by Vella, Wendy
“Wolf hates lies,” Kate chirped across the table, and Alice realized she’d missed the beginning of that conversation. She needed to stop thinking about Nicholas Braithwaite; nothing could come from her contemplations. He would be in her life now, and she must get used to that until he left it once more.
“As do I,” Nicholas said.
“But sometimes lying is the only way to stop people from getting hurt,” Alice said before she could stop herself.
“True. And yet surely if it is a lie, then you are hurting people more by not speaking the truth?”
He was talking about what she’d done tonight. But Alice could not speak the truth—she’d promised. She thought about her reply while the plates were cleared and the next course placed before them.
“That is true... in part.”
“Which part?” He gave her a small smile. It was nothing special, and nothing like the ones the others in this family used, and yet it made something heavy settle in her chest. Warmth, she realized. Like his kiss, his smile had stirred something inside her.
Stop this!
“Well.” Alice rallied her thoughts. “If someone who is dear to you would be upset about hearing the truth, then surely it is better to keep it from them?”
“It would of course depend on the truth. If it is harmless and has no impact on their lives, then yes, I think you could be right. But if not speaking the truth could impact on them in the future, then no.”
Alice slowly cut into her beef as she prepared an answer.
“The left one is bigger.”
“No, it’s is the exact same size as the others,” Alice said to Kate, who she knew was deliberately needling her.
“It is not. That one there,” Kate leaned over the table and jabbed her fork on the beef, “is smaller.”
“Your table manners leave a lot to be desired, sister.”
“We are among family, they don’t matter,” Kate replied.
“Am I missing something?”
Alice looked at Nicholas; his dark brow was raised.
“My sister likes things uniform in her life. Sometimes she will spend a great deal of time cutting her meat into matching shapes and sizes. Things on her dresser are placed in perfect symmetry also.”
“Must you share all my faults, Kate?” Alice sighed.
“Of course.”
“I do not spend a great deal of time doing it, in fact it barely concerns me—”
“Unless you’re tired, then it concerns you greatly. Remember, I have lived with you my entire life. You are perhaps the most practical, sane person I know who has touches of madness,” Kate said as if they were discussing the weather instead of her character... or lack thereof.
Nicholas’s loud bark of laughter had all eyes focusing on him.
“I’m glad my sisters are entertaining you.”
Wolf gave her one of his gentle smiles to take the sting from the argument they had recently had. Her big brother was a wonderful man, and Alice knew she shouldn’t worry him as much as she did.
“I was just telling him about Alice’s faults, Wolf,” Kate said.
“And you managed to get all those out before the meal has ended?”
“Extremely amusing, Cam.” Alice poked her tongue out.
When Alice and Kate had arrived in London for her first season, it was to find a large family awaiting them, filled with wonderful people they had never met before. Her mother had exhaled, relieved to hand her daughters into her son’s care. She had then gone to visit friends and as yet had not returned.
The sisters had stepped into the family, and it was as if they’d been here their entire lives. Alice loved being part of this… she just wasn’t entirely sure that society was the right fit for her. A country girl, she felt awkward and out of place at the few gatherings she attended.
“Nicholas, do you have any words for us?” Dorrie called, drawing everyone’s eyes and Alice from her thoughts.
“I do. Spell jargoyle. I want an explanation of the word also.”
He hadn’t raised his voice but it carried to all corners of the room.
Alice looked to the twins, Warwick, and Samantha. No longer children, but young adults, they were extremely intelligent like the rest of their family and loved to be challenged. Their heads were now pressed together as they conferred.
“You may have them there,” Dev said. “It’s not a word used in daily conversation, and one I doubt they’d found in books.”
“I read an old book on words not often used anymore. I knew it would come in handy with your siblings.”
His eyes were as black as midnight. Deep and fathomless.
“Jargoyle, and it means to confuse or jumble, and I believe goes back to the seventh century,” Warwick said before his sisters or Samantha could utter a word.
“Believe? Come now, Warwick, that is not good enough,” Cam taunted his youngest brother.
“I would rather you did not jargoyle my thoughts, Cam,” Warwick said, winking.
“Excellent, I had thought that one may be harder. How about ludibrious?”
He picked up his wine, and the large emerald winked at her. Had many Lord Braithwaites worn it before him?
“Cam would understand this word.”
Nicholas snorted as Dorrie spoke.
“Ludibrious is to be the focus of everyone’s jokes,” she added.
“Why, you little—” Cam’s next words were drowned out by a shriek as he lunged at his little sister. She was soon being tickled mercilessly.
“’Tis their way,” she said to Nicholas.
“I know that, thank you, Alice.”
Of course he did, he’d known these people longer than she had.
Alice watched the antics as the other siblings joined in. “They are quite wonderful.”
He didn’t agree or disagree.
“I call Jack Straws, in Spanish!” Warwick Sinclair suddenly cried.
