by Wendy Vella
“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.”
James stared blankly around his parlor after the Sinclairs had left. What the hell had he just agreed to? Lady Wynburg was going to decorate his house and Cam was to move in. Shaking his head, James wondered when he had lost control of the evening, and more importantly, his life. He could do nothing to stop the smile at the memory of Eden resting on his chest. It was time to acknowledge the fact that he wanted her in his life.
He wanted her, yet knew he could not take a gently bred woman to bed without consequences. Did he care about her gift? No. Having her in his life would be beneficial to Samantha and he could make love to her whenever he chose to. He cared for her as much as he was able to care for another person, and surely that would be enough? However, he could not think of marriage with someone set on killing him. Then again, marrying Eden would ensure Samantha was safe if they were successful. Thoughts churning, he went to bed. His last thought as his lids finally grew heavy several hours later, was that surely Eden was practical enough not to expect a love match.
Chapter Eighteen
“I will escort you, Miss Sinclair.”
Eden shot her uncle’s groom a frustrated look. She was used to riding alone, yet here in London she was forced to have a constant companion.
“I am meeting my brother in the park, Cooper, therefore I am sure I can—”
“I will just see you there then, Miss Eden.”
Eden looked at the determined jaw of the groom.
“My aunt and uncle told you to do this, didn’t they?” Cooper merely smiled and fell in behind her as they made their way through the quiet streets of London.
Waking at dawn, Eden had pulled on her riding habit and left the house. After a night spent dreaming of James and her father, she had woken weary and worried, yet determined to talk with Dev. James had been right in this, he did deserve to know, and it would be good to have someone else aware of what she had suffered. Yawning, Eden guided her horse around a cart where enticing smells filled the air.
“What are you selling, sir?” she asked the vendor.
The man lifted his craggy eyebrows, then rubbed the end of his red nose and said, “Pies, my lady.”
“I am a mere miss, sir. Cooper,” Eden turned to speak to her groom, “Do you want a pie?”
“I—ah....”
Cooper appeared to be struck mute by her question, so Eden decided for him.
“I find I am hungry and I know my brother will be. Therefore I think, kind sir, we will take three.” She dug around in the pocket of her habit for some of the coins she always carried, because Dev insisted upon it. Supposedly if she ever got into trouble they would buy her out of it.
“Meat or fruit?” the man said, looking from Eden to the footman.
Eden looked at Cooper, who appeared to have swallowed his tongue, and said, “I will have fruit, however Cooper and my brother will have meat.”
Minutes later, Eden carried Devon’s wrapped pie on her lap while she ate hers.
“Must you ride behind me, Cooper? My neck hurts from twisting to see you.”
The groom nudged his mount forward and fell in beside her, and they ate in companionable silence the rest of the way to the park. Popping the last piece of fruit-laden pastry into her mouth, Eden dusted off her hands then looked around for her brother.
“Can you see my brother, Cooper? The eldest one.”
The groom immediately stood up in his stirrups to look for Devon.
“I see him up ahead, Miss Eden. Just at the end of that stretch.”
Taking several deep breaths of crisp morning air,
Eden filled her lungs and urged her horse forward. Dev was riding alone, steam rising from his horse’s rump as she neared. She loved him, therefore she was biased, but surely he was the most handsome man ever to ride a horse. Eden ruthlessly squashed the image of a certain handsome duke that had popped into her head.
“I had thought to let you sleep in this morning, sister. Last night was very taxing on everyone.”
“I like to ride,” Eden accepted his kiss before handing him the pie.
“What have you done?” Devon said, unwrapping the offering and taking a large bite.
“Why do I have to have done something to bring my brother a pie?” Eden stalled, because now that the time had come to tell him she was no longer sure it was the right decision.
“What’s the matter, Eden?”
She didn’t speak for several seconds, her eyes looking forward, focused intently on something in the distance.
“Talk to me, love, we have no secrets between us,” Dev said, stroking one of her cheeks.
“Dev....”
“Yes?”
“Let’s walk,” Eden urged her mount forward, and he fell in beside her. “Did you ever wonder why I turned to you instead of our father, Dev?”
“Yes, but I never minded, you know that, Eden. I was honored to have you look to me for love and support.”
Eden bit her lip as emotion threatened to choke her. She had to tell him before she could not.
“I love you too, Dev, so much.”
Swallowing the last of his pie, he then held out a hand. Eden took it, gripping it hard and then slowly, haltingly, she began to tell him what their father had done to her. His breath hissed and he snarled but remained silent until she had finished.
“My God, that bastard!”
“He never hurt me, Dev, he just—”
“Made your life a living hell from which you had no escape. Christ, Eden, you should have told me, and if not me then Mother!”
She looked at him then. His eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched.
“I could not, he said he would punish whoever I told, and that the family would suffer. He always spoke of what would happen if our senses were exposed. How we would be ridiculed, treated like circus acts or worse.”
Surprise had Eden gasping as Dev lifted her out of her saddle and settled her before him. His big body shook as he held her close. Her hat went flying as he buried his face in her hair.
“Forgive me, Eden.”
His words were hoarse, his breathing harsh. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she held him as tight as she could.
“It was not your fault, Dev. I did not tell you to punish you, I—I told you because I no longer wanted to carry this burden myself. I am sorry if my selfishness has hurt you.”
James saw Devon and Eden as he rode into the park. They stood in the middle of a stretch of grass with only a groom beside them. Quickly he moved to their side and signaled for the groom to take Eden’s horse’s reins. Murmuring a few instructions, he managed to guide them all beneath some trees where they would be sheltered from prying eyes. Devon’s shoulders were shaking but he was making no sound, unlike his sister who was crying loud, heart-wrenching sobs. It was obvious from their distress that she had taken his advice and told her brother what their father had made her do.
