by Wendy Vella
“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.”
Sama
ntha'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.”