glad.”

“Of course Eden is not sick, which is unfair, don’t you think?” Lilly said loud enough so that Eden would hear.

“Yes, but she is already bloated, dear, and you are not, so you see there is a fairness there after all.”

Dev snorted, and Lilly winked. In the next carriage she was sure that Eden would be rolling her eyes. Of course she was not bloated, or anything but beautiful, but still, it made Lilly feel better to pretend.

“You look beautiful,” Dev said to his wife. He bent to tie up Dorrie’s shoe ribbon. Her brother would be a wonderful, if overprotective parent.

“Thank you, darling.”

“Is Toby coming, Lilly?”

“He is, and at present is seated with Warwick, as he did not feel comfortable in here surrounded by such beauty, Dorrie.”

Essie swallowed her smile as her sisters preened.

The carriages rolled out then, and they were soon travelling through London. Of Max she thankfully saw no sign, which suggested he rode with the first carriage.

“We have been blessed with the weather,” Lilly said.

“Indeed we have.”

She listened as Dev and Lilly conversed, and the twins chattered, excited about their outing. Essie spent the time counselling herself on her behavior toward Max. She would be calm, and treat him like she would any stranger.

But he’s not a stranger, is he? He knows you intimately…. Well, her body anyway.

Did he think about what they’d done? Had it meant as much to him as it had to her?

“Are you all right, Essie? You look flushed.”

“Fine, thank you, Dev.”

She would be polite and yet keep her distance. She would treat Max as she did every man who was not her family. The trouble came when he was alone with her, or when he touched her, so she would ensure those situations did not arise.

“I’m surprised Huntington decided to join us. I did not think him the type to engage in family outings.”

“Perhaps it is the novelty,” Essie found herself saying. “I don’t believe he has close family ties.”

“Did he tell you that at Oak’s Knoll?” Her brother’s eyes held hers.

“He did. Apparently his family still live in France, where he was raised.”

“I wonder why he landed in England then?” Lilly said.

“I have no idea, we never discussed the matter,” Essie said. But he’d told her he had no relationship with his family, and she remembered offering her home as his, should he need it, because she felt sorry that he had no one at his back.

Distance, Essie, she reminded herself. Put it behind you.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Children will take the hand of an adult, and there will be no running off.”

Max listened silently to the orders both Raven and Sinclair were firing at their families in perfect harmony. The children listened patiently. The adults rolled their eyes.

He had wanted to send word several times over the last twenty-four hours that he would not be able to attend, and yet something had always stopped him from doing so. What, he had no idea, but this morning he had convinced himself it was because he wanted to observe this unusual family, and it had nothing to do with the eldest Sinclair sister.

His eyes found Essie, standing to the rear of the group with her brother Warwick leaning on her legs. The boy did that often, Max had noted. Not quite as confident as his sisters, he was usually found with an adult. But then, having a best friend at your side since birth had to be confidence building.

She was, as usual, exquisite. Dressed in rose today, she looked so bloody beautiful it actually made his chest hurt, which couldn’t be a good thing. Yet still, here he stood, with this unusual group of people he was no closer to working out than he had been yesterday. About to spend the day in her company. Why, he wondered, was he torturing himself unnecessarily.

Dragging his eyes from Essex, as she had not looked his way once and was not likely to, he focused on the other stranger in the group today, a young boy who, unlike the other children, had an air about him that was familiar to Max. His boys carried the same look. Wise beyond their years.

“He is one of my boys.”

Max found Lady Sinclair at his side.

“The first child I rescued, actually. We found him beaten on the doorstep of the house I run.”

“And he comes on outings with you and your family?” Max said.

“He does, because he has always been different from the others. He never wanted to leave. He now lives at Temple Street with Mr. and Mrs. Davey, who run the house.”

Max nodded. He’d offered whatever support was needed to the boys he rescued, but he never gave them too much of himself. Perhaps because he did not have too much to give, or if he was honest, he did not know how to offer more than a roof, food, and financial stability to those boys. He wasn’t a man who invested in emotions.

“So in brief, you will make sure you are in sight of an adult you know at all times.”

“My husband had to add on the bit about the adult being someone they know, because those children are devilishly tricky, and will outsmart you in a heartbeat.”

“Yes, their intellect is a terrifying thing.”

Once the lecture was over, they all moved as one into the fair.

“I want to see the fire eater, Max.”

He found one of the twins at his side, her hand slipping into his without asking permission.

“And then the time-telling pig.”

“Pardon?” He calmed his breathing. It was a child’s hand, for pity’s sake, not a venomous serpent. Surely he could do this?

“It’s true.” She swung his hand. “There is a blindfolded pig who can tell the time down to the minute, and also pick cards from a pack.”

“Oh now, you can’t really expect me to believe that,” he said, closing her little hand inside his. One day, Max thought. He would do this for a day, and after that he would move out of that bloody house and put some distance between him and these disturbing people.

“I do not tell untruths, Max, my brothers and sisters get quite angry if I do.”

“Like that has ever stopped you,” came the dry voice of Cambridge Sinclair, who walked ahead with Dorrie.

“I want to see the dolls.” Samantha skipped at her brother’s side.

“We want to see the skeleton, and the elephant that can uncork bottles,” Warwick said, still holding Essie’s hand. Toby walked at his side, holding no one.

“That could come in handy when one is on a bender,” Cambridge drawled.

Max realized over the next two hours that he would not have enjoyed the Bartholomew Fair quite as much were it not for the company he shared.

“Well I declare, that man has a young boy on his lap… or is it a doll? Whoever he is, he speaks very well.”

Max looked to where the duchess was pointing. Her eyes twinkled with laughter. It was a ventriloquist’s dummy. He didn’t have to wait long for one of the children to answer.

“Eden,” Warwick sighed, as if his sister’s intellect disturbed him. “That is a ventriloquist”—he pointed to the man—“and that is his dummy. The dummy cannot speak.”

“However, he is,” the duchess pointed out.

They all surged closer, and it did indeed appear the dummy was speaking. The children gathered closer and conferred.

“The man is making him speak,” Dorrie said.

“And yet I do not see his lips move,” Lord Sinclair said. “Do you, Essie?”

She tilted her head slightly as if to think the matter over, and his eyes went to that place just beneath her ear that Max knew would taste so good.

“No, and surely a man that size would speak in a deeper voice?”

He’d noticed that they constantly challenged the children, questioned how and why things were as they were. Max had to admit to being impressed. He’d never had someone to guide him, but thought it would have been nice to have these people at his back.

“Perhaps there is a boy inside that doll?”

The children conferred again.

“His legs are too small,” Samantha said.

“Well, your legs are small,” the duke pointed out.

They discussed the dummy until all parties were satisfied, and then moved on. Much to his surprise, there was a time-telling pig, and a Red Indian up next.

“That will teach you to doubt them, Huntington.”

“Had someone told you about a time-telling pig before your sisters did, you would have scoffed too, Mr. Sinclair.”

“I try to be open-minded, Huntington, as life has a way of kicking you in the ass if you aren’t.”

“Cam said ass!”

Max laughed as Warwick went running to tell his big brother.

“They were so sweet before they could talk.”

“Sinclair, had you no one to tell on you, then you would be worried. You and your family are lucky people.” Max meant the words, he just hadn’t meant to say them out loud with quite so much feeling.

The Sinclair green eyes focused on him.

“I know how lucky I am, thank you, Huntington.”

And he did, Max realized. They all did, and showed it in small gestures, like a kiss to the head or brush of a hand. The adults had been called upon to inspect any number of things, and no one had muttered a protest. This, Max realized, was what it meant to be part of a family.

Suddenly his chest felt tight as those green eyes of Cambridge Sinclair looked pityingly at him.

“If you will excuse me, I shall return to you all shortly.” He bowed and walked away.

Space, Max thought. He needed space to find the man he had always been. What had possessed him to come here today with these people? It was her, he had wanted to be near her, and the family was just part of that... her.

You are a fool, Huntington.

Walking blindly through the crowds, he kept moving until he could breathe again and the tightness in his chest eased.

“This is not for you,” he rasped. He did not want this. A family, to be part of something that could hurt him.

He saw her up ahead, Essex, haggling with a man over a purchase. He found no other Sinclair, and wondered when she had broken the rules and left the group. Moving closer, he felt a shiver down his spine. Turning, he searched the crowds but saw no one looking his way, so he continued on, but Essie had gone.

Essie moved through the tent, looking at the display of scarves. She would purchase one for her aunt, and then return to the others. She had told Lilly she was going to see the herbalist, and her sister-in-law had said she would tell Dev if he asked, but made her promise to take care.

“Hello, darling.”

The stench of alcohol made her nose wrinkle. Searching the face of the young man who had spoken, she did not recognize him.

“Good day.”

“Are you here alone?”

“No, my family are with me.”

“Well now, perhaps we could have a bit of fun before you return to them.”

She tried to wrench her arm free, but the man had a fierce grip.

“Unhand me or I will scream.” Essie slipped her free hand into the bag she had just purchased and gripped a handful of the ground thyme inside. Dev had made her leave her pistol behind today.

“I just want to be friendly.” He moved closer. “Lovely lady like yourself must understand that.”

She threw the herb into his eyes, and he released her instantly. Staggering back, he started rubbing his face.

Essie turned and ran into a hard wall of muscle.

“Is he bothering you?”

She looked up at Max. His arm was around her, holding her close to his side.

“Yes... no, I took care of him.”

“With what?”

They both turned to look at the man, who was still howling and rubbing his eyes.

“He shouldn’t rub it, it will make it worse,” Essie said. “It’s only ground thyme, but it will be extremely irritating if he keeps doing that.”

“Excellent, then let’s hope he continues. But first, did he touch you?”

“No.”

“Tell me the truth, Essex.”

She saw the anger in his tawny eyes, and shook her head.

“Honestly, he didn’t.”

Whatever he saw in her expression appeased him slightly. Seconds later she was being dragged outside.

“Why did you leave your family?” He led her behind the tents, where several wagons stood, and then stopped.

“I wanted to see that man’s stall. The one selling things I could use to treat my patients.”

He looked skyward.

“This is not a place to walk off alone, Essex. There are pickpockets and muggers here. And as evidenced by what just happened to you, men who have overindulged and would see a lush creature like you and want to take advantage.”

“I-I am not a creature,” Essie said, when what she really thought was that Max saw her as lush.

“No, you’re a beautiful lady,” he said softly. “And that alone means you should not have gone off by yourself.”

“I can protect myself, and Eden would have heard me had I called.” The minute she finished the words, she realized what she had said. Dear Lord, only with this man could she lose her ability to hold her tongue.

“Why would Eden hear you?”

“I... ah, pardon?”

“You heard me.” He took her arms and pulled her closer as she attempted to back away. “Tell me what happened that day in Samantha’s bedroom, and why your sister has hearing better than any person I know. Tell me why your brother’s eyes can see what mine can’t, and their color sometimes changes, and his pupils almost fill his eyes.”

“No, Max, please, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Cam sniffs the air, almost like a dog catching a scent. And you,” he whispered. “You have an uncanny ability to heal a person. Plus, how is it you all know when you need each other, when danger is near or someone is hurting?”

Essie had gone cold inside.

“I am an observer, Essie. Living your life on the outskirts of everything and everyone makes you do that. Now tell me what I want to know.”

“No!” She wrenched free of his arms. “There is nothing to tell, and I will not let you hurt them with your lies.”

She ran then, as fast as she could back toward her family and away from Max. He caught her, grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Please, Essie, tell me you know that.”

She wanted to believe it, wanted to see him as a good man, but her fears keep her silent. It was then they both heard the screams.

“Dear Lord, what has happened?”

Taking her hand, Max towed her to a barrel, then leapt on top. He scanned the scene.

“The elephant is free and stampeding, we must leave!”

