The Secrets Of The Sixth Night (The Northumberland Nine Series Book 6)

by Dayna Quince

Color filled her cheeks and she licked her lips again. He was tempted to kiss her, but the weight of his own unsatisfied desire would not let him end this encounter with just a kiss.

  Callen was going to have to let her go.

  He eased away from her, putting his weight on his hands to slowly push himself up, careful of his wound.

  He brushed her skirts down over her brown leather boots, and he caught a glimpse of her thick plain stockings. They were the same boots she'd worn that night they’d been caught on the beach. She'd been out looking for herbs and had complained about her feet getting wet. Callen could see why. They were nearly worn through at the toes.

  Callen made a mental note to buy her new boots and expensive silk stockings. He'd buy all of them new boots. She'd saved his life, and he was going to break her heart eventually, he reminded himself. No, he was going to do the impossible and make sure he wouldn't have to.

  He was going to change the course of both their lives.

  If it was the last thing he ever did.

  Callen helped her to her feet and she slid off the bed, still flushed and looking every bit like a woman expertly satisfied. He turned away to hand her the satchel and adjusted himself in his breeches.

  “I should really be going now.”

  "I'm afraid so. I might keep you here for the rest of the day,” he warned.

  Luna smiled as if she might like that idea. But she accepted her satchel from him and moved to the door. She glanced back once, still with that mysterious smile, before she unlocked it and stepped into the hall.

  Chapter 15

  It was that moment Callen knew he was ruined.

  It took every ounce of his willpower not to follow her, not to call her back into this room and make his threat a promise. He was losing his grip, and without a definitive outcome, he could not let himself get carried away. But there was so much uncertainty until Coombs returned with news of Sir Kirby.

  He was stuck. He couldn’t make any promises to her. He couldn’t offer for her. He'd already told her that he couldn't be with her, hadn't he? She'd asked him when his mission would be over, and he'd said it might never be over because he couldn't envision a life where he didn't have to be at the constant ready to defend his brother.

  He was so tired of it.

  Tired of the suspense, tired of the stress, and tired of getting nothing in return. Theo didn't even appreciate how much Callen did for him. Well, from this moment on, he'd stop. He was not going to be his brother’s defender anymore. Not when Luna was so much more deserving. His brother had never wanted to be his responsibility. He'd said more than enough times that he was his own man, and the only one who insisted he needed help was Callen.

  Then why did he always come to Callen for help?

  He sat in the chair by the hearth and held his head in his hands. His groin throbbed, but the pain was fading. It was time to cut the apron strings, and suddenly, Callen knew the answer. He could help his brother leave because it was Theo that Judge Blackwood was after, but Callen didn't have to go with him. He could set up an allowance to be issued to a bank account in Theo's name somewhere in Europe or wherever his brother ended up. From there, he would live his own life. Callen would support him—not totally, but with a respectable amount—because they were family, and until Callen had his own heir, Theo was the next to inherit, which was a nightmare in and of itself.

  Callen felt lighter as he stood and put on a fresh clean shirt. He didn't even have to wait for Coombs, he could just send his brother away. Give him a purse with coin, instructions regarding his allowance, and then wish him well. Then Callen could stay. He could turn his focus and loyalty to Luna, someone who actually needed him, not only to help her family rise from poverty, but to listen to her, to believe in her, and to make our dreams come true.

  Callen was infused with a renewed sense of urgency. His heart raced as he finished dressing. All he had to do now was speak to his brother, and it wasn't a conversation that should be held within screaming distance of anyone. He didn't know how his brother would take it. Sure, his brother often argued he didn't need a nursemaid, and Callen would readily argue otherwise. But from now on, it wouldn't be him and Theo should be happy about that.

  But he might not be.

  He might not like that he was being turned out on his own, that he would no longer be the center of the universe. He certainly liked to earn himself lots of attention. But it wouldn't be attention from Callen, and he would also be saving Miss Nicolette potential heartbreak.

