On a sigh of exasperation, Kincaid lifted his head from between her thighs and sat back on his haunches. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really want to stop in the middle of our lovemaking to go answer the door.”
“It is the afternoon,” she pointed out. “Besides, what if it’s another client? Another wealthy client.” She arched her eyebrows suggestively. “It would be our third one this week.”
“Only because you let it slip that I am representing the Duke of Hanover.” Reaching around her, Kincaid grabbed his spectacles off the bedside table and slipped them onto his face. As his eyes came into focus, he used them to glare at her. “You never should have that let slip. Sterling requested my discretion.”
“But Sterling isn’t even in London, is he?” she said lightly. “And it’s not as if I put out an advertisement in the paper. I merely told a few people, who told a few other people. You should be thanking me. In less than a month, you’ve seen more business than all of last year. Which reminds me. I think we should put a sign out front. It would lend an air of professionalism and impress our more esteemed clientele.” She spread her hands apart as if the sign was directly in front of her. “Thorncroft and Kincaid, Private Investigators.”
“If you were a private investigator, which you’re not, your name wouldn’t be first on the sign. Furthermore, that isn’t even your–get back here,” he demanded, grabbing her ankle when she tried to slip off the bed. “I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”
Squealing, Joanna let herself fall back onto Kincaid’s hard chest. But when he began to kiss his way down her neck, she resisted.
Barely.
“They’re still knocking. It must be important.”
“It better be,” he growled.
They helped each other dress, Joanna’s layers of garments taking considerably longer to put on, and went to answer the door together.
“Please pardon the delay,” Kincaid began. “We were–”
“EVIE!” Joanna screeched, launching herself at her sister with such force that they were both propelled off the front steps and onto the stone pathway. “What are you doing here?”
Prying Joanna’s arms off her neck, Evie coughed and said, “I could ask you the same thing. I will ask you the same thing.” Her blue eyes flicked to Kincaid, who was standing in the doorway, then narrowed on Joanna. “What are you doing here? Mrs. Benedict said that you’ve moved in. But that cannot be true. Even you wouldn’t do anything so reckless.” She hesitated. “Would you?”
“Come in, and I’ll explain everything.” She pushed her sister past Kincaid, then glanced back him over her shoulder. “You don’t mind if we borrow your office, do you?”
“I–”
“Splendid.” Ushering Evie inside the room (which was now, courtesy of Joanna’s organizational skills, meticulously clean), she shut the door in Kincaid’s face and leaned against it. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you,” she said with feeling, and it was true. Despite the happiness she had found with Kincaid, she’d been unable to escape the vague notion that something was missing. And it wasn’t until the door had opened and she’d seen Evie’s face that she realized she wasn’t missing something, but rather someone.
“I’ve so much to tell you,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I had planned to surprise you when you returned from the house party, but this is even better. Is it done?” Her head tilted. “I could have sworn it was for the entire month.”
“It was,” Evie said shortly. “I left early. Jo…are you…and Kincaid…er…”
“Intimate?” Joanna grinned. “Yes, exceedingly so. But I already know what you’re thinking, and it’s all right.”
“How can sleeping with a man out of wedlock be all right?” Evie cried. “Never mind what it will do to your good name. When Grandmother hears of this–”
“Kincaid and I were married two days after you left for Hawkridge Manor. I should have sent word,” she said in a rush when Evie paled. “But it happened so fast, and it was a small ceremony. There were no guests. Just our two witnesses, Mrs. Benedict and James. We’d like to return to Somerville and have a reception in the summer with you, and Claire, and Grandmother. Maybe even Rosemary could attend, if she wouldn’t mind the travel.”
Evie was silent for such a long while that Joanna began to fret.
“I am sorry,” she began, raising her arms beseechingly. “Please forgive me. You should have been there. I know that. But you’d only arrived at Hawkridge Manor, and I did not want to pull you away so soon, and–”
“James is a cat,” Evie interrupted.