“No, my family!” Essie ran from him and tried to make her way through the terrified people.

“Left!” Max caught her around the waist and settled her behind him. He then started plowing through people.

“Essie!”

“Thank God.” She found herself surging forward with her family seconds later.

Warwick was on Cam’s shoulders, and he held Emily’s hand. Dorrie and Essie were clinging to Dev, with Lilly before him, and Samantha was on James’s back, with Eden before him. Toby was struggling to stay abreast as adults buffeted him. Max grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him onto his shoulders. He held out a hand to Essie and she gripped it hard.

They heard screams and the wild cry of the elephant as panic urged it on.

“Right!” Max roared. Taller than her brothers, he could see over heads. “Ahead, a fence. Get to the other side!”

Her lungs screamed but she held on to Max and did not let go. A scream behind her made Essie look, and she saw a woman fall, her head hitting the ground hard. Her hesitation was brief, but that second was enough for people to crash into her.

“Essie!”

Max felt her fingers slip from his, and he turned but did not see her. His heart pounded with fear as he tried to stop. Hands pressed to his back, forcing him forward; seconds later he reached the fence.

“Can you see her, Toby?” Max lifted the boy down.

“She’s beside a woman who has fallen, follow the same line and you will find her!”

He lowered the boy over the fence. “The others are up ahead, go to them now!” Max turned back into the fray.

Christ, let her be all right.

Fear gripped him, made his skin feel tight, and his body tense. She had to be all right. People crashed into him, but he felt nothing, intent only to reach Essie. His eyes swung from left to right.

“Move, you fool!”

He ignored everyone, and it was then he saw the elephant. It had changed course and was coming their way. Still some distance away, but definitely headed directly at Max. Desperate now, he waded through people. He felt her presence, then two men parted briefly and he found her on the ground. He had her in his arms seconds later.

“Thank God!” He lifted her high, turned, and ran. “Essie, talk to me!”

Her arms were around his neck, face pressed into his chest, but she said nothing. Reaching the fence, he found her brothers and handed her to Lord Sinclair. He climbed the fence and joined them.

“To the carriages,” Cambridge roared, running ahead.

Max wanted to take Essie back into his arms; instead, he followed. They found the little Sinclairs standing outside as they approached.

“Get her inside.” Max reached the carriage door and opened it. Lord Sinclair walked in with his sister in his arms, and he wanted to follow, but the duchess entered before him. Instead he had to stand in the doorway and watch on helplessly.

“Essie, talk to us, love.” Her brother lowered her to the seat.

She was pale, and dirt ran in streaks down her cheeks. Max imagined her hands desperately dashing away her tears as she struggled to regain her feet. He wanted to growl, he wanted to roar; God, he just wanted to hold her.

“Essie, you are frightening us!” He heard the fear in the duchess’s words.

“I-I am all right.” She struggled to rise, but her brother placed a hand on her chest, holding her down.

“Easy now. Tell us where it hurts?”

“I am fine, I promise.” Her voice was weak, and she winced as she struggled against her brother’s hand. She was doing what she always did, being the strong, stoic one. The sibling who tended others. Well, to hell with that.

“No, you are bloody not!”

All eyes turned to Max.

“For once tell the truth! Tell them you are hurting, tell them how you feel.” Rage was spiraling up inside him. Anger that he could not hold her, that he had not reached her before she was hurt, and at her insistence she was well. Something seemed to have snapped inside him. So he turned his anger on her siblings.

“She believes she is inferior to you all. Do you know that?”

“Now see here, Huntington—”

“Do you know that she does what she does because she believes herself unworthy of being a Sinclair sibling?” Max continued. “She never stops. Never gives a thought to herself, because she believes each of you is so much more than she could ever be!”

Shock etched the two faces.

“Did you know that after she tends very ill patients, her hands shake and she feels the fear she would not allow herself to feel while treating them? Fear that if she had not succeeded, they would have died.”

“Stop it, Max.” Her words were not loud, but he heard each clearly. They broke through his anger, and allowed reality to return. What the hell had he just done? He had no right to speak the way he had. No rights to Essex Sinclair.

“You should have known these things about her,” he rasped before stalking away.

Finding his horse in the chaos, he rode as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, yet it was not hard or fast enough, because all he could see was Essie, lying broken and hurt as he tried to reach her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Five days after the Bartholomew Fair, Essie rose early but did not leave her room, instead taking her breakfast on a tray. Her face was still bruised, and they marred her body, dark and angry, a reminder of what could have been.

She had never really been unwell in her life. Not seriously. She’d experienced pain, but not this type. It had been agony, and she was quite sure she had no wish to endure so much of it again at any time in her future.

Essie remembered falling, and then the feel of people stomping on her in their panic to flee. She had tried to get to her feet, but had not succeeded until Max found her. When his hands reached for her, she’d known it was him, and that she was safe. The absolute belief that he would look after her was startling, as until that moment she’d only ever felt that with her siblings. Essie remembered him holding her close, sheltering her with his body, and for those brief moments the fear had subsided.

“Lord, what a mess.” She sighed.

Her siblings had walked around her tentatively for five days, but she had read the questions in Dev’s, Eden’s, and Cam’s eyes. Max had told them things about her they had not known, and they wanted to ask her about his words. She could shake him for that. He’d had no right. Those were her thoughts to air should she wish it, not his.

Getting off the bed, Essie knew she could not stay in her room, or her brother’s house, forever, so she decided to wash and dress, and then visit with Eden. Her sister would not pepper her with questions if she asked her not to. Actually, she would, but Essie could ignore Eden. Her brothers were more determined.

Leaving her room, Essie made it down the stairs and to the front entrance.

“And where do you think you are going?”

Looking up, she saw Dev leaning over the bannister, glaring down at her.

“Out. I planned to see Eden and help her with the nursery.”

“You are not well enough.”

“I want to go, Dev.”

“I will accompany you then.”

“No, you will not.”

He started down the stairs, his long strides taking them two at a time. Seconds later he was before her. Even when she was angry with him she loved this man who had been the head of their family for so long. She could not fault him for his commitment to each of them, and they never doubted his love. Dev would lay down his life for any of his siblings.

“Do you know how much it hurts me to see you hurting?”

“I am hurting no more, Dev.”

He lifted her chin, looking at her bruises. “These hurt you, but it is the pain inside you that worries me, and that I didn’t see what Huntington, a stranger, did.”

“His words were not the truth, Dev.”

“Unfortunately, I fear they were.”

Lying wasn’t something Essie liked doing. Especially not to this man, when she owed him so much.

“Please, Dev. Can you not let this rest?”

“Why have you not told me how you felt? How could you believe yourself inferior to any of us, when the truth is so very different.”

She did not speak, could not speak. How did she tell the man who had been so strong all his life that she had felt weak?

“Come, let’s walk.”

Morning sun greeted them as they stepped outside and started along the street. He took her hand as he had when they were children, and swung her arm as they walked.

“I spoke with Eden and Cam last night, and we talked about you. Like me, they were shocked at Huntington’s words.”

“Dev—”

“Shocked because it is you who keeps this family strong. When you are not here, we flounder about, at a loss, Essie. You are our backbone, and it saddens me that we have never shown you how important, how special you are to us.”

They walked a few paces while Essie grappled with her brother’s words.

“I will not lie to you, Dev. I have felt inferior. You are such strong people. Vibrant and commanding, and I… well, I cannot even sit a horse.”

“Sitting a horse is easy. Taking out bullets and coming to the aid of young boys who have suffered unimaginable horrors, now that takes strength. Forgive us for not allowing you to see yourself as we always have, Essie.”

“Oh, Dev.” She hugged him right there on the street. “You and the others never made me feel that way. That was all my doing.”

“I still should have known. The problem was that you always seemed so calm and strong. We never saw the fears or insecurities.

“Come.” Dev released her, and took her hand again. “It is not bad enough that the other residents on this street think we are outrageous, we must add to their belief.”

Essie smiled for the first time since the fair. Her family thought she was strong. It was a wonderful feeling.

“Promise that you will talk with me in the future, Essie. Come to me, or one of the others, when you heal someone and are scared for what could have been. When your hands shake. Let us care for you.”

“I promise, and for the most it is wonderful, but there are times when I am scared that I cannot save or help someone.”

They walked in silence along the street, both deep in thought.

“There is something between you and Huntington, and I would like you to tell me when it started.”

And with those few words, her wonderful feeling fled.

“There is nothing between us,” she lied. “I was aware of him when he came to Oak’s Knoll, I will not deny that. He is a handsome, intriguing man, and at the time I thought him a wanderer with no possessions.”

“Well, you got that wrong.” Dev snorted. “But I know there is something between you, Essie. His behavior toward you is clear for anyone to see. Plus his concern, and the way he spoke after you were injured. That was not an uninterested man.”

“Let it alone now, Dev. Please.”

“You’re asking a great deal from me, Essie. I love you, as does Cam. We know how broken Tolly made you feel, and it hurt us all, Essie, to see you in pain.”

“I know, and I love you for it.” She patted his arm.

“Did he compromise you?”

“Dev!” She had not expected that. “How could you think that, when I have just told you there is nothing between us!”

“Well, did he?” The words were gritted out. “Because I will tear him apart if he did.”

“He had a bullet hole in his side, and I had Cam, Bertie, Josiah, and Grace to chaperone me. There is also the small matter of you believing your sister would be a trollop.”

Dear Lord, I was a trollop. But Essie would never regret that.

“I know men,” he gritted out. “They can be persuasive.”

“Were you persuasive before you married Lilly?”

“I can’t believe you just asked me that.” He shot her a harried look.

“You asked me.”

He swung her hand.

“That I did. I always forget how devilishly quick-witted you are.”

“Even after all these years, brother, how foolish of you to underestimate any of your sisters.” Essie saw the smile he was attempting to keep from his face.

“I love you, and hate that you may have been hurting and I did not know.”

“Oh, Dev, you cannot fix every hurt, but in this case there is nothing to fix, I promise you.” She felt bad lying to him, but it was for the best.

“And you are a prize, Essie. Never forget that.”

“Thank you, Dev.”

“For what?” He looked down at her.

“For being you. Fierce, loyal, and annoyingly protective. The very best big brother a sister could ever wish for.”

“You’re welcome, and I am not annoyingly protective.”

“No, you are. I can only imagine you will be worse when the twins come of age.”

He groaned loudly. “Please do not remind me of what is to come.”

They had reached Eden’s front door. Dev knocked.

“Now I’m here, I better see James. He has a map he wishes to show me. One only hopes he also has food.”

“He is a duke. Should he require food, he need only ask,” Essie assured her brother. Kissing his cheek, she left him to find his way to James, while she found her sister.

“Hello, sister dear.” Eden yawned loudly. Dressed in a loose day dress with her hair bundled on her head, she looked lovely. “I felt the baby last night.”

“Really!” Essie could not help the squeal of excitement. She hugged Eden close.

“Are you all right, Essie?”

She did not pretend to misunderstand. “Dev and I have just talked, and I feel better now, and I’m sorry you were hurt by Mr. Huntington’s words.”

“I knew some of what you were feeling, as we had that discussion in the carriage on the way to his warehouse, but not all. Forgive me for not realizing, sister.”

“There is nothing to forgive, because the problem was mine, not yours. As I told Dev, I alone created those feelings inside me.”

Eden gave her a steady look, but did not ask the questions that Essie knew she still harbored, and for that she was relieved. The morning had been trying enough already.

“Very well, but I hope in future you will come to me if you wish to discuss the matter further.”

“I will, I promise.”

“He would make you an excellent husband, sister.”

“Who?” Essie lowered her brows, trying to look confused.

Eden opened her mouth and then closed it again. She pulled out an earplug.

“Why is my husband roaring?”