  If he made his brother leave soon.

  The ship was already waiting, all Theo had to do was get on it, and he could start a new life.

  He could start over somewhere in France or the Mediterranean. Wherever he wanted. Callen didn't care as long as he was gone from here.

  By the time Luna reached her room, she was nearly faint. Her pulse raced, drumming in her ears as she forced her heavy limbs to move. Her muscles seemed to turn to sand after Callen's expert sensual torture. She had no idea when she entered that room to see to his wound that she would be leaving in this state.

  She had gone up worried about him, and then after she'd replaced the bandage hoped he might kiss her again. They were alone, after all, which was becoming a rare occasion, thanks to his brother. And yet, the moment had been magical, as if fate had orchestrated the entire event, and she didn't know what she ought to do next. In her room, she caught her reflection in the dressing table mirror and stared.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dreamy. She was a woman ravished by desire, and she didn't know how to hide these feelings from her sisters—not that anyone was paying particular attention to her.

  Everyone seemed rather preoccupied with themselves. She would've thought during such an odd event, a house party where they were meant to be courted by gentlemen, they might at least convene every once in a while and check in with each other. But no, they were all too occupied living separate lives from each other for quite possibly the first time ever.

  Is this what it would be like once they married? Dare she think it? If she married Callen, she had to accept she would leave her home. Where did he live? These are questions she should probably ask him, but she didn't want to presume too much. It was very clear they shared an attraction. And she now knew she was falling for him, feeling things she'd never felt before. Was it the same for him, or was this just an attraction? This could be routine for him.

  No, she wouldn't think it.

  She could imagine his brother as someone who seduces without thought but not Callen. He was kind and considerate, responsible. He wouldn't be doing any of this if he didn't mean it. If he was just as caught as she was in this… Whatever it was. She was still afraid to think it, to even utter the word.

  It seemed too good to be true, but she wanted to believe, she wanted to be bold, and why shouldn't she? After today, after she barged into his room days ago, boldness had served her rather well.

  She was going to do it.

  She turned away from her dressing mirror and toward the full-length mirror. Luna could see all of herself. She was going to confront her feelings, head on. Luna looked into the mirror, into her own eyes. If she didn't have her sisters to confess this to, at the very least, she'd confess it to herself.

  “I'm falling in love with him,” she said to her reflection and was startled by her reflection’s response. The woman staring back at her was smiling, her face aglow, even though her hair was a mess and her bodice not quite straight. She was happy. She was more than happy. She was giddy with happiness, joy filling her. Luna felt as if she could float, as if she could jump straight into the air and stay there. That's what Callen made her feel. All the uncertainty, the unknown variables that lingered in the shadows—his mission, his brother—none of that could bring her down. Not yet. She touched her face. Her reflection was smiling because she was smiling.

  She was in love.

  Luna stood there, grinning like a fool for a moment more. Then she was going to fix
her hair and rejoin her sisters in the Queen’s drawing room where they had decided to play games until it was time for tea.

  That evening, after the house was dark and even the billiard room was quiet and empty, Luna went to Callen's room. When the door opened, it wasn't Callen's face she saw.

  Mr. Denham answered and waved her in with a hand that dangled a crystal cut glass filled with amber liquid from his fingertips.

  And he was clearly inebriated.

  Luna could smell it on his breath as she passed him.

  She walked through a perfumed cloud of brandy and ignored his sarcastic greeting. Callen sat in the chair by the hearth in breeches and an open robe, half of his chest showing.

  She couldn't stop herself as her gaze dropped to the exposed golden skin.

  The delights of the afternoon returned to her as though Mr. Denham wasn't even there, even though she could hear him muttering some imaginary conversation they seemed to be having between each other.

  Mocking her, as usual.

  Callen stood. His gaze met hers, and in his eyes she could see a secret smile just for her.

  He was remembering too.