“What?”
“James.” Her sister’s dark brows drew together in bemusement. “You told me that James was a witness for your wedding, but he is a cat.”
“Oh. Yes, well, we couldn’t find anyone else at the last minute and the vicar’s eyesight wasn’t very good, and…” Joanna relaxed when Evie began to laugh. “You’re not angry.”
“No, I’m happy for you. I am. Of course I wish I could have been there, but I understand why I wasn’t, and you’re right, we’ll have a grand celebration this summer. I’m happy for you. So very, very h-happy.” Evie’s voice cracked and, all of a sudden, she wasn’t laughing, but crying.
Stunned, Joanna ran across the room and wrapped her arms around her sister as Evie’s entire body shook with sobs. There were only two times she recalled that Evie had ever cried. Or at least, that she’d seen her cry. The first, when Evie was of school age and a bully by the name of Violeta Arbor had mocked her dress. And the second, when she’d tried out some sort of new cream and her entire face and neck had turned as orange as a carrot.
“Evelyn, what’s happened?” Joanna said, aghast.
Lifting her tear-stained countenance from where she’d buried it the crook of her sister’s shoulder, Evie drew a deep, trembling breath. “I fell in love.”
Had her sister revealed that she’d joined a traveling circus and would be performing with elephants, Joanna might have been more prepared.
“You…you fell in love,” she repeated, slowly and carefully, to ensure that was what Evie had really meant to say.
“Is that so impossible to believe?” Evie asked, lifting her head.
“No, no,” she said hurriedly. “It’s just that…well…I was under the impression you didn’t believe in it. Love, that is.”
“I’ve always believed in it,” her sister sniffled. “I simply didn’t think it was advantageous for me, personally.”
“And now?”
“And now it turns out I was right. Love isn’t advantageous.” More tears brimmed in Evie’s eyes. “It’s awful.”
Taking Evie by the arm, Joanna gently guided her out of the office and across the hall to the parlor. Once plain, barren, and all but screaming “a bachelor lives here”, she had since turned it into a cheerful receiving room for clients, complete with serene paintings of the countryside, calming blue draperies, and a matching set of second-hand furniture upholstered in striped satin and trimmed in rosewood. Sitting her sister on a sofa, she sat directly beside her and clasped their hands together.
“Speaking from experience,” she began, “love is awful. It was for me, at first. But love is also grand. And…and magnificent. And glowing.”
Evie wiped her damp nose with her sleeve. “Do I look like I’m glowing?” she said miserably.
“Well, no,” Joanna admitted.
“That’s because the man I fell in love with just proposed to someone else.”
“Oh.” Desperately, she searched for the right words to bring a glimmer of light to a situation that seemed as dark as it could possibly get. “That’s…”
“Not good.”
“No.” Sometimes, Joanna supposed, there weren’t any right words. There was just pain. To be felt, and absorbed, and reckoned with. “That’s not good at all. I’m sorry, Evie.”
“The worst part is that I didn’t plan to fall in love with him.” She gave a bewildered shake
of her head. “It just…happened. And I thought it had happened to him, too, but it must not have, or else he wouldn’t have asked Lady Martha Smethwick to marry him. Do you know that she is a diamond? I was a diamond, in Somerville. But here…here I’m just stupid quartz.”
Joanna had absolutely no idea what Evie was talking about.
“Quartz is pretty,” she said tentatively. “I love quartz.”
“No one loves quartz.”
“Well I do. And if this man you’ve fallen in love with had an ounce of sense in his head, he would love it, too.” Joanna paused. “Who is he, by the way? A guest at the house party, I presume.”
Evie pursed her lips. “Weston. I’ve fallen in love with Weston. Whom I hate. And don’t look surprised. I told you I wanted to marry him.”
“Wanting to marry someone for their fortune and falling in love with them are two very different things. If I recall, the last time we spoke about Weston, you referred to him as a ‘selfish, domineering, arrogant lout’.”