“Dev is with him, are they arguing?”

“No.” Eden shook her head as she got to her feet. “I hear Mr. Spriggot’s voice.”

They ran to James’s study, and opening the door without knocking, they entered.

Essie had always loved this room. Lined with shelves that reached the ceiling, it had once been the only room in the duke’s house that had a soul. It had been here the Sinclair family had first told the duke of their heightened senses.

“Why are you yelling?”

James was standing behind his desk, and Mr. Spriggot, who was a private investigator, was seated across from him. Dev was prowling.

“Max Huntington is my brother!”

Essie felt her brother’s eyes on her as she stumbled to a seat and fell into it. This could not be happening, surely. She must be dreaming. Pinching her arm, she felt the small sting of pain. Apparently not.

“And both Essie and I saved him! God’s blood, will this bloody curse never end,” Dev roared.

“Curse?” Mr. Spriggot questioned.

“My brother is speaking of my husband’s family,” Eden added quickly. “It seems they keep popping up when we least expect them to.”

Mr. Spriggot nodded in understanding. “Yes, I understand how unsettling this must be for you all, especially considering Mr. Tolly and his relationship to the duke. After all, he was a brother, and his intentions were nefarious indeed.”

Essie forced a smile onto her face at the mention of the man she had once believed she loved. She knew better now.

“Come, Mr. Spriggot, I shall see you out.” Essie needed time to process what she had learned. Max is a Raven. How is that possible? She needed time to understand that yet another Sinclair had saved a Raven.

“No need, Miss Sinclair, I can see myself out.” After bowing, the man left. Essie sank back into a chair and tried to grapple with what she had just learned.

“How wonderful for you, darling.” Eden went around the desk to stand beside her husband. She wrapped an arm around his waist and held him. “And he is living so close, what could be better than that. You shall have plenty of time to become better acquainted.”

For two heartbeats no one spoke, everyone tense and waiting, and then the duke let out a bark of laughter. He stepped away from the desk and pulled his wife into his arms, holding her close. “God, woman, I love you.”

“I can’t believe we saved yet another Raven.” Dev sighed; his anger had slipped away. “Huntington, of all people.” He shot Essie another look.

“Imagine how I feel about that fact,” the duke rasped.

James had been through so much. The betrayal of his father, finding his sisters, and coming to the realization of just the man his father was. Now it seemed there was to be another chapter written to his life.

Max is a Raven. Dear Lord, is it really possible?

“I should have known something was off with him,” James said. “From the start he unsettled me... us.”

“We must tell him, my love. You both deserve this,” Eden said.

“I know. But I’m not sure he will be happy about the fact. Or that he now has another brother, and two sisters.”

Essie staggered to her feet. It was almost too much to take in. Max was to be in her life now, no matter how much she wished differently. She would have to return to Oak’s Knoll. Being forced to face him constantly was more than she could bear.

“Shall we speak with him now, James?” Eden said.

“James, are.... Does this make you happy?” Essie had to ask the question. She remembered when she first met him, he had been cold and hard. The walls he had built around himself to keep him emotionally safe had been impenetrable, but of course, Eden had managed to smash through them. Now she thought about it, Max was the same.

“Strangely, it does, but perhaps that is because I need to know those that my father hurt. Know them, and make recompense. Of course, in Max Huntington’s case, recompense is not necessary, but perhaps he will wish to get to know his new family, and if not….” James shrugged.

“We can be persistent, darling,” Eden said, kissing his cheek.

“Well then, let us go and see how he feels about the fact he has acquired more family in his life.”

Not more, Essie thought. Some. Max had always been alone. Now he was not. She hoped he was pleased about that fact, but had a feeling he would not be.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Max woke late because again he had not slept. Only, last night’s dream had not been pleasant like so many of the others involving Essex Sinclair. This one had featured a large rampaging beast that was determined to crush Essie under its feet. She had been begging Max to save her, but he could not reach her. He’d woken drenched in sweat.

“Good Lord, you look like hell.”

“I usually start the day with good morning,” Max growled at Edward as he lowered himself into a seat in his breakfast parlor.

“Good morning, what happened?”

“I slept badly, end of story.”

“If I may suggest a warmed brandy in milk, and if that does not work, then a woman.”

“My mood is not what I would term sunny this day, Edward, so bait me at your peril.”

“I shall discuss business then.”

“Good idea.”

And they did, for an hour, and after his second cup of coffee Max started to feel more like himself, whoever the hell that may be.

“Start the process for buying the Melton mill first, Edward.”

“Of course, I shall get on it today.” Edward got to his feet.

“The Duke and Duchess of Raven have called, Mr. Huntington, and request a meeting with you.”

“Well now, that is a surprise,” Edward said. “I shall leave you to your illustrious company. Send word if you need me.”

“I will, and thank you.”

Max got out of his chair. He could honestly find no reason for the duke and duchess to visit him.

“Where in this monstrosity have you put them, George?”

“The front salon again, Mr. Huntington.”

He grunted something and followed his butler up the stairs.

“Mr. Huntington,” George said after opening the door to the salon, “I shall bring a tray.”

Did they need a tray? Looking at the solemn faces of the duke and duchess, he hoped like hell it had something stronger than tea on it, even if the sun had not risen high in the sky as yet. He had a sudden feeling of impending doom.

“Please take a seat.” He waved them into chairs.

“Thank you,” the duchess said. Her husband said nothing.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Max decided to get to the point. He was not one for polite chat.

“Mr. Spriggot has just apprised me of some news that I have been awaiting for some time, Max. I came to share it with you.”

Max frowned. The duke had called him by his first name, when he could not remember him doing so before.

“Mr. Spriggot came to you with news for me?”

“Not exactly.” The duke got to his feet, and Max could see he was agitated.

“I have employed Mr. Spriggot to look into a matter for me, your Grace. I am not sure why he would discuss that matter with you?”

“He did not. And there is no easy or gentle way to say this, so I will simply do so.”

Max wasn’t sure why he felt tense, but he was, his muscles clenched in anticipation.

“My father sired many children, Max. And I have been looking for them since I knew.”

“No!” The whisper was torn from Max.

“Yes, you are my brother.”

He’d had moments in his life before when shock had robbed him of speech and caused his body to shake. The night he’d learned his mother had apprenticed him on a ship at a young age had been one. When he’d received his first beating, one night later, had been another.

“Max?”

He looked up as Eden approached.

“Can I call you Max?”

He nodded, numb. Disbelieving over what he had learned.

“This is a shock for you, as it was for James.”

“I-it is,” he admitted. Over her shoulder, he looked at the duke... dear God, his brother.

“We are not a comfortable family, it is fair to say, Max. But a wonderful one to be part of. We are very happy to have you join us.”

“I-I’m not sure that I can do that. I’ve been alone for so long, and—”

“I understand this news is overwhelming, and that is to be expected, Max. And now I am going to leave you alone with your brother, and there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What?” Her eyes held his, and he saw so much compassion in the gray depths he had to swallow quickly, as his throat felt tight.

“Your brother is the very best of men.”

She rose then, and kissed his cheek before going to her husband to do the same. Max watched the duke’s eyes close briefly as he mouthed the words I love you to his wife, and then she left, closing the door softly behind her.

He’d heard the term deafening silence, but never really understood it until that moment. He had a duke for a brother. Max could not take it in.

“You also have two sisters, and I suspect I have another brother and sister somewhere out in the world.”

“Are you sure about this?” His words were urgent as Max looked at the man now standing before him.

“Very.”

“Christ.”

“My words were more colorful, but yes, it is a shock. It seems your mother worked for my father at Raven Castle for many years. After you were born, he moved you both into a house an hour away, and then proceeded to visit her often. When you were young, he withdrew his support, and your mother took you to France.”

“Your sisters—”

“Samantha was born to my father’s second wife. Emily was born out of wedlock to another mistress. My father treated her unfairly, and she died, as did Emily’s brother. There is a great deal more to that story, however, I think that is for another day.”

“And yet you claim Emily as your own. She lives in your house.”

“She is my sister, and I love her. I would never turn her away because the circumstances of her birth differ from mine.”

He meant it, Max realized. Every word the duke spoke was true.

“As I will never turn from you now I know you are my brother. No matter how you feel about me.”

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Max rasped. “How could I? For years I believed.... God, I don’t know what I believed.”

“I understand.” The duke’s words were solemn.

“No. You cannot understand.” Max’s head was pounding and he could feel his control slipping. “I have been beaten, whipped, and those are just a few of the things I experienced. How the hell can you expect to understand?”

“I may be a duke, but my life has not been as you would expect either. My birthright did not ensure I lived a cosseted life.”

Max snorted. “Your sister said something about that. But your worst days would be my best, your Grace,” Max said. He felt odd, his body suddenly cold. Shock, he realized, it had to be shock.

“I am not here to trade insults with you, Max. This news has been a shock, and if I stay we will end up arguing. Therefore, I shall leave you alone, but understand one thing. I am now, and always will be, your brother from this day forth. Whether you wish it or not.”

Max heard the door close once more. Suddenly he needed air. Need to be outside and feel the sun on his face. Walking out the door, he found George.

“Hat now!”

His butler made it down the stairs before him and handed him his hat. Max slapped it on his head and walked out the front door. He threw a dark look at the house that he now knew housed his brother, as he started down the road to the park.

Essie sat on the blanket as her three siblings ran about the place chasing the kite Warwick flew. She had walked home with Dev, both silent as they processed the information that Max was James’s brother. She had then gathered up Dorrie, Somer, and Warwick, and made for the park with her maid.

Max is a Raven.

There had been something about him from the very start, but she had not known what that something was until now. Their connection dated back many years, it seemed, whether they wished it or not.

Something made her look to the left, a sensation that she could not ignore, and there he was. Max, walking with his head down, deep in thought. He now knew he was James’s brother, and part of her ached for the turmoil that must be inside him. He did not look up until he was nearly upon her, and then he stopped, his eyes focused on her. So much emotion blazed from the tawny depths.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he replied, but still he had not moved. “How do you feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Your face—”

“I’m all right, Max.”

“Max!” Somer’s shriek drew their eyes as the little girl came barreling forward with her siblings on her heels.

“Hello, Miss Somerset.”

She giggled. “Silly, I am just Somer to you.”

“Hello, Somer then. And Dorrie and Warwick.”

He had received a shock this morning that had very likely rocked the foundations of what he had always believed his life to be, and yet he still took the time to be nice to her siblings.

This, Essie knew, was a good man.

“Will you sit with Essie so we can show you what excellent kite flyers we all are?”

“And so humble also.”

Somer poked her tongue out at Essie, then ran away squealing loudly.

“I’m sure that sound could break glass.” She winced. “Would you care to sit, Mr. Huntington?”

He hesitated.

“I know, Max.”

He exhaled loudly, the sound deflating him. His shoulders slumped, and suddenly she saw vulnerability. The man she’d believed indomitable was now not. He had no doubt seen and experienced more than she could ever imagine, but this... the knowledge that James was his brother, had, simply put, shaken his foundations.

“I-I…. It is almost more than I can take in.”

His hands were thrust into his pockets, his eyes on her siblings, who were now all squealing and running about the place with not a care in the world. They were safe in the knowledge they were loved by many, and their futures, for now, secure. Fate would play a hand, but as yet, none of them knew in what way.

“Max, sit.” Essie got to her knees and touched his hand. He jerked back at her touch, as if she repelled him... and yet the tortured look he settled on her told her differently.

“I-I need to walk,” he said. “I do not want to stay here and hurt you again.”

“How will you hurt me again, if we are just talking?”

He did not reply. Instead, he bowed deeply and walked away, body rigid, heart in turmoil, and Essie could do nothing for him.

She sat with her siblings until they tired, and only then did she gather everything and head for home. It was as she drew closer to Max’s house that a thought entered her head.