  He shrugged off the robe as Luna sat her satchel down on the floor and kneeled to retrieve its contents. She set the salve and the strips of bandages she'd already torn on top of the small round table beside the chair. Mr. Denham, Theo, as she'd begun to think of him, however, disdainfully came over to them and leaned an elbow on the mantle as he watched her.

  “You know, I'm certain I could do this just as well as you, if it's only changing the bandage and whatnot.”

  “What fun would that be?” Luna returned with a smile. “I so enjoy our time together, these little intimate moments between the three of us.”

  “Is it possible that sarcasm is hereditary?” Theo asked.

  Luna shrugged as she began to remove Callen's bandage. She couldn't help it if her hands seemed to drag along his skin, absorbing as much touch as possible in these brief moments they had tonight. She could feel his gaze on her. She peeked up and met his eyes. He raised a brow as if he'd caught her and knew exactly what she was about.

  “If you ever make it to a ballroom in London, you will have to temper that sharp tongue of yours,” Theo said.

  “I'm not concerned about what people in London think of me,” Luna replied. “Except for a precious few.”

  Callen winked at her.

  Luna swallowed a giggle.

  “I'm betting I'm not one of them, not to you, at least. For sisters who look so alike with your stunning dark hair and those eyes—my, I never knew brown eyes could be so beautiful.”

  Luna's hand slowed as she unwound the last strip of bandage from Callen and pulled away the pad. She knew he wasn't talking about her. He would never compliment her like that. But he may think that about Nic. It wasn't said as a compliment to Nic but to goad her.

  She bit her tongue.

  He wanted her to argue with him. That was the only reason he was behaving as he was.

  “Like coffee drizzled with stripes of caramel, no…” His voice drifted off. “Like velvety chocolate dribbled with caramel,” he continued. “Callen, do you remember those chocolate truffles they serve at the Fairy Circle?”

  Under her ministrations, Luna felt Callen stiffen, and she could feel heat coming off his body. She peered up, and he was glaring murderously at his brother.

  Luna grimaced and went back to her work, prepared to ignore whatever Theo said next.

  “Do forgive me, I'm certain you are not aware. The Fairy Circle is a gentleman's establishment, rather…a brothel, to paint an accurate picture for you.”

  Luna's hands froze as she stared at Callen's wound, not even seeing the pink flesh before her. She blinked several times and refocused on it, trying to feel something good instead of this cold anger that wrapped itself around her.

  But all she could see was Callen in some mysterious brothel with a tacky interior and half-naked women draped over his lap. She couldn't even be pleased by the healthful color of his wound, a sure sign that he was healing rapidly. She bit her tongue and forced her hands to complete her work without responding to his brother’s taunts.

  Callen said nothing. Not that there was much to say.

  Perhaps he just didn't want to say it in front of her to protect her sensibilities. Luna swallowed down the bile in her throat and began to rewrap the bandage. All the while Theo waited in silence.

  “Did I shock you? My apologies,” he said at last.

  Luna tucked in the first strip and turned to face him. “Does it shock me that you would visit a brothel? Not at all. Many men who can't find companionship with willing women will turn to paid companionship.”

  His face blanked as if he couldn't quite believe she'd insulted him.

  Callen chuckled behind her as she stared his brother down.

  He pushed away from the mantle and strolled toward her. Callen stopped chuckling. Theo wasn't looking at her. He was looking over her at Callen, and there was some silent war taking place between them. Luna was tired of being Theo's tool to poke his brother, and that was exactly what he was doing.

  Using her.

  Well, she wasn't going to be used by anyone, and she suspected that was why he appeared to have an interest in Nic. He wanted to use her too.

  “I wonder if Nicolette enjoys your stories as much as I do,” she said quietly. “The Fairy Circle… What an unusual name? Tell me, do the women dress like fairies?” she wondered aloud. “Nicolette might find that amusing. Her favorite play is a Midsummer's Night Dream, and her preferred role was queen of the fairies as it so happens. She might be interested to hear about such a place.”