It was a testament to how much time she’d spent with these people that Alice didn’t flinch. At home in the country, it had been just the three Sinclair women, and they’d lived a quiet life for the most part. Here there were many more, and these games were a daily occurrence.
She looked at the man seated across from her, but he didn’t seem confused as to what was happening.
“Only because it’s your favorite game,” Max said.
“I’ll take Jack,” Alice said.
“I’ll take Straws,” Lord Braithwaite added.
“Mine will be in German,” she said, for some reason needing to best him. Needing to gain control of the entire situation. Alice liked to have control.
She’d kissed this man, and that was playing havoc with her peace of mind.
“Wonderful,” he replied, as if everyone spoke German as a daily occurrence. “I shall state mine in Russian.”
“Excellent.” There was a snap to her word. Damn, Alice had never learned Russian. She would be sure to change that.
She flicked each finger slowly. His eyes, which had been focused on Warwick, turned back to look at her fingers, and the breath lodged in her throat.
“I believe finger flicking is the sign of a troubled mind, Miss Sinclair, or so I’ve been led to believe. Care to share your worries?”
Bloody hell.
“I have nothing troubling me, thank you, Lord Braithwaite, it is merely a habit.” Alice was proud of how calm she sounded.
“Stop delaying and play the game, Alice!” Warwick shouted down the table.
“Julius acknowledges Caesar’s kindness,” Alice said slowly, wishing she hadn’t chosen German, as it was definitely not her strong language.
“Well done.” Kate clapped, as did the others. Alice nodded, and waited. She had no doubt this man was intelligent and the challenge would present him no problem, but the small, mean part inside her wished it did.
“Shakespeare talks rambling anecdotal words sweetly.”
His Russian was flawless and rolled off the tongue. Cad! “That ma
de no sense,” Alice said. “Shakespeare is never anecdotal.”
“Oh, it’s meant to make sense, I hadn’t realized.” The look he sent her made heat color her cheeks.
“That was brilliant, Nicholas.”
“Thank you, Warwick.”
“I think he got the better of you there, Alice,” James said.
“I can accept defeat.” She even managed a smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes.
“But it is not comfortable on you, as you are flicking your fingers again, Alice.”
Damn.
Chapter Six
“I often flick my fingers. A simple habit, and one I have done my entire life whilst thinking. Apologies if it is upsetting you, my lord.”
“It does not upset me, I assure you.”
“You lived with Lilly after all,” Dev added. “She has many peculiar habits.”
“I do not!”
“Of course you do, my love.”
“Everyone has faults, Lord Braithwaite,” Alice said, drawing his eyes again.
“I did not suggest finger flicking was a fault, Miss Sinclair, please forgive me if you believe I did.” Nicholas knew they were antagonizing each other because of that kiss.
Both were still off-balance and trying not to show it.
“Are you always stuffy?” She asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A simple question, I thought.”
“On the basis of a few minutes in my company, you’ve ascertained I’m stuffy?”
He hadn’t been stuffy when he’d held her lovely body pressed to his earlier.
“I’m intuitive.”
“Loosely interpreted, I understand that means nosey?” His smile was insincere.
“He has you there, Alice,” Kate crowed.
“I am not nosey!”
“Says who?” Wolf scoffed. “You have to know everything that everyone is doing from the minute you open your eyes.”
“We’re not talking about me.” Her frown was fierce, black brows almost in a line now. “I asked you a question. Have you always been stuffy?”
“Have you always been impetuous?” Nicholas shot back. Did she not realize that with a few words he could ruin her evening by informing her brother where he’d found her?
“I asked first.”
He hesitated... just long enough for Cambridge to join the conversation.
“Actually, he is not stuffy at all. In fact, he’s something of a legend in society for his gilded words and flattering speech, especially among the ladies. I should imagine he is merely on his best behavior now.”
“You make me sound like a glib-tongued popinjay, Cambridge.” Nicholas was uncomfortable with this description of his character.
Yes, he liked women and was polite to everyone he met—especially those he had once treated abysmally—but he was never overtly effusive.
“A legend is rarely a popinjay, Nicholas. My words were flattery, I assure you, considering how unpleasant you once were.”
“Thank you, I believe that will do,” Nicholas said, hoping Cambridge listened, but it was a faint hope at best.
“Unpleasant how?” Kate asked.
Looking across the table, he encountered Alice’s eyes. She must have seen something in his, and suddenly there was a smile that made warmth spread through his chest.
“I don’t want to know about boring Lord Braithwaite anyway. I was just teasing him. Now tell me instead what happened at The Trumpeter today, Cam. I’m thinking I will write an article for your unusual happenings section.”
“Are you really? If it is good enough, we shall certainly publish it.”
“Of course it will be good enough,” she bragged.
She’d drawn Cambridge’s fire as they discussed the newspaper he owned.
He gave her a small nod. She smiled again.
Nicholas watched as she played with the stem of her glass. Her fingers were long and slender, the nails rounded.
What had put her in that street today? Why would she take that risk when Wolf had forbidden her to do so?