“Take the children home, Grace. I will gather a few herbs from Mr. Huntington’s garden while he is out, and return shortly.”

“Can we not come with you, Essie?”

“No, I will visit Eden after, and we will return home to take tea with you. Go on now, as it is time for your lessons.”

They grumbled, but did as she asked, leaving her alone on the road in front of Max’s house. He had gone out, and she had not seen him return. Now was the time to gather the herbs she wanted to make Silver more tonic for his headaches.

She knocked, and smiled at the butler as he opened the door.

“Good day, I am Miss Sinclair. Mr. Huntington told me I could visit his conservatory when required and collect some herbs. Is this a good time?”

“I’m afraid he’s from home at the moment, Miss Sinclair.”

“Yes, I know, I saw him as he left, and he told me to come gather what I required.”

Essie kept smiling as the butler’s eyes passed over her bruises.

“Of course. If you will follow me, I will take you through.”

“I know the way,” Essie said. “Please don’t bother yourself.”

She hurried through the house and down the stairs. Entering the conservatory, she inhaled, feeling instantly calmer surrounded by nature... but not just any nature, the things she loved.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Max had walked and walked, and felt no calmer. His brother was a duke. He could still not take it in. Entering his house, he found George hovering in the entrance.

“Good afternoon, George, my apologies for my curt behavior earlier.”

“No apology is necessary, Mr. Huntington.”

He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to his butler. He was always felt calmer in his shirtsleeves.

“Tell me you have not been standing here since my departure?”

“No indeed, but I wanted to advise you that Miss Sinclair is in the conservatory. She said you had given your permission for her to visit there when she wished.”

Essie was here, inside his house. Suddenly his head felt clearer, and he wanted to see her with a desperation that took his breath away.

“Just Miss Sinclair, George?”

His butler nodded.

“Excellent. See that no one disturbs us, please. Miss Essex and I have some procedures to discuss for the boys.”

It was true, Max convinced himself as he walked rapidly to the stairs. Whatever Essie had given Silver had eased his headaches, and Peter was much better, and his breathing seemed calmer. In fact, Max had wondered if Essie would consider running a clinic from his warehouse while she was in London. This was a great time to discuss it. The fact that his life had just turned on its head did not matter. What mattered was that she was here, alone, in his house.

Max ran down the stairs so fast he tripped on the last, and only just managed to stop himself falling on his face.

When he’d seen her at the park, the need to take her in his arms had consumed him... she consumed him. He’d seen her bruises and wanted to kiss each one. How could one woman have created so much havoc inside him? He had just found out he was the bastard son of a duke, and right here and now, that took second place to the woman he knew was on the other side of that door.

Clenching the handle, he turned it, and walked inside the conservatory. Sun showered through the glass, creating shadows and burnishing plants. Looking around, he could not see Essie, but he could hear her. She was humming. Soft and off-key, it made him smile. Walking down the first row, he looked for her in the foliage, but when that failed he headed up the second row, and then down the third. He found her on her knees grubbing about in the dirt.

Why did he feel suddenly like smiling when his life was in turmoil? He had no rights to this woman, she could never be his, but he wanted her with everything inside him. Ached for her.

“Essie.” Her name came out as a plea.

She turned, eyes wide. “Max.” He watched her lips whisper his name. “I’m sorry, I had thought to be gone before you returned, I—”

“No.” He reached her in two strides. “I don’t want you to go.” He lifted her to her feet and settled her before him, close enough that he could smell her. Herbs, perfume, and Essie, the woman who intoxicated him.

“Max, are you all right?”

His hands held her hips, and slowly he pulled her closer until her breasts touched his chest, until he could see that her breathing was suddenly as rapid as his.

“Essie.” He cupped her bruised cheek gently. “I can’t stay away from you.”

She closed her eyes, and he leaned in to kiss the damaged skin on her face. “I feared for you that day,” he whispered. “When your hand slipped from mine, I have never known such terror.”

“For me also.”

Max saw the truth in her eyes. Closing his briefly, he gave up the fight. When he opened them, he took her lips in a deep kiss. Where he had touched her face with reverence, this was fierce. The need inside him demanded it, no matter that she was a lady, a sweet, gentle lady.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips. “You are hurting, I had no right—”

“No.” Her hands were in his hair, and he felt a tug of pain as she pulled. “Don’t be gentle, I won’t break. I need this.” She rose to her toes and kissed him. “Have ached for this since that night at Oak’s Knoll.”

He kissed her again, drugging kisses that had no end or beginning. His hand moved down her back, tracing the knuckles of her spine to the lovely curves beneath. He cupped the swells, caressing and mapping the woman who had driven him insensible with need since that night he had taken her innocence.

“Essie.” He breathed her name into the sweet skin of her neck. She arched, and he took what she offered. He unbuttoned her spencer and pushed it from her shoulders.

“Every time I got close enough to breathe in your scent, I was reminded of that night we made love. I smelled your gardens on you, the heat of your skin, the taste of nature. You intoxicated me.”

She moaned as he kissed the tops of her breasts above her bodice. How could something so right, be wrong, Max reasoned as he searched for the buttons of her dress. Finding them marching down her spine, he released them, and then kissed each exposed piece of skin as he eased the garment from her body.

“I-I tried to push this aside, tried to forget what you made me feel, Max.”

Max gripped the edges of her chemise and lifted it up her body and over her head.

“But like me, you couldn’t.” He cupped her cheeks, looking deep into her lovely eyes. “And every time we saw each other, the tension grew.”

“Yes.”

He let his eyes trail over every lush inch of her, stopping when he saw the bruises.

“I’m sorry I could not have stopped this happening.”

“I am well, Max. Nothing is broken, the bruises will fade.” She cupped his cheek and he felt himself leaning into her hand.

“Seeing you in pain was almost more than I could bear, Essie.”

“But the pain was less, because you rescued me, as I knew you would.”

He lost himself in her eyes. “You knew I would come for you?”

“Oh yes, that I never doubted.”

He kissed her, and it was steeped with emotion. Emotion so foreign to him he struggled to identify it. Her hands worked his buttons free, and then she was pushing his shirt from his shoulders. He tried to stop her; knew in what was left of his resistance that he had to try.

“Your back is part of you and what you endured to become the man who stands before me today, Max. When I look at it, I see survival and strength. I hate that you suffered at the hands of some monster, but it does not change the way I feel about you. The way my heart beats harder when you are near, or how I find myself smiling when I think of what we have shared.”

“I-I don’t like people to see it.” He felt vulnerable suddenly, as if she had stripped away his defenses and exposed emotions he had believed himself incapable of feeling.

She moved around him. “Let me touch you, Max.”

He tensed as her lips touched his abused skin. He was sensitive there; each brush of her lips made him shudder, each soft touch of her fingers had the breath hissing from his lips.

“Essie.”

“It’s all right, Max.” She reached around him and rested a hand on his heart. The gesture shocked him because it felt so right.

She kissed every inch of his tortured skin. Explored every welt until he no longer felt horror at what she saw, but was consumed with hunger for this woman. His body was aroused to the point of pain. Lust pumped through him.

“I cannot wait.” His words were ragged.

“Then don’t.”

Essie was on fire, her body ignited by the man who held her. When he swung her up and into his arms, she wrapped hers around his neck and pressed kisses to his shoulders. She would not think of after, or even before. This was for now, for her and Max and the need that burned inside them.

She yelped as he lowered her onto the stone ledge. “It’s cold.”

He swallowed her words with another savage kiss, and then her breasts were in his hands, his thumbs strumming her nipples until her thoughts once again centered only on him. She slipped her fingers into his hair and held on as he drew a nipple deep into his mouth.

“Lord, Max,” she moaned at the wonderful sensations.

He kissed each breast, tortured each nipple until she was panting. Only then did he moved lower and kiss the dew-drenched petals between her thighs. She felt the pressure inside her build until she was begging him for release. He rose and unbuttoned his trousers. She shivered in anticipation as he stepped between her thighs. Slowly he eased inside her, stretching the silken tissues until he filled her completely.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and saw the fire blazing in the tawny depths. Fire that she had lit.

“I have never felt this way before,” he whispered. “Never needed someone as I do you.”

Her lashes fluttered as he withdrew and thrust back inside.

“See what I feel for you, Essie.”

“I see it.”

He shuddered as she wrapped her legs around him, holding him deep inside her.

“I feel it too, Max. I have tried to fight it, but it consumes me.” She touched his lips, let him take a finger into his mouth as he started to move his hips in and out of her. “I love you,” she breathed, arching into him. The words ignited him as he drove into her again and again.

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I love you!” she cried as she reached the pinnacle. Seconds later he joined her. They crested together as she held him close, both shuddering with the power of their release.

Breathless, Essie rested her head on his shoulder, and he hers. They sucked in mouthfuls of air until finally they calmed. Only then did he lift her back into his arms and move to the bench seat, where he lowered her onto his lap.

“I have never been loved before.”

Her heart ached at the words.

“Will you accept it from me?” Essie looked at him, tried to read his thoughts.

“I will, if you will accept mine in return.”

“Oh, Max, how could I not.” She smiled up at him and wondered if there had ever before been a time in her life when she felt complete, as if all the pieces of her life had finally fallen in place.

“I was apprenticed on a ship at ten. The captain was a violent man. He beat me the very first night, and many thereafter.”

“You must have been so scared.” Essie rested her hand on his heart as she felt the sting of anger. “I hope this man has paid for his actions in many different ways.” He had been so young to have his innocence ripped away.

Her words surprised a snort from him.

“What?”

“I thought you would weep for me, but I much prefer your anger, my sweet.”

“I don’t weep a great deal, unless it can’t be helped.”

He touched her lips, tracing each with a finger and his eyes.

“He thought to break me, but I would not be broken.”

“I have heard of men like this... men who would hurt boys.”

“No, love, he did not do that to me, and he told me the reason was because I was ugly. So my face saved me. But he did that to other boys, and I could do nothing to stop him until I was older and stronger.”

“Tell me you hurt him as he did you and the other boys. Tell me you made him pay, Max.”

“Bloodthirsty wench, aren’t you?” He kissed her again.

“Tell me what you did to him when you were stronger?” Essie urged him.

“I saw him drag Edward into his cabin, and unlike me, Edward was a small, weak boy with a pretty face. He was an easy target for such a man. So I broke his door down and fought him. I then dragged him up on deck and threw him overboard in front of the crew. We were miles from land, and I knew he would be eaten by sharks or drowned.”

“A fitting end, then.”

“I thought so, but now I wonder if it is not he who is attempting to kill me.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Max looked down at the woman in his arms. He saw only anger on his behalf, no pity. She looked tousled and thoroughly loved. Loved by him. He tested the words and found he liked them. She was his now, and he was never letting her go.

“What is this man’s name?”

“Captain Rutley, and I have told Mr. Spriggot to locate him, so if he is alive, he will find him. I’m sure of that.”

She nodded, and a long curl fell over her bare breasts. Max picked it up and tested the texture, running the strand between his fingers.

“He was very good at tracking down Mr. Tolly.”

“Miss Tolly’s brother?”

“Yes, the man I once believed I loved.”

“Tell me what happened?”

She did, and he hated that another had held her heart, even briefly.

“So your sister nearly died, but you and your family saved her, as you did Samantha?”

She looked away, but Max wasn’t having that, and pushed her chin up so their eyes met.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“I’m scared to tell you,” she whispered.

“Nothing you can tell me will make me feel any differently about you, Essex. Surely you know that now. Surely you know I love you.”

“The secret is not just mine to tell you, Max.”

“It is a family secret?”

She nodded. “I-I need to ask permission to tell you.”

“Very well. Tomorrow I will call on your brother and ask for your hand in marriage, and I would like you to tell me then.”