  Theo's gaze snapped to hers. “Why don't you ask her?” He threw his glass into the fire and the flames doubled in size, glass everywhere.

  “Out Theo,” Callen growled. Luna backed up into him, his hand coming to her shoulder. Theo's gaze dropped to Callen’s hand and his eyes narrowed.

  “No, I don't think I will, brother. Do you think you can make me? At full strength”—he shrugged—“probably. Though I think I'm gaining on you in strength. But right now with a hole in your side? I think I can win. Would you like to see that Luna?”

  Luna didn't want to be frightened, but she'd never seen siblings taunt each other like this. Her own sisters may have resorted to fisticuffs on very rare occasions. But there was always love behind even their most angry words. These two brothers were like strangers.

  And right now she was the only thing standing between them.

  Directly in the current of pain and anger that flowed between them. Luna felt it all and it made her profoundly sad for both of them. How could these two ever heal if they had no common ground?

  She surprised even herself as she walked toward Theo. He seemed momentarily stunned as she reached up and cupped his cheek. His eyes flared, like an animal cornered.

  “Whatever it is that is hurting you, you won't find relief in the bottom of a glass or the arms of a woman, especially a woman like my sister. She will ask for more than you can give her. Whatever has been done, just ask for forgiveness. You can make it right.”

  He stepped back out of her hold and glared past her to his brother.

  “What have you told her? You had no right to tell her anything.”

  Luna twisted to glance at Callen, and he was shaking his head.

  “I haven't told her anything. She can read you. You're not exactly…discreet with your emotions or your actions.”

  “To hell with both of you,” he said with a snarl.

  Callen charged forward and Luna planted herself in front of him, hands on his chest to stop him. She glanced at his brother to see if she was going to be caught between the two, but he was already at the door and he slammed it behind him.

  That was surely going to wake the other gentlemen if not the whole castle.

  Luna cursed and went to gather the rest of her things, forgetting his bandage wasn't even finished.


  “We’re going to be discovered,” she said.

  “Maybe not. He doesn’t want us discovered. The others might just assume we've had another argument. We tend to do that a lot.”

  “I've noticed,” Luna muttered.

  “What did you mean when you talked about his wound?” he asked.

  Luna finished packing her satchel and approached him with the last strips of the bandage. He spread his arms, and she quickly wrapped them around him, and he waited in silence for her to respond.

  “He is lashing out,” she said, “like a wounded animal. I suspect he's been doing it for some time. That is the reason he is the way he is. He has an invisible wound.”

  “Don't we all?” Callen murmured.

  “But I think you've addressed yours. At the very least, you have an awareness. He ignores it and it festers, spreads into every part of his life. He's angry at everyone instead of the one person he truly must be angry at.”

  Callen stayed silent, his lips clamped together.

  Luna finished the bandage and stepped back. She raised her gaze to his face, wishing she could comfort him, rid the room of the specter of Theo’s anger, but she wasn't sure that much interference would be accepted by either of them.

  His physical wound she could treat, but this thing between these two brothers was deep and as tainted as the Thames. It would take a miracle to cleanse it, and she wasn't trained in miracles.

  Chapter 16

  Just as Luna was about to reach for the doorknob, a knock pounded from the other side. Luna froze, afraid to breathe. She glanced over her shoulder at Callen, and he waved her away from the door. He directed her to the bed and motioned for her to get down on the other side. She scurried to the opposite side of the bed, ducked down, and prayed it wasn't either of their hosts, the duke Weirick or Roderick, his brother.

  “Just a moment,” Callen said aloud. He pulled on his dressing gown and strode to the door.

  Luna peeked around the foot of the bed. She couldn't see the door so she scooted back and peeked over the counterpane, praying she wouldn’t be seen by whoever was there. Callen was speaking to someone in whispers. Luna could hear no more than the rumbling of their baritone voices.