“He’s all that and more.”
“And yet you love him?”
“I didn’t say I was happy about it.”
Joanna sighed. “Thorncroft women really don’t do anything the easy way, do they?”
Joanna had just gotten Evie settled in the guest bedroom with a cup of hot tea and a slab of chocolate when someone knocked on the door again.
“Who is it this time,” she muttered under her breath as she hurried back down the stairs and through the narrow foyer, James trailing after her like a silent black shadow. Kincaid had stepped out shortly after Evie arrived; as much to give the sisters privacy as to follow a new lead on the Duke of Hanover’s case.
It appeared there’d been a sighting of Hannah, the lady’s maid who had worked for the duke’s mistress…and had disappeared, somewhat suspiciously, a few days before Eloise’s untimely death.
If Kincaid could find Hannah, and question her, it might prove to be the break in the case they desperately needed. For thus far, despite their best efforts, Kincaid and Joanna had been unable to unearth any evidence that pointed at anyone other than Sterling as the murderer. Which was particularly vexing, given that he was innocent.
Someone very clever had gone out of their way to frame the duke…and they’d done an excellent job at covering their tracks.
“I’m almost there!” she called out irritably when the knocking grew louder and more insistent. Despite her earlier insistence that Kincaid answer the door, she was of half a mind to let whoever this was come back at a later time so that she could focus all of her attention on Evie.
She’d never seen her sister in such a state.
Then again, she’d never seen her sister in love. And having just gone through the process herself, Joanna could attest to how painful it could be when things did not turn out how you expected them. Thankfully, she and Kincaid had worked through their differences and she had never been happier. She only hoped that, soon, the same might be said of Evie.
When whoever was on the other side of the door struck it hard enough to rattle the brass knob, Joanna flicked a glance at James. “If it’s someone come to rob us, I’ll grab Kincaid’s pistol from the office and you scratch his eyes out. Deal?”
James gave a loud meow, which she took as a resounding yes.
“Do you know,” she said as she opened the door, “it’s appallingly rude to–you.”
The man on the other side of the threshold frowned at her. “Do I…Joanna. I mean to say, Miss Thorncroft.” Visibly taken aback, he removed his hat and raked a hand through his hair, shoving a wave of inky black off his temple. “I…I…”
“Actually, it’s Mrs. Kincaid now.” Joanna’s smile could have been carved from the edge of a razor blade. “Won’t you come in…brother?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Looking at it now, Weston supposed that he should have expected to see his half-sister at the residence of the man she was romantically involved with. Make that the man she was married to, he corrected himself silently. But from the moment he’d reached London, his only concern had been finding Evie.
He had discovered she was missing when she did not come down for breakfast. Eager to see her, to speak with her, to share his heart with her, he’d gone straight to her bedchamber. But when he knocked on the door, she wasn’t there. Instead, he’d found Hannah, her lady’s maid, in the midst of packing all of Evie’s beloved dresses into a traveling trunk. And he’d known, even before Hannah told him, that she was gone.
“When?” he’d asked tersely.
“Half an hour ago, my lord,” Hannah had replied.
“Did she say anything?”
“She asked me to have her things sent to a boarding house in London, and for me to look after Posy. She…she didn’t appear herself, my lord.” At that revelation, the maid had ducked her head and spoken to the ground as she mumbled, “I would have gone straight to you or Lady Brynne, but Miss Thorncroft asked for my discretion. I…I wasn’t sure what to do.” Anxiously, she’d lifted her head. “I hope I did not do anything wrong, my lord.”
“The only person who did something wrong was me,” he’d said darkly before he spun from the room and ordered the first footman he saw to ready his fastest horse.
After that, everything was a blur until he had arrived in London and gone straight to the boarding house. Evie wasn’t there, but a kind widow named Mrs. Benedict was, and she had directed him on where to go next.