“Shouldn’t you ask me before my brother?”

He looked down at her, this woman who entranced him. “Will you marry me, my love? Will you teach me about this love I feel for you? Teach me how to share my life with another?”

“Yes, oh, Max. Yes, I will marry you.”

“Excellent, then I shall call on your brother tomorrow and then we shall talk, you and I.”

“Max—”

He touched her lips with a finger. “I love you, never forget that. Whatever this is, it will not change that.”

She nodded, and he lost himself in her lips and body once more.

“Tomorrow, my love. I will call, and then we will talk.”

“You could come with me now. Dev will likely be home.”

“No, I want to plan some things. I need to have everything in order when I call.”

She nodded.

“I love you, Max.”

“I have no right to love you, or expect you to spend your life with me, but I do... and we will.” He whispered the words against her lips. “You are now mine, as I am yours.”

“Yes.”

They dressed, and then he walked her to his front door.

“George!”

“Why are you calling your butler?”

“He will walk you home, as if I did, your brothers would have questions, and I am not ready to speak with them until tomorrow.”

“But I can walk on my own.”

“But you will not. I will not be an easy husband, love, but I will be a constant one. Never doubt my love for you.”

Her smile was blinding.

“My brothers are not easy men, so you shall not present too much of a challenge.” She then gave him a cheeky smile and stepped outside. He stood and watched her until she reached her house. Only then did he go inside, with a ridiculously wide smile on his face.

Max retired early that night, eager to rise and go to Essie. He was not sure how he would be received by her brother, but he supposed at least now he had a duke on his side, and yes, in his lineage. A bastard, yes, but a noble one. He could still not take the news in.

Lying in the dark, he let thoughts come and go of the future that now seemed suddenly bright.

He woke to darkness, and the feel of a blade pressed to his throat.

“Hello, Max.”

The guttural words could be from no other man.

“Rutley.”

Max sat up as the pressure on his throat eased.

“You’ve done well for yourself, boy. It seemed everything I taught you, you have benefitted from.”

“You taught me nothing.” Max controlled the anger inside him. The childhood fear was there too, but he was a man now, and this beast could no longer hurt him.

Behind Rutley, two men stepped forward. One held a candle, the other a pistol.

“Hand him the paper and ink.”

“It’s really not the time for letter writing, Rutley. If you are struggling, may I suggest another person could help you.”

He took a moment, but eventually the insult was understood.

“I can read and write, you bastard!”

“Indeed I am, and not just any bastard, but the son of a duke, it seems.”

“So you found that out, did you? I wondered how long it would take you.” Rutley had lost what little hair he had, and several more teeth. He looked old and pathetic. Max wondered how he had allowed fear of the man to reign over him for so long.

“I wrote to him that I had his bastard son, and if he wanted to see you again, he’d better pay. The duke never replied.”

“And that was why you tormented me. Because I was the son of a duke,” Max realized.

“You were a sniveling rodent, and deserved a heavy hand. A whelp, raised at your mother’s side!”

“Hardly that,” Max said. “My mother loathed the sight of me, which is why she sold me to you.”

Rutley stepped forward, waving the blade in front of Max’s face. “Yes, she told me that when I bedded her for your fare on my boat.”

“So it was she who told you I was the duke’s son?” He was sure that should have hurt him more, but as he cared little for his mother, it did not.

“And now I’m making you pay for what you did to me!” Rutley hissed.

Max yawned. “I do not fear death, so have done with it.” But he did fear it now, desperately. He had Essie and a future for the first time in his life. A future he wanted with every part of his being.

“I want some money. Where is it kept?”

Max pointed to a desk in the corner of his room. “There is plenty in there. Take it and leave before I kill you… again.”

“Not this time,” Rutley said. “Now write down what I tell you.”

“I think not.” Max rested his hands behind his head, but tensed as a cunning look came into Rutley’s eyes.

“Write what I tell you or, I will go through this house and gut every servant in the place.”

Tamping down his rage, he did as he was asked.

“Time for a sleep.”

He fought the hands that pressed the cloth to his face, but there were too many. His last thoughts were for the woman he loved.

“How is Bids family, Essie?”

“Mother and baby are doing well,” Essie said in answer to Dev’s question. The toast she was nibbling on tasted like ashes in her mouth. “The father, however, is still a little shaky.”

Last night Essie had delivered Bids baby boy, and while the moment had been joyful, as it always was, she had found little joy in anything since.

Two days had passed, and still Max had not called. Essie tried not to let her family see that her heart was breaking. Tried to smile and converse when required, but inside she was crumbling all over again, only this time it was worse, and far more painful than the last.

In desperation, she had called upon Max early this morning to ensure he was not sick. His butler had simply said that Mr. Huntington had left town for an extended visit to a property he owned, and he was unsure when he would return. When Essie had questioned as to where, the butler had said he did not know.

And that, she had realized, told her exactly how he felt about her. His declarations of love and intention to speak to Dev had been empty lies, and now she was left to pick up the shattered pieces of her heart once again. She had been a fool for the second time over that man.

But he seemed so sincere, a voice inside her head cried. Was she such a fool to believe he really did care? Had the magic they shared in his conservatory meant nothing? Was he so good at his lies that she had fallen again for a man who could not love her in return?

I love you, never forget that. Surely there was a reason he had not called? Surely he would return and tell her why he had left without word? Please, come back to me.

“What is wrong with you?”

Cam thumped the breakfast table with his fist, and the three Sinclairs present all jumped out of their seats.

“Wh-what did you do that for?” Essie pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart was thumping hard.

“For two days you have had a brittle smile on your face, and answered everything directed at you with a polite sweetness that is making my teeth hurt.”

“Cam, we discussed this, and decided we would wait for her to tell us,” Dev said softly.

“Yes, because we need to respect her wishes.” Cam waved a hand at his brother. “To hell with that. I no longer wish to wait. She is hurting again.” Cam’s anger faded away on the last word. “I cannot stand to see it.”

“There is nothing wrong. For heaven’s sake, Cam, stop being dramatic.”

He stared at her hard, as did Dev, and it took all her willpower not to look away.

“You color is lighter,” her eldest brother said. “Weaker, as if you are suffering in some way.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She tried appear confused.

“Can you not tell us what has upset you, Essie?” Lilly got out of her seat and came to wrap an arm around her. “Please, dear. Tell us what is wrong.”

She felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes but refused to let them fall. Never again would she cry because a man did not love her.

“I will return in time for the births, but I want to go to Oak’s Knoll, now, today.” Desperation had her rising from the table. Now she had made up her mind, she wanted to leave London at once.

“Will you not tell us what has happened?” Dev’s concern was written all over his face. “Who has hurt you?”

Essie shook her head.

“I cannot let you leave London in this condition, Essex, and you cannot ask that of me.”

“It’s Huntington, I know it is!” Cam hissed, getting to his feet. “I’m going to confront him, and I don’t care if he is James’s brother!”

“No, Cam!” Essie cried, but he had stormed from the room before she could do so.

“He is not there. Dev, you must go after him.”

“How do you know he is not there?”

“I-I paid him a call this morning, to get some herbs.”

Essie held her breath as Dev looked at her. He then shook his head, and walked from the room, leaving her to exhale... loudly.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Do you know, Essie, I am usually an astute judge of character, and I’m of the opinion that Max Huntington is a good man. I even would go so far as saying he would rather hurt himself than you.”

Lilly had taken the seat beside hers. One of her gloved hands touched Essie’s arm.

“Now that your silly brothers have gone, we can talk, just the two of us. Come now, tell me what is going on inside you, please.”

“He said he loved me, Lilly.” Essie could hold back no longer. It felt good to say the words after holding them inside for two days. Lilly would not judge her, nor would she track down Max and beat him senseless, as her brothers would.

“Then he does, Essie.”

“But he promised to come here and speak with Dev two days ago, and yet did not. And when I went to his house this morning, I was told by his butler that he had left word he was leaving town, and did not know when he would return.”

Lilly made a humming sound. “You of all people know that what we see or hear is not always the truth, Essie.”

Essie thought about Max. About the moments in his conservatory when he had made love to her, when they had shared what they held in their hearts, and the secrets he had kept inside him for so long. His words were the truth.

“Dear Lord, Lilly,” Essie said as she realized how wrong she had been to doubt him. “I have allowed my fear to cloud my thoughts. I was so afraid he had turned from me, deceived me as Tolly did, that I did not allow myself to see that he would never do that. Not Max.”

“Max is not Tolly, is he, Essie?”

“No!” She surged to her feet. “He would not hurt me, Lilly. He loves me.”

“Yes he does, so what do you wish to do about that?”

“We need to go to Max’s house, Lilly. Will you accompany me, and help me convince my brothers not to murder the man I love... when we locate him, that is?”

Her sister-in-law smiled.

“Of course I will. Do you think I would miss this?”

When they arrived at Max’s house, it was to find her brothers, James, and another man, whom Essie recognized as one of Max’s employees, Edward.

“I tell you he would not simply have left without telling me,” Edward was saying, and his tone told Essie he was worried about his employer.

“So you have said, but as my sister is upset, and I hold Huntington responsible—”

“No!” Essie stepped up behind her brothers. “Max is not responsible for my pain. He loves me, as I love him, and he would not have left if he had not been forced to.”

She wasn’t sure why she believed this now, but she did... vehemently. Max loved her.

“You love him?” Dev looked horrified. “You don’t know this man, Essex.”

“I do know him, and he would not have willingly left London and me. He was to come to speak with you just two days ago and ask for my hand in marriage.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dev glared at her.

“I love him, and we are to marry.”

“You don’t even know him!” Cam roared. “His past could be littered with brutal acts and fiendish endeavors—”

“It’s not. He has told me some of it, and I care nothing for that, only him.” Essie knew she was right. Knew that Max was a good man.

“When have you spent time together to come to this conclusion?” Dev’s words were a low growl. “If he touched you, he is a dead man.”

“That’s my brother you speak of, Sinclair. Have a care.”

Her brothers spun to face James as he entered the fray.

“You know nothing of him, and yet you will stand at his back?” Cam looked horrified.

“He is a good man, Cam, and you said so yourself. He saved my sister, and rescues boys being mistreated on ships. He runs a house for them, for heaven’s sake. Don’t jump to conclusions simply because you believe he has hurt Essie. Especially when she has declared otherwise.”

Cam and Dev exhaled in unison.

“Hello, family, have I missed the fun?” Eden arrived.

“You no doubt heard it all, my love.” James took her hand in his. “But in short, I am attempting to stop your brothers from beating mine to a pulp when we locate him.”

“I did hear it all, and have to say I side with James and Essie in this. Max is a good man. Anyone who treats our little ones with the respect and kindness he does, could not have hurt Essie, or left her after declaring his love.”

“Essie does not know her mind!” Dev snapped. “She has been hurt before, and was lured by Huntington.”

“That will do, husband,” Lilly said calmly. “You sister is no simpleton. She knows her own mind. And Max is not Tolly.”

“Exactly, thank you, Lilly. Now stop behaving like a caveman, and let us work out where the man I love has gone!” Essie snapped.

“If I may interject?”

Essie had forgotten Edward was still standing in the doorway to Max’s house, overhearing the entire discussion.

“What?” Dev rounded on him, forcing Edward to take a step back.

“I would like to say something.”

Essie grabbed her brothers’ arms and forced them to retreat and give the man some room.

“Let him speak.”

Edward cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

“Well, speak!” Cam demanded.

“Pay them no mind.” James stepped forward and held out his hand to Edward. “I am the Duke of Raven, and Mr. Huntington is my brother.”

“Ah… Max is your brother, your Grace?”

James smiled. “Indeed he is, and I find I like the idea hugely.”

Edward stuttered out his name as he bowed and then took the hand.

“My name is James, Edward. If I may call you that?”

