by S. G. Rogers
As the melodrama progressed, Myles was transfixed. To Larken, the actors might as well have been speaking Swahili for all she absorbed. Her palms were moist, and her shoulders felt tense. Nevertheless, she feigned pleasure and kept a composed expression. When Lord Apollo appeared at last, clad in a blond wig, Myles wiggled and tugged on Larken’s sleeve. She nodded and patted his hand, but she was consumed with worry for her husband. Brandon’s shocked expression was visible in the glow of the stage lighting. He’d leaned forward in his seat, his body nearly rigid, and his mouth opened slightly. I was right. Lord Apollo is Theo.
Larken tore her gaze away from her husband, unwilling to act the voyeur while he dealt with the knowledge his beloved brother was still alive. She could not begin to guess his thoughts, and felt wretched at the responsibility she bore for his current emotional tumult. Instead, she fixed her attention onto her brother-in-law. Lord Rowe had said the man was air to Brandon’s fire, and the comparison was apt. They bore a striking resemble to one another, but Theo’s edges were more sharply drawn, and his bones were thinner and lighter. As a fourteen-year-old girl, she’d been attracted to his face, which was almost androgynous in its beauty. Although she still thought Theo handsome, Brandon’s rugged good looks appealed to her in a far more visceral way.
A stolen glance revealed a sheen of moisture in Brandon’s eyes, and Larken felt helpless to do anything for him. Once more she forced herself to watch the stage, wondering if she could sit through the matinée without losing her composure.
My brother is alive.
Brandon couldn’t think straight. His first impulse was to leap onto the stage and grab Theo by the shoulders to make sure he wasn’t a ghost. After the sheer joy of discovery passed, however, other less tender feelings began to emerge. His brother was alive but had not contacted him since they’d parted. Their parents had died and he’d not attended their funerals. Did he feel more like embracing Theo or knocking him flat? With a mighty effort, he forced his feelings of resentment and anger aside and decided to concentrate just for a little while on the fact his brother was still breathing. Whatever other issues were unresolved, he would have the chance to speak with Theo and to finally make peace with the guilt that had plagued him every day since he was told his brother’s body had been found.
He didn’t commit suicide because of me. I’ve just been given a gift.
He stretched out his hand to his wife as he realized his presence at this performance wasn’t a coincidence. She’d known Lord Apollo was Theo, and brought him here to discover that for himself. When he thought about how difficult it had been for her to take the long train ride to town, he was awed by her bravery. Larken did this for me…and for Myles. She truly is an angel.
A sense of peace seemed to restore his soul. At the same time, he couldn’t wait for the performance to be over so he could speak with Theo. After what seemed like an interminably long hour and a half, the final curtain fell and the theatre lights came up. Brandon glanced at Myles’ shining face.
“Did you see Lord Apollo!” the boy exclaimed. “Except for his hair, he does look like you!”
“Indeed, it’s uncanny.” His voice sounded gravelly, even to his own ears.
“If you tip the stage manager, he’ll let you backstage to see him,” Larken murmured. “Myles and I will wait for you in the carriage out front.”
“I think that’s best.” Brandon kissed her. “Thank you.”
He rose and made his way to the stage door in the alley, which was thronged by several working-class gents hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite actresses. When the stage manager stuck his head out to shoo the lads away, Brandon waved a one-pound note under his nose. The gesture caught the man’s attention immediately.
“Hullo, sir. What can I do for you?”
“A word with Lord Apollo, please.”
The manager snatched the money from his hand. “Er…make it quick. He’s not real sociable-like.”
When Brandon entered the building, he was startled to see several of the actresses walking around in various forms of undress. They preened as he passed by.
“Oi…you looking for company?”
“I’m free for dinner, laddie.”
“Hetty, you ain’t free but you are cheap!”
“Shut it!”
“Leave the gentleman be, girls,” the manager said. “He ain’t here for any of you dollymops.”
As the girls began to bicker amongst themselves, the manager ushered Brandon past them and toward the corner, where a small curtain formed a private dressing area.
“Someone to see you, Apollo.”
“All right. One moment.”
Theo’s voice sounded muffled. Brandon stepped past the curtain, where his brother was seated in front of a mirror. The blond wig sat on a stand nearby, and Theo’s eyes were closed as he rubbed greasepaint off his skin with a cloth.
“Be right with you,” he said.
“Take your time,” Brandon replied.
Theo’s movements stopped, the cloth lowered, and his eyelids popped open. He stared at Brandon in the mirror for several long seconds.
“It’s bloody good to see you, Bran.”
Chapter Ten
A Fond Adieu
THEO STOOD AND TURNED to face him. The air was thick with emotion. Not trusting himself to speak, Brandon embraced him. When the men stepped back, their eyes were moist.
“I thought you were dead,” Brandon managed.
“Dead? Where’d you get that idea?”
“They fished a body out of a Liverpool canal. He had your pocket watch.”
Understanding dawned. “I sold that watch for funds to get myself to London.” He stared at Brandon with a bewildered expression. “The lad and I didn’t resemble one another at all. How could you get us confused?”