“Mr. Kincaid’s residence isn’t too far,” she’d said. “Just a few blocks. You won’t even need a hackney if you don’t mind going by foot.”
He’d run the entire way. Not stopping to catch his breath…or to consider that Evie wasn’t the only Thorncroft who might be waiting behind the private detective’s door.
“Coffee or tea?” Joanna said pleasantly. She had taken him into her husband’s office and invited him to sit in a chair while she stood behind the desk, as clear a message as any he’d ever received of who was in charge.
“Neither, thank you,” he declined.
“Good. Then you can tell me why you broke my sister’s heart and how you intend to fix it.”
Right to the matter at hand, then.
“I–” He paused when he felt something brush against his pant leg. A glance down revealed it was a black cat with green eyes and bared fangs. As he met the feline’s gaze, it gave a hiss and swatted at his calf. “Bloody hell.”
“James is not overly fond of liars or thieves.” Joanna braced her arms on the desk and leaned towards him. “Given that you’ve already proven yourself a thief, I would strongly advise you against lying.”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Excellent.”
“Where is Evelyn? I need to–”
“My sister is currently resting. I have never seen her this upset. If you’ve done her irreparable harm, Lord Hawkridge, I am afraid I’m going to have to kill you.” While Joanna tempered her threat with a smile, there was no doubt in Weston’s mind that she meant every word.
“I never wanted to hurt Evelyn. I came here to tell her that I…” When his throat tightened, he broke off and stared intently at a blank space on the wall. “The words I want to say are for her to hear. Your sister…your sister has changed me for the better. And I will not lose her.” Distraught, he met Joanna’s steady gaze. “I cannot lose her. Which is why I must speak to her.”
Joanna was quiet for nearly a minute.
Just as Weston was considering if he’d be able to make it to the door before James used his claws and teeth to carve into him like a roasted ham, she finally spoke.
“Evie is upstairs. The second door on the right.”
Relief washed over him. “Thank you.”
“Lord Hawkridge,” she said as he turned to leave the office. “When you are done groveling for whatever it is you’ve done, I should like us to make the time to get to know each other. Aside from you stealing my mother’s ring and breaking my sister’s heart, I’ve
a feeling we might get on splendidly.”
“I…I should like that as well,” he said gruffly and, to his surprise, he really meant it. Where once he could not have cared less if he ever saw or heard from Joanna Thorncroft again, now he wanted to build a relationship with her.
Not because of Evie.
Well, not just because of Evie.
But because family was what you made of it. His father had taught him that, if nothing else. And if Evie would have him…if Evie would have him, he wanted to make something wonderful.
Evie lifted her head off the pillow when a quiet knock sounded at the door. “Come in if you’ve more chocolate,” she told Joanna. “Otherwise I am going to try to take a nap.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t any chocolate,” a deep voice replied as the door swung inward. “But hopefully, I’ve brought you something better.”
On a gasp, Evie scrambled into a sitting position and yanked a pillow against her chest as if it were a shield of iron instead of a soft pile of feathers sewn in cotton. “What are you doing here?” she asked, gaping at Weston. “When–when did you leave Hawkridge Manor?”
“As soon as I realized that you had,” he said simply. His hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers, he regarded her with a vaguely bemused expression, as if he’d been presented with a puzzle that he couldn’t quite solve. “You left me, Evelyn.”
“You gave me no choice, Weston.” Dashing her fingers beneath her eyes to remove any stray tears, she straightened her spine and regarded him with as much composure as she could muster, given the circumstances.
Evie hadn’t abandoned the manor in an attempt to lure Weston away. It was not some grand plan to get him to come after her. Rather, she’d left because she couldn’t physically stand to remain in the same house as the earl…and his future countess. Listening to people congratulate them, raising a champagne glass in their honor…it would have been too much to bear. Seeing another woman wearing her mother’s ring wouldn’t have just broken Evie’s heart. It would have shattered it. And she knew, as clearly as she knew her own name, that she’d never be able to find all the pieces.
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