Edward nodded.

“Please ignore the two Neanderthals at my back and tell me what you wish to say?”

“Max would not leave London without telling me first. He would also not leave Miss Sinclair, if he has vowed to wed her. He is the most honest, loyal man I know.”

“In what capacity do you work for him, Edward?”

“I am his steward, but we are friends. You see, it was Max that saved me when we were crew on a ship. The captain would have killed me, but Max intervened. He then threw the man overboard, and we believed he would drown.”

“Surely that is not the act of a rational man?” Cam exploded.

“Captain Rutley had been whipping and beating his crew and most especially his cabin boys for years... among other things. He deserved his fate and a great deal worse,” Edward said softly.

“Dear God, was it he who did that to Huntington?”

“It was, Cam,” Essie said. “Max told me about it.”

“Christ.” Cam lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Edward, I had no right to judge him in light of what I have learned.”

Edward pulled a letter from his pocket and held it out to James.

“It is written in Max’s handwriting, but signed from M.C.R. Huntington. Max would never sign anything but Max in a missive to staff or me. It is his way, and always has been. He will not stand on ceremony with those who he believes are his equals.”

“C. R. Do you believe he was trying to tell you something?” James said, and Essie prayed he was. Prayed it would lead them to Max, because the panic inside her was growing.

“I do. I believe that he was taken by Captain Rutley.”

“And you believe he has had him for two days?” Dev questioned in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Yes.”

“We will help you look for him. That will be the only way we can ascertain whether you are right, and whether he has mistreated my sister. But if he has, even his lofty brother will not be able to save him.”

Max had lost count of how long he had been chained to the wooden pile. His hands were bound around the wood, and his feet shackled together. High tides had reached his neck, and he’d managed to stay upright, but he feared his strength was waning, and the next one would drown him because his legs were threatening to give out. Cold had seeped into his bones, and shivers wracked his body. His eyes kept closing. In short, he was running out of time.

He’d yelled so much his voice was hoarse, and still no one came. Only Rutley, every few hours to look down on him and laugh.

“Essie,” he whispered. He focused on the vision of her in his arms that night in his conservatory.

“I love you, Max.”

Did she believe he had deserted her? Did she believe he had run from her love? Surely she knew he would not do that. But then, someone had hurt her before; why would she believe his words now, so many days after he had promised to call on her brother? His disappearance would be seen as a sign of his perfidy in her eyes.

Thirst clawed at his throat, hunger gnawed at his insides, but still he felt hope. He could not have found his first and only love just to have his life snuffed out, not now.

“Help me!” He roared the words with the last of his strength. “Dear God, help me, please,” he whispered, slumping against the wood.

The aches in his body were nothing compared to the pain in his heart. He felt the muscles in his legs quiver, and then suddenly they gave out, and he was sliding down the pole and into the water below. It enveloped him as he struggled to keep his head above.

“Essie,” Max whispered.

“It came from over there, I tell you.”

Max heard the words, and struggled to speak. “Help.” It was a pitiful rasp.

“Over there!”

The sound of running feet made him fight to stay upright. Looking up, he searched the wharf above.

“Help!” he managed again, and seconds later he was rewarded with a face appearing, and then several more. He tried to focus, but could not make out the features.

“Down here,” he rasped.

“Christ!”

“Max!”

It couldn’t be. “Essie!” Please God, let him not be dreaming.

“Hold on, Max, we’re coming!”

He struggled to his feet, using his arms to work his way back up the pole. Essie was here. Dear God, he was weeping like a babe.

He saw a pair of legs dangling over the platform above him, and then they were followed by a body, and he saw it was the duke, his brother, being lowered into the water.

“It’s all right now, Max, I have you.”

A jacket was lowered around his shoulders, and the warmth was bliss.

“Drink this. Just a sip.”

Max allowed James to drizzle some brandy into his mouth, and it burned down his throat, but the warmth was bliss.

“Shackles,” Max whispered. “Keys.”

“We will get you out, no matter what it takes.”

He squinted through gritty eyes into his brother’s face.

“D-don’t want to d-die.”

“You’re not dying when I’ve just found you,” the duke snapped.

“Essie.”

“Yes, and she loves you, so focus on that while I work out what we’re going to do. Also on the fact that you have to convince those two idiots she’s related to, to agree to letting you marry her.”

He couldn’t focus, and he struggled not to let the darkness consume him. He had to stay strong for her.

“Focus on my voice now, brother.”

The duke was looking at the shackles on his hands.

“He’s shackled!”

Several curses rained down on them from above.

“Let me down there now!”

Max heard Essie’s cry, and the sound of her distress had him struggling.

“No!” He managed to put some force into the word.

“Yes, or I’ll jump in!”

“God save me from hardheaded Sinclair woman,” the duke said.

Several more curses were heard, and Max slumped back against his brother as his legs gave out again.

“Get down here, Sinclair, I need your help!”

Max heard another splash, and suddenly Lord Sinclair had arrived.

“My sister is being restrained,” he gritted out. “By Edward.”

“How are we to get him out, Sinclair?”

Max slumped against his brother; even talking was beyond him now.

“The pole is too high to lift him over, and we could hurt him if we tried to break the shackles. I don’t suppose any of you Sinclairs can pick a lock?”

Sinclair cursed.

“What?” the duke said.

“Send her down, Cam, we need locks picked!”

“No!” Max tried to lift his head.

Lord Sinclair bent so his face was level with Max’s.

“Your beloved is a master lock picker, Huntington, so be on your guard, and don’t bother locking drawers with things you don’t want her to see.”

“Essie?” James questioned.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it. The gentlest among us could have a career as a criminal. She learnt from a man in Crunston Cliff. He made a living out of stealing, but when she saved his dog from an infection, he was devoted to her.”

Max couldn’t believe they were standing waist deep in water discussing this. “Do something,” he whispered as Essie’s legs appeared above him. “St-top her.”

“Lower her,” Sinclair said, ignoring him. “One thing you need to learn very quickly, Huntington, is that you can’t stop my sisters from doing anything.”

“I— Please sh-she should n-not be here. S-see me like this.”

“Be still, brother, this is the only way.” James said the words into his ear.

Max watched Essie fall into her brother’s arms. Felt his heart leap that she was so close.

“Essie.” Her name was barely a whisper now.

“Max.” His name was torn from her, and he could do nothing to hold her, nothing to ease her fears. She moved as close to him as she could, and pressed her face into his neck. Max closed his eyes and inhaled.

“Essie, I-I love you.” Through the long hours alone, he had thought only of her. His fight had been for her, them, and the life they would have together.

“I love you too.”

Her lips touched his cheek, and then she pulled away, and he bit back the words to make her stay. He felt her hands on his face. “B-be strong for a little longer.”

“Pick the locks on his hands, Essie, and then we can lift him out, and you can do the ankles later. He is cold, and needs attention quickly,” James said.

Max focused on her, saw the worry in her sweet face. His woman, he thought as she pulled a pin from her hair. He concentrated on that thought alone.

“Sh-she... c-cold,” Max stuttered out.

“She’s a Sinclair, they have nine lives, brother. Don’t worry.”

He felt the shackles give, and suddenly he was free and Essie was in his arms. He pressed his cheek to hers, listening as she soothed him.

“Come, now we will get you up and out of this place,” James said.

It was not an easy task, as he was a big man, but eventually they managed to get everyone back on the wharf and Max was soon wrapped in several coats.

“Someone’s coming!”

The duchess said the words, even though Max heard no voices.

“Everyone behind that wall,” Devon said, and they hurried to do as he said. In Max’s case, it was more a stumble, with James on one side and Essie on the other, tucked beneath his arm.

“Rutley,” he managed to say as he heard someone speaking.

“Essie, Eden, you two stay here with Max.”

The sisters did not argue, he was pleased to note. However, it did not sit well with Max that he was unable to help. He watched, helpless, as the other men drew their pistols and stepped from behind the wall.

“L-let me see,” he said.

They helped him move around the wall, and it was in time to see Rutley raise his pistol. Max’s heart kicked as he saw it was pointed at James.

“No!”

Rutley turned at his hoarse cry, and the distraction allowed Edward to fire. Seconds later, Captain Rutley was staggering backward, clutching his chest. He fell into the water below, and his men fled.

“Ch-check he is dead,” Max said, just before his legs gave out and darkness followed.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

He woke slowly, rolling to his side. Moaning as his tortured muscles protested, Max managed to lever himself upright and swing his legs over the edge of the bed. His first and only thought was for Essie. Where was she? He ached everywhere, but the need to see her surpassed that.

Enough light filtered into the room to tell him he was not in his own bed. Where was she? As if she’d sensed his thoughts, the door opened and she walked in with a tray in her hands, and Max fought the urge to weep again. His emotions were raw and near the surface, making him vulnerable, but he cared nothing about that, only her.

“You are awake.” She hurried to place the tray on a small table.

“Essie.” His voice was weak. “Come here.”

She did, her steps tentative as she approached him.

“Are.... Do you hurt, Max?”

“I ache for you.” He took her hand and pulled her between his legs. Slipping his fingers beneath her hair, he kissed her. Max drank from her lips. He wanted to consume her. She was like a fever in his blood.

“For so long I needed no one.” He pressed his face into her neck. “But from the first night, you filled my head and heart.”

“Oh, Max.” Essie cupped his face, kissed every inch. “I was so scared when I realized you had been taken by that man. I love you so much.”

He took her hips and pulled her closer, needing to feel her body pressed to his.

“Did you doubt me?”

He read her guilt, but she did not look away.

“I did, especially after being betrayed by Tolly. But then, when I allowed myself to think clearly, I knew that you would never leave me. That you were loyal and true, and that I had been wrong to ever doubt you.”

He sighed as she gently raked her fingers through his hair.

“I knew then that you had been taken against your will.”

“I would never leave you.”

“I know that now. Forgive me for ever doubting you, my love.”

He didn’t want to let her go, but she insisted he do so.

“You need to eat now, Max, and let me rub some ointment into your sore muscles.”

He watched as she walked to the tray, and then back to him. This would be his life now. She would care for him as she did others. The thought was humbling.

“You kept me alive, Essie. Thinking of you gave me the strength to stand in that water. Had it not been for you, I don’t think I would have cared.”

She urged him back against the pillows.

“Death has never worried me before now. But knowing that I could have a life with you urged me to stay alive.”

“I believe differently, and think you would have fought death, Max. You would not have left those boys, and Edward, and all the people who rely on you.”

“I-I have done things, Essie.”

“As have I.”

“Bad things,” he pressed on, ignoring her words. “My life has been vastly different from yours, and this will make me possessive. I have never had or wanted a home, but now that I do, with you, I will not be an easy husband.”

“And I would have you no other way, Max. I want you just as you are.”

He let her settle the tray on his lap.

“My brothers are men like you. Strong, honorable men.”

“I am not honorable.” Max needed her to see that.

“You are!”

He looked from the tray to her as she snapped at him. Her mouth had firmed and she wasn’t exactly glaring, but it was close. Suddenly he wanted to smile at her ferocity in believing him honorable.

“You are more honorable than many who bear that title, so I do not want to hear you say another word on the matter.”

Max wasn’t used to people defending him... even from himself. He found he liked it.

“Now eat, please.”

She made him eat coddled eggs, cheese, and lastly a wedge of fruitcake. He chased it all down with tea, and then she removed the tray.

“Are you up to leaving the bed? James would like to see you, as he has been very worried.”

“Is that where I am?”

She nodded. Max needed to touch her, so he took her hand in his.

“I remember snatches of last night. Him jumping into the water, and then your brother. I remember Rutley. He fell into the water—”

“My brothers checked. He is now dead, Max. That man will cause you no more pain.”

He nodded, relieved.

“I want to stay in this room with you, my love.”