“The authorities identified his body, not I. When I went to claim the body, I was informed it was quite decomposed. I couldn’t bear to look at his face.”
“Ah. Can’t blame you for that.” A pause. “I suppose that explains why you never searched for me.”
As Brandon regarded Theo, he felt as if his heart was bleeding. In the past, his brother had always taken great pride in his appearance—perhaps too much so. Now, however, his attire was shabby, his shoes were worn, and he was in dire need of a haircut. Never before had he seen Theo look less than polished, and that more than anything made him realize how his brother had been tested.
“Theo, a great deal has changed since you disappeared. Come back to Graceling Hall. We’ll work something out with the property, and you can resume your old life again.”
He shook his head. “I daresay Father wouldn’t approve of my current situation. He’d throw me out again as soon as I arrived.”
“Theo, Father passed away.”
A gasp. “And Mother?”
“She died almost a year thereafter.”
Theo’s face lost all color. Shaking, he lowered himself into the chair. “I-I had no idea.”
Brandon put a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I regret having to give you bad news all at once.”
“I do believe I thought they would live forever.” He searched Brandon’s face. “I hope you don’t blame me for not coming to their funerals. I didn’t stay away from Newcastle out of spite.”
“Of course not.” He took a deep breath. “Theo, I’m deeply sorry for what I said to you before about Mariah. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and I should have been more gracious.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I deserved everything you said and more.” His grin was wry. “Of course, I received my comeuppance, so perhaps we’re even.”
“Nonsense.” Brandon suddenly became aware of a pregnant silence amongst the actors on the far side of the curtain. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss business. Come with me to the Grosvenor townhouse. I have a carriage waiting out front.”
Myles made a pirate spyglass with his theatre program and peered through it out the ca
rriage window. “How much longer?”
Larken bit her lip. “I’m not certain. Um…let me tell you a story about Lady Peabody, back when she was known as the famous actress, Miss Curly Lovelocks.”
A burst of giggles. “Curly Lovelocks!”
“That’s why Lady Peabody is so nervous, you see. She’s worried somebody will recognize her from her acting days and reveal her past to all her extremely respectable friends.”
“Oh, no! I’ll never tell anyone.”
Larken had just launched into a story about Miss Curly Lovelocks and her royal suitor, when Brandon appeared with Theo. As they climbed into the carriage, Myles gurgled with delight. “Lord Apollo!”
The sight of Myles and Larken seemed to take Theo aback. “Why…hello.”
“Larken, I’d like you to meet Mr. Theo King,” Brandon said.
“Ha!” Myles interrupted. “I knew Lord Apollo wasn’t your real name.”
“Theo, this is my wife, Larken,” Brandon said.
“You’ve married? How simply marvelous!” Theo exclaimed.
Larken nodded. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Likewise.”
“And this talkative lad is Myles,” Brandon said.
Theo looked more confused than ever. “Your son has an American accent?”
“He’s not my son, unfortunately. Myles is my ward.”
After they were settled in the carriage, Brandon gave James the signal to drive on. Theo and Brandon were seated side by side, giving Larken the opportunity to see just how similar the two brothers really were.
“Mr. King traveled all the way to New York to fetch me from my great-aunt,” Myles said.
Theo gave Myles’ hand a firm shake. “I’m very glad to meet you.”
Larken’s throat tightened with emotion, and she bit back tears. Clearly Brandon had not yet told his brother that Myles was his son, and if she didn’t maintain her composure, Theo would suspect something was wrong.
“Theo King is the name of Mr. King’s brother,” Myles said. “Is that you?”
“How did you know that, Myles?” Brandon asked.
“From the portrait in the attic,” he replied. “Larken and I couldn’t tell which brother was which.”
“Indeed, I’m your guardian’s long lost elder brother,” Theo said.
“Well, we found you,” Myles said. “Now you’re just his elder brother.”
Larken, Theo, and Brandon laughed.
“Theo, do you have any entanglements to prevent you from returning to Graceling Hall with us next week?” Brandon asked.
“I must give notice at the theatre, of course, and pack up my things.” Theo glanced down at his threadbare jacket. “On second thought, I have very little I wish to bring with me. My wardrobe isn’t suitable for a gentleman, I’m afraid. An actor’s salary barely pays the rent.”
“We’re nearly the same size, so you can borrow something of mine for dinner tonight. Tomorrow we’ll get you proper clothes,” Brandon said. “You’ll be a new man before we leave London.”
Myles’ eyes grew wide. “So you’re coming home with us? There’s plenty of room at Graceling Hall, even though we’re going to be hiring a nanny.” He made a disgusted face.
“Nannies can be quite nice,” Theo said. “Brandon and I had several nannies when we were growing up, and most were rather amiable.”
“Do you remember Larken? She met you once before,” Myles said.
The smile Larken gave Theo was apologetic. “I came to see you perform in Miss Progress and Captain Pilgrim on my fourteenth birthday.”
“Ha! That was one of my first performances at the Adelphi. I hope I wasn’t too dreadful.”
“Quite the contrary. My father brought me backstage, where you very kindly signed my program.”