Any one of these people would care for this woman in whatever capacity she needed. Her brother would move heaven and earth to see her safe... so why then was she there alone?
Nicholas had no wish to expose her, and yet he also could not turn his back. If anything should happen to her, he would not be blameless. Therefore, he needed to ensure she did not walk about alone in such a place again. But what he needed to do first was to find her reasons for being there.
Is she in some kind of trouble?
Nicholas ate and talked and thought about how he would approach her. So much lay between them now. They must move past that.
When the meal was finished, they made for a parlor where the twins, Samantha, and Warwick would entertain them with music.
“Talk to them about today, Nicholas.” Max moved to his side. “They know people and could help with this. I doubt it is something you can deal with alone.”
Two somethings, actually.
He could not discuss Alice, but he could discuss what he had been told by his housekeeper.
“A problem shared is a problem halved,” Max added.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Do you have a problem, Nicholas?” Cam asked.
“I believe I may, but as yet do not have absolute proof.”
“Good enough for us. We work on gut feeling constantly in this family.”
“Whereas I work on facts.”
“And yet?” Dev said.
“And yet I have a feeling something is wrong,” Nicholas said slowly as he thought through what he wanted to say.
“I tend to agree with him,” Max said. “After seeing that woman and her clear discomfort, I think Nicholas may have a point. I’m just not sure to what degree yet either.”
“What woman?” Dev asked.
Nicholas told them about his housekeeper and her daughter then. About his meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Adley.
“And you believe she was nervous?” Dev questioned.
“I do. Her knuckles turned white where they gripped the door.”
“Which could simply be that you are a peer and she was intimidated by your magnificence,” Cam added.
“Unlikely.”
“He intimidated me when he dealt with her husband,” Max drawled.
“Did he, by jove? I have not seen this side of him as yet, but I did hear a rumor.”
“From who?” Nicholas demanded, glaring at Cam.
“Lady Belinda told Eden that she had heard from the Countess of Ripley that you threatened her husband if he laid a hand on her again in anything but reverence, he would be answering to you.”
He had said those words when he’d found her weeping the day he visited her husband to discuss purchasing a piece of land he owned. She’d had a vivid bruise on her cheek.
“He deserved it.”
“Undoubtedly. It’s my hope you scared him witless. Man’s a bully and a fool, a lethal combination, and not in a good way,” James said, joining the conversation.
“But what purpose would a midwife have to tell a woman her child is born dead when he’s not?” Cam asked. “That is surely a heinous crime?”
“You of all people know what some are capable of when motivated by greed, Cam,” Nicholas said. “I was one of them.”
“Was, but no longer are. We see that, Nicholas; perhaps it is time for you to also.”
Perhaps one day he would.
“There are those who want an heir and can’t have them,” Dev added. “Some people will go to great lengths to have a son.”
“But to break the heart of a mother—”
“Many are governed by greed and status, Cam.”
“I realize that, Dev, but what I want to know is why you believe there is truth behind your housekeeper’s words, Nicholas. Surely she was emotional, having just lost a grandchild,” Cam added.
What did he tell them? I had a dream about the baby. They would think he was mad
.
“My housekeeper is a sensible woman with a sturdy soul. She is not the type to become emotional for no reason.”
“How is it you know this about her? She is, after all, your housekeeper?” James asked.
Max started laughing softly. He knew the answer.
“What?” Cam asked.
“I play cards with my staff for splinters of wood. I have learned much about them in this time.”
“Do you really? My, how you have changed.” Cam smiled. “For the better.”
Nicholas remained silent.
“Tell them the rest,” Max said.
“I don’t think—”
“I do, and they will understand, trust me.”
“What are you not telling us?” Dev asked.
“It is a little complicated.” Nicholas went for honesty.
“Nicholas,” Cam sighed. “Complicated is the Sinclair/Raven motto. We thrive on it.”
“I would really rather not—”
“Does it cast you in a bad light?”
“It could.”
“Excellent. You’ve been a bloody saint for years now, it’s time you did something to tarnish your reputation once more.”
“I am hardly that, Cambridge.”
“A rake, yes, but a good one for all that.”
“I have much to atone for,” Nicholas said, sounding stuffy.
“As do we all, but as we have forgiven you,” Dev said, “and your sister loves you, then perhaps it is time to forgive yourself.”
Could he?
“Yes. Holding on to all that poison cannot be healthy for a person,” Cam said.
“Enough on that, let’s hear about what else is bothering you,” Wolf said.
“I have these dreams... more like visions, actually.”
Suddenly Wolf, James, Dev, and Cam were alert. Eyes focused entirely on Nicholas.
“They tell me things.”
“What kinds of things?” Cam fired the words at him, having lost all of his usual jocularity. He was now deadly serious.
“Truths, things that are about to happen or have happened. Do any of you have dreams like this?”
They shook their heads.
“Then we shall leave the matter there.” He felt foolish for raising it now.