“As do I, but my brothers will soon appear and track me down if I am not where they can see me.”

“They have a right to be worried, as all I can think about is ravishing you.”

She snorted. “You do not have the strength.”

“I’ll always have the strength for that.” He made to grab her, but she stepped out of his reach. “Up now, and here is a robe, as you are not up to dressing yet.”

“Surely I can manage my breeches?”

She held out the robe.

“Are you to be the tyrant in our marriage then, love?” Max stepped into the robe. “Not that I mind. I have never had another watch over me.”

“I had to be forceful, surely you see that, considering who I was raised with.”

He snorted. “Yes, I can see it would be sink or swim in your family.”

“You shall fare well.” She tied the belt for him. “You are made the same way as us.”

He wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the pain in his shoulders in favor of holding her. Resting his head on hers, he pressed her to his chest.

“I can’t believe you picked those locks to free me.”

“There is a great deal you do not yet know about me.” Her words were muffled.

“Will you tell me then?”

She pulled away, suddenly nervous.

“Come, they are waiting for us.”

“Essie.” He tried to stop her, but she simply kept walking out the door. He followed more slowly; his legs were stiff and sore. She entered another room, and he followed, this time into the duke’s study.

The ceiling was high, with the farthest wall holding floor-to-ceiling windows that made it seem as if she were stepping into the sunlight. Books lined two walls, high enough that a ladder would be needed to reach the top ones. The furnishings were of rich, deep reds and blues with woven patterned rugs scattered on the polished wooden floors. It was alive with a feast of color and light, and he had a feeling the duke spent a great deal of time here.

Standing behind his desk, his brother was watching him. Brother. The word felt easier inside his head. Essie had done this to him with her love. She’d made him more accepting.

“Thank you for rescuing me.”

“It was my wife who actually located you. Will you sit, and I will tell you what happened.”

He took the chair in front of the desk, beside Essie.

“How do you feel?”

“Stiff and sore, but surprisingly better than I thought,” Max said honestly.

“Do you remember anything about what happened?”

Max nodded. “Most of it, the end is a bit hazy however. But Essie assures me Rutley is dead.”

She gave him a gentle smile, and Max felt the ridiculous urge to sigh. What the hell was happening to him? First he’d wept, and now sighing. Love, he realized, was a wonderful thing.

“Dev and Cam went to your house to tear you apart, as they rightfully believed you had hurt their sister.”

“But he did not, I was wrong,” Essie quickly said.

“Reasoning is not a Sinclair strength,” the duke drawled.

“No.” Essie shook her head. “We’re not entirely rational when it comes to people we love.”

“Edward was at your house when the Sinclair brothers arrived. They demanded to know where you were, and he produced the note you’d left. He also said he believed you had met with trouble, because you had finished the note with M. C. R. Huntington.”

Edward had picked up his clue.

“To Edward, this was a strange way for you to sign the note. It did not take him long to work out what the C. R. meant.”

“He is a very smart man,” Max rasped.

“Call for tea, James, his throat is very sore.”

“I’m all right, love.” He reached into Essie’s lap and took her hand in his.

James smiled at the gesture, and Max was pleased to see it was genuine.

“The Sinclair brothers then calmed down enough to allow Edward to speak. Essie, Eden, and Lilly arrived, and the rest is history. It was my wife who heard you calling.”

“Care to tell me how she heard?”

“And that is my cue.”

Max turned to watch Devon and Cam Sinclair walk into the room with Eden.

“You’re holding my sister’s hand, Huntington.”

“Yes,” Max said, tightening the grip on her slender fingers.

The eldest Sinclair looked like an avenging angel as he glared down at Max, but he wasn’t intimidated easily, having lived the life he had, so he simply glared back.

“You will call upon me tomorrow, Huntington.”

“I will.”

“Do you love her?”

“Eden!” Essie sounded horrified.

“More than I can ever say,” Max said without hesitation.

“And will you marry her?”

“Is today too soon?”

Several Sinclairs huffed; the elder one sighed.

“Very well, but you hurt her and we’ll kill you.”

“Eden!” Essie looked outraged.

“No, love, she’s right.” Max looked at her. “If I ever hurt you, I will deserve whatever punishment your brothers mete out.”

Max heard groans from the men and sighs from the women.

“Cut that out right now, Huntington. You’ll make us look bad,” Sinclair snapped. Stepping forward, he held out his hand, and Max took it. “Welcome to the family.”

“Just like that?”

“Oh, you and I will have a talk tomorrow, but my sister will likely not speak to me again if I don’t let her marry you. We are unorthodox, perhaps we should have told you that first.”

Max shook his head. “Nothing would change my mind about marrying your sister, Sinclair.”

“Hold that thought,” Cambridge Sinclair said.

“We are different, Max.”

“That I already knew.” He smiled at Essie.

“Listen now, Huntington, and don’t interrupt,” Cambridge said. “This is a story that takes some believing.”

Essie tried to ease her fingers from Max’s. Fear that he would turn from her when he learned what the Sinclairs were capable of had her withdrawing. Max had other ideas. He tightened his grip.

“We have heightened senses. Mine is sight, Eden’s is hearing, Cam’s is smell, and Essie’s is taste. Warwick, Somer, and Dorrie also have them.”

Essie could not make herself look at Max as Dev continued to speak. Would his eyes be filled with horror?

“I’m not sure I understand?”

“And likely you never well. Even we still struggle to grasp it,” Cam drawled.

“In 1335, Baron Sinclair saved the powerful Duke of Raven from death, and from that day onward, we, the Sinclairs have been protectors of the Raven family. Our heightened senses are, we believe, a result of that day.” Eden spoke now.

Essie made herself look at Max. His eyes met hers, but she saw no disbelief, only curiosity.

“He, our ancestor, was given the title, and land at the base of Raven Mountain so the Sinclairs could watch over the Ravens,” Dev continued. “You see, Huntington, your family are notoriously reckless with their lives, and needed us to ensure their line did not become extinct.”

“Which they will never fail to remind you of.”

Max’s eyes swung to James after these words.

“They saved you?”

“Yes, Eden rescued me from drowning, and Dev when we were away fighting for our country. He then saved Lilly, who is my cousin, but also has a connection to the Sinclairs from many centuries back. Hence she has a heightened sense of touch.”

“She does?” Max spun back to look at her.

“It is a lot to take in,” Dev said.

Essie nodded. The breath seemed to have lodged in her throat. “D-do you believe us?” She had to ask.

“Of course. I know you would not lie to me, and yet it seems almost too much to believe.”

“It takes some time to understand, brother, but you will,” James said. “And there is no family I would rather be aligned with than this one.”

“So I have a duke for a brother, and now a betrothed with heightened senses? I wonder what next week will bring?”

Essie felt the tension inside her slip away as Max gave her a gentle smile.

“Nothing would change the way I feel about you, my love. This only makes you even more special.”

“Huntington, you will need to stop this right now. You are making us look bad in front of our wives.”

Max ignored Dev’s words, and simply looked at Essie. She saw the love he felt for her, and knew it was matched in her own eyes.

“James, can we come in now?”

Everyone turned as Samantha and Emily entered the room. The little girl looked excited, the elder nervous. Essie watched as Max got to his feet to greet them.

“Hello, Max.”

“Hello, Samantha.”

He held a hand out to her, and she ran across the room to wrap her arms around his waist. Essie could not stop the tears falling as Max bent to put his around her.

“You’re my brother now.”

“I know, are you happy about that?”

“I am. Big brothers are wonderful.” She sighed.

“Then I shall try to live up to expectation.”

Essie watched as he kissed the top of her head before straightening. His body must be sore, muscles pulling, and yet he showed no sign of it. He held a hand on Samantha’s shoulder as he looked at Emily.

“Hello, Emily. Do you mind very much if I share you with James?”

The words were perfect, as Emily’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and she walked forward.

“I don’t mind. We’re glad to have you in our family, aren’t we, James?”

Max leaned forward to kiss Emily’s cheek.

“We are indeed,” James said, coming to join the group. “We are now four Raven siblings. We only need to find three more, and we shall rival these bloody Sinclairs.”

Chapter 28

The Sinclair and Raven families had retired to Crunston Cliff for the births of Eden’s and Lilly’s babies. Everyone was staying at Raven Castle, except for Max and Essie, who were at Oak’s Knoll.

Their marriage had been a quiet one in the church on Raven Mountain, with only family and a few of Max’s employees to attend.

The days since had been spent getting to know this wonderful and complex man she was now married to. He had the energy of ten men, and worked tirelessly on his interests. Except now, when she was settled in his lap in the room he had set up as his office that overlooked her garden.

“You are a distraction, Mrs. Huntington.”

“You need distracting.” She kissed his chin and then her mouth found his lips, and it was several heated minutes later that they broke apart.

“I never thought I would want to be part of a marriage or family, but I find myself wondering how I survived so long alone, my love.”

His kiss was gentle, and left her head reeling.

“Someone has arrived.”

“Ignore them.” He ran a finger around the edge of her bodice, but she slapped his hands aside.

“Someone could be hurt.”

“I’m hurting,” Max muttered, but he stood her gently on her feet.

Essie opened the door to Bertie’s knock.

“A note has arrived from the castle.”

She read it quickly. “Dear Lord, the babies are coming.”

“What, both of them?” Max came to her side, his hand settling on her shoulder, calming her.

“W-we must go, Max. I—”

“It will be all right, my love. Take a deep breath now, and we shall gather what you need and go to the castle.”

They left ten minutes later, she sitting before Max on his horse.

“What if something goes wrong?” She said the words that had been riding her since she had read that note.

“It won’t.”

“But how do you know? How can you be so calm?”

His arms held her tight, pressed into the hard planes of his chest.

“Essie, you will do what must be done with your usual competency, and these children, our nieces or nephews, will arrive on this earth healthy and strong.”

“I’m scared, Max.”

“Which is entirely natural,” he assured her. “But I am here with you, so you have no need to fear.”

And it was true. She was stronger when he was near. He was so much a part of her now, she could not imagine life without this man she had married.

The castle was in mayhem when they arrived. The mothers, thankfully, had been placed in rooms adjacent to each other. The fathers were pacing the hall between. Cam looked harassed.

“About bloody time you got here!” Dev roared at her, and she knew it was worry speaking.

“That will do, Dev. Essie is here now, and all will go well. But it will be even better if you stop roaring loud enough that Lilly and Eden can hear,” Max said calmly. “Now go and see to the mothers, my love, and I will tend these idiots.”

“I am to be a father, Max.”

“I know you are, brother, but not for a few hours, I think.”

She opened the door to the first bedroom on Max’s words, a small smile on her face.

Many hours later, as the sun rose on Raven Mountain to mark the dawn of a new day, Max gathered his tired wife in his arms and carried her to the room the butler had made up for him.

“A niece and a nephew. But you knew that, didn’t you, Mrs. Huntington?”

“Yes, and they are adorable, Max.”

He privately thought they looked like wrinkled prunes, but he had not been able to mistake the jolt of delight that they would now be part of his life, and this wonderful family he had married into, as he had caught his first look at the babies.

“Isabella was my mother’s name. Eden has always wanted her daughter to be named after her.”

“And Lilly named her son, Charles, after her father.”

Max could hear the tiredness in Essie’s words. Dark smudges marked her skin beneath bloodshot eyes. She was exhausted. Lowering her to her feet, he stripped off her clothes and pulled back the blankets.

“I need to wash.”

“Tomorrow is soon enough.” He urged her onto the bed. Removing his clothes, he soon followed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her tight into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, wife.”

“Eden and Lilly did the work, I merely assisted.”

She never took compliments well, but Max was working on that. Just as she was working on him.

“Max?”

“Hmmm?” Sleep was pulling him under.

“I want a baby.”

He smiled into her hair as his hand moved to her stomach.