“You could never be selfish, Eden,” Devon finally said, easing his head back to look at his sister. “Were he not dead, I would kill him for what he has done to you.”
Eden sniffed loudly, and James wanted to take her from her brother’s arms and comfort her himself.
“Please, Dev, I do not want you to be angry. I just need to feel at peace. This fear and anger—dear God, it has been destroying me. I have listened to you all talk of him with love and laughter, yet I could feel none of it.”
James agreed with the eldest Sinclair at that moment. He’d kill the bastard who sired her himself were he alive.
“Here, Eden.”
The siblings looked at James in surprise, neither having heard him arrive. It was Devon who took the handkerchief and wiped his sister’s eyes.
“James told me to tell you this, Dev. We talked last night, after I found Samantha crying.”
“I came upon your sister talking to mine, Sinclair, and overheard her discussing her own father.” James took up the explanation as his eyes lingered on Eden’s face.
Her riding habit was soft dove gray with black braid marching in a line down the front. Her hat was missing and her hair bundled into a loose knot on her head. Even with red-rimmed eyes and pale cheeks she was stunning, and his belief that she was the woman for him strengthened. Surely they could live a comfortable life once he had satisfied this need for her.
You are gentleman not an animal, James, he reminded himself.
“Dev, we cannot tell the others.”
James focused on the conversation Eden was having with her brother once more.
“No, I think it best we keep this to ourselves.”
“Should I not have told you?”
“No love, Raven was right in urging you to tell me. In the last few years before his death, I became aware of the man our father was, and I am only sorry that I was unable to protect you from him.”
Eden grabbed her brother’s lapels in a fierce grip, and James thought again about the prospect of having this woman as his wife. Surely he could tame her given time?
“No one knew because he wished it that way. Even Mother, who was closest to him, did not know.”
“She always took the peaceful road, Eden, try not to resent her for that,” Devon said.
“I don’t. I loved her so much, Dev. Yet sometimes I was angry that she did not stop him.”
With a final kiss, Devon placed her back on her horse. “I need to ride hard, Eden. Will you see her back, Raven?”
“Of course.” James nodded. The man looked as if the Devil himself sat firmly on his shoulder. He needed time to digest what his sister had told him.
They watched him ride away, Eden biting her lip and sniffing, James contemplating what to say to someone who was obviously hurting deeply. He had never been good with words or emotions, but he was learning. Samantha was seeing to his education.
“I have been thinking, Eden, and believe the best option for everyone is for us to wed.” The words had come out so quickly it seemed to take her a moment to grasp their meaning.
“What!” When she did, she spun to look at him, nearly unseating herself. His hand shot out to steady her.
“You get on well with Samantha, and if you marry me I will tell no one about....” James waved his hand toward her ears, stumbling to a halt when he saw her expression.
He suddenly had a feeling of impending doom. Had he worded his intent wrongly? It was hard to say, as he could read nothing in her face. The grief of moments before had fallen away to be replaced by a cool facade. Should he have delayed this conversation for a better moment?
“Eden—”
“How kind of you to offer for my hand with the intent that I would be a suitable companion for your sister. Let us also not forget the threat that should I not concede then you will no longer keep our secrets safe, when just last night you promised you would do that without proviso.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I—”
“It can mean nothing else,” she interrupted him.
“I would provide for you and any children we may have. You would want for nothing,” James plowed on, determined to state his case now he had made the decision to do so.
“And what of love?”
James tweaked his necktie, as it was suddenly restricting his breathing.
“Of course if you love me I will—”
“If I love you? How dare you! You bloody arrogant, conceited— How dare you offer for me in such a clod-handed manner.”
“Most women would be honored to have a proposal from me!” James flared, stung by her words. He was a duke, for God’s sake!
“Eden, I am not capable of lov
e, I need you to understand that.” James attempted to explain the man he was. He had bungled the entire proposal, he knew that now. Just looking at Eden’s raised chin told him he would be best to retreat and regroup, but he had never been the type to do either.
“I would never marry a man who wed me only to stop others from knowing what a freak I was,” Eden hissed. “A man who is not capable of love yet will accept the emotion in his wife. A m-man—”
Hell, she was crying again.
“A man who is merely marrying me to care for his s-sister.”
“Eden, you are deliberately misinterpreting my words.”
“Am I, Duke? Then tell me if you could ever love me?”
Why could he not find the right words to say.
“Your sister has my pity, Duke. Because she needs love, and it seems you are incapable of giving her what she most needs.”
“I love my sister!”
Shut up, you foolish man. James could have bitten off his tongue.
She looked at him for long drawn-out seconds before saying, “So it is just me you are incapable of loving then.”
Eden summoned her groom, who was loitering a few feet away trying to appear indifferent to their conversation. Urging her horse into a gallop, she rode away from him. He followed seconds later, trailing behind them until they reached the Wynburg residence. When she was inside the gates, he headed for his own house, wondering how the hell he had got everything so wrong.
Handing his horse to the groom, James stomped inside thinking about Eden. He would have to apologize, but wasn’t sure she would accept it. God, women were complex creatures. His life had been simple and uncomplicated before the Sinclairs had ventured into it. It had also been empty, he reminded himself.
“Your Grace, Mr. Sinclair is now in residence.” Buttles appeared before him.
“Good God, already?”
“It would appear Mr. Sinclair is an early riser, your Grace. As is a Mr. Brown, who is keeping him company in the green parlor,” he added, taking James’s coat and hat.
“And that is all I need for my day to deteriorate further,” James muttered, making his way to the green parlor. Inside he found a large neatly dressed man with blunt features and a bald head talking to Cam. Both rose as he entered.