by Wendy Vella
“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 b
owed 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.”