“Me too.”

“Thank you for your strength,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Closing his eyes, Max fell asleep as he did every night, with everything he wanted and needed in his arms.

…

Thank you for reading books 1-3 in the Sinclair and Raven series. Book 4 SCENT OF DANGER is available now!

Miss Emily Tolly, a duke’s illegitimate sister, knows better than to trust rakish Cambridge Sinclair — even if he does keep saving her life. But when his latest rescue results in their marriage, will she wind up falling for her new husband?

Read on for an excerpt of SCENT OF DANGER

Scent Of Danger

“Emily?” Cam shook his head to clear it, sure he was not seeing who he thought he was. Reaching his side, she stopped, the horror on her face telling him she was about as happy to see him as he her.

“What are you doing here?”

Emily was the half-sister to James, the Duke of Raven, Eden’s husband. Cam and she had disliked each other excessively from their first glance. The feeling had not alleviated but grown over the years. Emily often made Cam feel as if he had a pebble in his shoe—not painful, but bloody annoying.

“I-I am to attend Mr. Fossett’s lecture.” She raised her chin, defying him to say a word against her.

“You do realize it is on Galileo and heliocentrism?”

Her soft gray eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “Oh dear, I had thought it was flower arrangement.”

This time it was Cam who narrowed his eyes. The woman had a smart mouth, which she rarely used unless he was nearby. Beneath that black velvet bonnet was hair the color of the honey he drizzled on his morning toast. She was slender, and he’d often thought her willowy, but to her face he called her skinny. He personally liked women curvaceous and less caustic.

“As it is likely that I am standing between you and this lecture, one would think you could find your way to being nicer,” Cam said.

“Why are you standing in my way?”

“Where is your maid?” Cam asked instead of answering her question.

The gloved fingers at her side clenched briefly, then released.

“Not here.”

“You are surely not attending alone?” Cam looked around but saw no one that would be keeping her company. He knew most of the staff in her household. “In these conditions?”

“I am, and usually do so.”

“I don’t believe James or Max would like the idea of that.”

Her lips formed a straight line.

“My brothers trust me. Besides, I have always walked about London alone, I see no reason to change that.”

“It’s cold enough to snow, and the streets are lined with ice. That alone, without the other ten reasons, should have been enough to make you use common sense.”

“Only ten? I am surprised.”

“You,” he pointed a finger in her face with a total disregard for manners, “are a mouthy woman.”

“Thank you.” Her chin rose.

“It was not a compliment, as you are only mouthy in my company. You have your family fooled into believing you are a sweet natured, timid individual.”

“I’m sweet natured!”

Cam scoffed. “How is it I have yet to see you at any lectures?” He raised a hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “Wait, I have it, you slip in at the rear, then leave before everyone else.”

“I have no wish to discuss this with you.”

She attempted to walk by, but he grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her.

“You sneaked out of the house, didn’t you, and your family see no reason to question your actions as usually you are the epitome of well behaved, or squirreled away in your bedchamber?”

Emily looked uncomfortable and Cam realized he was on to something.

“How long has this been happening? Hiding in your room, where your family rarely venture, and then slipping out when they are not looking?”

She kept her eyes forward.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I would never lie to my family.”

“Lie, no; evade, yes.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“And what of your reputation should anyone chance upon you gadding about London alone... on foot?”

She scoffed. “I hardly think I can do any more to ruin my reputation, Cambridge.”

She attempted to leave once more, but Cam simply tugged her with him as he stepped to the side and out of the line so those behind him could enter, as the doors had finally opened.

“What does that mean?”

She had a way of looking at him that made him want to gnash his teeth. When Emily was near he had the urge to behave very badly... and often did. She brought out the worst in him and Cam had no idea why.

“I’m the bastard daughter of a duke.” The words were cold and clipped. “I would have thought it obvious.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don’t be ignorant, Cambridge, it has a great deal to do with everything, especially in the way people see me.”

“And this is why you have not entered society as James wished?”

Emily shifted her weight slightly, just a small movement, but he knew her well enough to see it as discomfort.

“Because it is not right I do so, as you very well know. James is blinded by the fact I am of his blood, but it is not done for me to enter society. It will make life extremely uncomfortable for him, and Eden, in fact all of you, should I so much as step foot inside the hallowed walls of a nobleman’s house.”

It made him uncomfortable to acknowledge that maybe she was correct, so instead he said, “He wants only the best for you.”

“I know.”

“What was that business you and Mr. Lotus were discussing... loudly?”

“’Tis nothing.” She dismissed his words.

Cam noted the arm he was not holding was behind her back.

“You said something about showing Fossett your paper,” Cam remembered.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Tsk tsk, Emily. You are lying to me.”

Reaching around her, he grabbed the hand she was hiding and brought it forward. In her fist was clutched several papers.

“You will not touch those!”

“Tell me what they are, then I won’t have to.”

“They are private, and mine; that alone should be enough to end this discussion.”

Cam laughed. “That has never stopped me, or any of my family members. Lord, Emily, if I simply stood back and waited for people to tell me things I would be constantly in the dark.”

“I don’t have time for this, Cambridge. I wish to attend that lecture, and plan to do so.”

He grabbed her arm again as she turned away from him, and walked her forward. After her encounter with Mr. Lotus, he couldn’t discount the man refusing to admit her and he would not tolerate that. She may irritate him like a rampaging plague of ants, but he was not having her insulted by anyone but he.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lotus.”

“Mr. Sinclair.” The man bowed, and shot Emily a narrow-eyed look.

“This is my sister-in-law, Miss Tolly. She wishes to attend the lecture. Is that a problem?”

“No indeed. If she is to enter in your company, Mr. Sinclair, I have no problem with that.”

Cam felt Emily stiffen, but he ignored her and took some money out of his pocket. “She also wishes for these papers to find their way into Mr. Fossett’s hands. Is that also possible?” Cam wrenched the papers from Emily and put the money on top. He then handed them to Mr. Lotus.

The man bobbed his head. “I shall see it done, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Why will you take his money and not mine?”

“You tried to bribe him?” Cam was shocked, he’d never thought her capable of such a deed.

“Well you just did.”

“Yes… well yes, but it’s expected of me,” Cam managed to get out.

Mr. Lotus opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word Cam had dragged Emily away.

“How dared he,” she fumed. “Because I am a woman my money is not worthy of his consideration. But you wave some about and charm him with your smile and—”

“Take a breath, Emily, you are turning puce.”

“He... he is a-a—”

“Small-minded imbecile?”

“The very thing.”

Cam found he quite liked seeing Emily with fire in her eyes. It did not happen often, and usually only when a member of her family, or his, was under threat.

“Come along then, Miss Tolly, we shall find you the best seat in the house, then you can sit and bask in Mr. Fossett’s magnificence. Should that not happen then I shall be on hand as a substitute.”

“Bloody hell,” Cam heard her say.

He could not muster a smile; as always, he felt like a cat with his fur rubbed the wrong way in her presence.

“Don’t drag your feet, Emily.”

“I am not, but your legs are longer than mine!”

He adjusted his stride as they entered the building.

“A simple thank-you will do.”

She sighed. “Thank you for making him take those papers, Cambridge. Do you really think he will hand them to Mr. Fossett?”

“I hope so, but at least he now has them in his possession. Will you tell me what they are?”

“In Mr. Fossett’s last journal, The Stars Are Aligned, he asked for submissions regarding the discovery of comets.”

Her face was alive suddenly. Eyes sparkling, lips smiling, and color riding along the ridges of her cheekbones.

“So astronomy is your particular passion? Do you have another copy? I would like to read it.”

“Really?” She looked shocked.

“Why does that shock you?”

“Because I did not think it would interest you.”

She was looking around the room, no doubt in search of the noxious Mr. Fossett.

“And yet here I stand, awaiting an astronomy lecture, so it seems you are wrong.” She was craning her neck now to see around several gentlemen who were standing in the aisle. “How long have you been interested in this?”

“Quite some time.”

“You hid that well then, because until today I thought your character had the depth of a thimble.”

The breath hissed from her throat, sounding like a snake, as she returned her eyes to him.

“You, sir, are no gentleman.”

“Is that meant to be an insult, because if it is, you will need to put more effort into it. After all, you know who my family are.”

“I shall find my own seat here at the rear.”

“No you will not.” Cam led her down the aisle between the seats until they were about halfway, then moved right, dragging Emily with him. He saw two spare seats. “Max and James would thrash me if they heard I let you sit in here alone with so many men present.”

“Release me!”

He didn’t until they were seated.

“How long have you been attending lectures?” Cam asked.

She huffed, and then twitched her skirts before smoothing them, and finally settled the little satin bag on her lap, hands now clasped neatly around the ribbons. He had the urge to ruffle her slightly.

She had fine features. A small round nose, arched brows, long lashes tipped with gold, and soft pink lips. She was vastly different from the woman he and his family had met many years ago when she had come to live with the duke. Then, she’d been a shadow of the Emily Tolly he saw today.

“I’m attempting to be polite, Emily, perhaps you could reciprocate?”

“Since arriving in London,” she said reluctantly.

“And your brothers do not know?”

“Max knows, well some of it anyway.”

“But not James?”

While James was a duke, Max was the bastard child of his father, like Emily. She’d never been close to James, but with Max it had been different from the beginning.

“H-he would not approve.”

“I doubt Max does.”

She shrugged one slender shoulder.

“What is your problem with James? He rescued you, housed you, and from what I gather he is always kind and generous to you.” This too had always annoyed Cam, the fact she treated her brother like a stranger even now, after everything he had done for her.

“I have no problem with James.”

“That is a lie, Emily. You keep him at a distance unlike Max, just as you isolate yourself from the Sinclairs when you can.”

“Be quiet, the lecture is starting.”

“This discussion is not finished.”

Cam would question her again because James deserved better from her. He was a friend, and one who had saved Cam from himself. He would get to the bottom of this. Unfortunately, to do that, he had to spend time in this woman’s company. The thought was not a pleasing one.

Scent Of Danger – available now

Other Books By Wendy Vella

Historical Romance

Regency Rakes Series

Duchess By Chance

Rescued By A Viscount

Tempting Miss Allender

The Langley Sisters Series

Lady In Disguise

Lady In Demand

Lady In Distress

The Lady Plays Her Ace

The Lady Seals Her Fate

The Lady’s Dangerous Love

The Raven & Sinclair Series

Sensing Danger

Seeing Danger

Touched By Danger

Scent Of Danger

Vision Of Danger

Tempting Danger

Seductive Danger

The Lords Of Night Street Series

Lord Gallant

Lord Valiant

Lord Valorous

Lord Noble

Stand-Alone Titles

The Reluctant Countess

Christmas Wishes

The Earl’s Encounter

Mistletoe And The Marquess

Contemporary Romance

The Lake Howling Series

A Promise Of Home

The Texan Meets His Match

How Sweet It Is

It Only Took You

Don’t Look Back

A Long Way Home

Ryker Falls Series

Somebody To Love

From This Moment

Love Me Tender

Only Just Begun

About the Author

Wendy Vella is a bestselling author of historical and contemporary romances

such as the Langley Sisters and Sinclair and Raven series, with over a million copies of her books sold worldwide.

Born and raised in a rural area in the North Island of New Zealand, she shares her life with one adorable husband, two delightful adult children and their partners, four delicious grandchildren, and too many cantankerous farm animals.

Sign up for Wendy’s newsletter

wendyvella.com/subscribe

Like Wendy Vella on Facebook:

facebook.com/wendyvella

Follow Wendy Vella on Instagram:

instagram.com/wendy.vella_author

Visit Wendy’s website for her current booklist:

www.wendyvella.com/books

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

Sinclair and Raven Collection is published by Wendy Vella

Copyright © 2019 Wendy Vella