He peered at her, astonished. “In fact I do remember you. Your dress was the same color as the one you’re wearing right now.”
“Yes, it was! I’d forgotten about that.”
“You looked rather like an angel, as I recall.”
“Larken’s the Miracle Orphan,” Myles said. “Maybe she is an angel.”
“I would say that’s a certainty,” Brandon said.
Warmth expanded in Larken’s center at the tenderness of her husband’s smile.
When they reached the townhouse, it was late afternoon. Brandon sent for his valet and the housekeeper, and introduced them to his brother.
“Please prepare a room for Mr. King and find him something suitable to wear from my things.” He glanced at Theo. “Come down to the drawing room when you’re ready and we’ll have tea.”
After Theo disappeared upstairs, Brandon flagged down a servant.
“Take Myles into the kitchen, please, and get him something to eat.”
Myles pouted. “Why can’t I have tea with you?”
“My brother, Larken, and I have a great deal to talk about, and most of it would bore you to tears. Be a good lad and run along.”
Once Brandon and Larken were alone in the drawing room, he held her close for a long while without speaking. His eyes were moist when he broke away.
“I can’t ever thank you enough. How did you know Lord Apollo was my brother?”
“I put bits and pieces of information together, but I wasn’t completely certain until I saw your reaction today in the theatre. When do you plan to tell Theo about his relationship to Myles?”
“Over tea, I suppose. I didn’t want to overwhelm him all at once. He doesn’t even know about Mariah yet.”
“It is a lot to absorb. I suggest waiting to tell Myles for a little while, at least until he becomes better acquainted with his father.”
“That’s a good idea.” With a broad grin, Brandon picked Larken up and swung her around. “You’ve given me my life back. I have a second chance to make things right.”
She laughed. “I’m so glad.”
He set her down, but didn’t let go. “I don’t understand what I ever did to deserve you, Larken. I’m truly blessed.”
In the next moment, his lips claimed hers. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her closer. As they kissed, Larken did her best to follow Brandon’s lead…almost as if they were dancing together. His taste, his scent, and his very essence were intoxicating, and she wondered if she would ever tire of him.
With a groan, he finally released her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t have started something I can’t finish,” he said. “I don’t want my brother or the servants to walk into the middle of my romantic discourse.” He ran his hand over his flushed face. “Talk to me of something dull, so I can collect myself.”
Larken thought for a moment. “The attic at Graceling Hall is full of family portraits. May I have them dusted off and rehung?”
“An excellent topic. I don’t see why not. When we’re back—”
Theo tapped on the drawing room door just then, clad in Brandon’s finest clothes. Although he seemed slightly ill at ease, he looked every inch the gentleman. “Hullo. I don’t mean to interrupt.”
“Not at all,” Brandon said. “Larken and I were just discussing art.”
She suppressed a giggle. “Shall I ring for tea?”
After the tea cart was brought, Brandon dismissed the servant and let Larken pour. He had so much to say, but he didn’t know quite the right way to tell Theo he had a son. Finally, his brother made it easier by asking about Mariah. The strain on his face was obvious.
“H-Have you heard if she’s still in America?”
Brandon cleared his throat. “I have very bad news about Mariah, I’m afraid. She died several months ago in an accident.”
Theo averted his eyes and stared off into space without speaking. Brandon exchanged a worried glance with Larken, but there was little either of them could do to ease the blow. Finally, a mirthless chuckle escaped from his brother’s throat.
“Somewhere in my heart, I always hoped she’d come back to me.” He swallowed. “I s
uppose that sounds pathetic after all this time.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s very human,” Larken said.
“Myles is Mariah’s son.” Brandon said it as gently as possible, but his brother visibly blanched.
“She married, then? The boy must be what…five years old? She must have found someone right after she left me. What happened to the poor lad’s father?”
“Mariah never married, Theo. The boy is yours.”
Whatever reaction Brandon might have expected from Theo, he did not anticipate what his brother said next.
“That’s impossible.”
“What?”
“It’s out of the question, Bran.” Theo’s glance flickered to Larken. “Pardon me for speaking plainly in front of your wife, but Mariah and I were never intimate. I insisted on waiting until after we were married, but the marriage never took place.”
Larken’s eyes widened as she stared at Brandon.
“I know what you’re thinking, but Mariah and I were never intimate either,” Brandon said. “I swear it.”
“Then who is the boy’s father?” Larken asked.
“I don’t know, but he was conceived while Mariah was still in England,” Brandon said. “His birthdate proves it.”
Theo sat back in his chair, stunned. “Then she was unfaithful to us both!”
“Furthermore, she lied to her aunt about the father of her child,” Brandon said. “She told the woman it was Mr. Theodore King of Newcastle, which is how her letter found me. When I read it, I just assumed—”
“I don’t care who the father is. You’re his guardian now, Brandon, and his guardian you’ll stay.” Larken’s vehemence surprised him. “Whether or not Myles is truly your nephew or wholly unrelated, he needs us.”
When he took her hand, he felt her trembling. “Nothing else ever entered my mind, I assure you. I care about the boy as if he were my own.”