The Cynfell Brothers

by Samantha Holt

  Pressing her dry lips together, she forced herself to breath steadily and looked expectantly at Harris. “You need not wait around.”

  A smile warmed his eyes. A far too handsome smile. She turned her gaze away and focused on the polished black door.

  “I shall avail myself of one of the coffee houses, but I won’t be far away.” He forced her attention back onto him when he motioned to the small establishment on one corner.

  “You need not remain at all. I will be quite safe.”

  “I shall see you once you have finished your meeting with your friend.”

  He said friend as though he knew what she was up to. Yet how could he? The only people who knew of her son were her family—her mother, father, and aunt. She had not spoken to them since she’d been forced to give up her child, and she probably never would again. They certainly wouldn’t tell anyone of her shame.

  No, it was more likely Harris knew she was not simply meeting a friend for tea and gossip.

  He was the most dangerous of creatures—rakish, handsome, and frustratingly intelligent. How annoying that he should be so blessed. He would be much easier to resist if he was a fool.

  “Surely you have better things to do?” she tried, even knowing there would be no dissuading him from playing this role of chaperone. Ridiculous really, considering the only man around considering doing scandalous things to her was him.

  She blinked away the flood of thoughts and realised she’d been staring at his mouth.

  Harris lifted a shoulder. “I’m a man about town. Very little else to do and I’d hardly call escorting a beautiful woman a hardship. Much preferable to a long, lazy morning in bed alone.”

  He emphasised alone.

  Anna had been alone since the age of nineteen. She’d woken up alone every morning since. The few men she’d taken to her bed had never appealed to her enough for her to keep them there.

  However, the thought of waking with Harris and spending a long morning in bed with him rattled her. The images of tangled sheets, firm skin, and long kisses burrowed deep into her mind, and she knew full well she’d be recalling them later tonight once she’d settled into bed.

  “I shall see you shortly,” she said curtly as she turned away.

  From the prickling sensation down her back, she knew he watched her as she took the few steps up to the door and pulled the bell, but she refused to look back. The last thing she needed was to be distracted by that man. She was here for her son, nothing more.

  After several years of searching for him, she was so close. Her private investigator had traced the adoption of her son from an orphanage in London. But they’d been unable to find any trace of them—until now. This family had returned recently from America and the rumour was their son was adopted from the same orphanage.

  A maid answered the door and let her in. The nanny greeted her and showed her into a small parlour at the back of the house. A few children’s toys—a spinning top and a wooden train—were scattered on the floor but there was no sign of the children.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” she said as the nanny—a Miss Willis—motioned for her to sit by the window. Tea and a few biscuits were already laid out.

  The woman—a few years younger than her and dressed primly with a neat knot in her hair—gave a soft smile. “You’re not the first woman to have given up a child, and I’m afraid you won’t be the last. I would like to help however I can.”

  “I was not sure you would answer my letter,” Anna admitted. “I have a private investigator trying to find my son, but I did not think you’d appreciate a gentleman asking you questions.”

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, thank you.” Miss Willis was a delicately pretty woman, though her hair was more of a mousy colour than would be considered wholly attractive. But she had a softness to her that she imagined attracted many a man but also helped her when looking for positions as a nanny. She certainly appeared the sort to care well for a child.

  “Where are the children?”

  “They are both napping. We have a strong routine here. Mr Lawson wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s a very regimented man.”

  “And he won’t object to you entertaining visitors?”

  “Mr and Mrs Lawson are in the country currently, and the serving staff are very kind.” Miss Willis lifted her cup and took a sip. “Do not fear, Miss Dubois. I would not have offered to meet with you here had I thought it would be endangering my job. Whilst nannies are well sought after, not every household is as well kept.”

  The look she gave Anna told her all she needed to know. The nanny was well looked after here, but she’d wager—much like the women at Stourbridge who had been in service—that she had experienced behaviour that no woman should. Perhaps that was why she was so willing to help her. Women who had been wronged by men tended to stick together.

  Anna stirred some extra sugar into her tea in the hopes it would help calm her. As much as she knew not to hang her hopes on this one meeting, it was the first time she’d had any information on her son. If Miss Willis had looked after her son, she’d be so much closer to tracking him down.

  “Miss Willis, what can you tell me about the family you worked for previously? Lord and Lady Marvelle?”

  “Of course.” She placed the cup on the saucer and gave her a tight smile. “I was working for a family here when the position was advertised. The family had been in America for some years.”

  Anna nodded. Her investigator had told her as much, which was why she’d not been able to find any trace of her son and where he’d gone. If the child was hers, that was. There was still no evidence he’d definitely been adopted.

  “The family I was working for were rather demanding so when I saw the advertisement, I thought it a fine opportunity to travel and the pay was excellent, particularly as they only had the one child.”

  “So you applied.”

  “Yes. I have good references and education, and they were very particular about wanting an English nanny. I met with Lady Marvelle when she came briefly back to England and travelled over with her once she offered me the job.”

  “And their child...”

  “A little boy. He turned eight shortly before we returned to England.”

  Anna’s heart gave a little jolt, in spite of the fact she already knew the child was the right age. “Can I ask, did the child look like either of his parents? Did you ever hear word of him having been adopted?”

  The nanny shook her head. “No one uttered a word but then few people in Boston knew them well. All the Americans cared for were their titles and little else. Alfred was a sweet child but looked nothing like his mother. I suppose he could have taken after his father.”

  Swallowing, Anna placed down the cup which was beginning to shake. “Did he look at all like me?” she blurted out.

  Miss Willis eyed her for some time. “Well, he was dark-haired, to be sure. Green eyes, though.”

  Anna’s chest tightened. “But there was never any word of her being adopted? Surely, they would have said something to you?”

  “Not a word.” Miss Willis eyed her seriously. “Miss Dubois, these noble folk do not like to admit when they are not perfect. As charitable as it is to adopt a child, they’re more than likely to conduct some sort of ruse to cover up an adoption. If Lord Marvelle is­­—” she leaned in and lowered her voice “—infertile, he certainly wouldn’t want anyone questioning as much.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “I don’t really know what else to say. I wish I could tell you for certain but to my mind, they were never particularly attached to him.” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “I was deeply saddened to have my position ended there, but they felt the need for a replacement now Alfred is older.” Miss Willis tapped the cup, a crinkle appearing between her brows. “You know, I suspected there was something strange to their bond so when I got your letter, it sealed my suspicions.”

  “I see.” Anna glan
ced at the mantle clock. She had not been there long, but there was little point in remaining if the nanny could tell her nothing else. If she hurried, she could meet with the investigator and discuss their next step. “I had better leave you in peace. Thank you for your time.”

  Anna stood and Miss Willis followed suit. She escorted her to the door. “I do hope you find your son and, Miss Dubois, if Alfred is your son, I would make every effort to get him back. Those people do not deserve a sweet child like that.”

  Chapter Five

  Harris waited at the bottom of the steps to the house, lounging against the pillar at the side. He straightened as soon as he heard the door shut and scowled. Anna hardly looked at him. Her face had an ashen cast to it.

  “Anna?”

  She waved a dismissive hand at him, her gaze refusing to connect with his. He thought he spotted tears, but she turned her head away too quickly. What the devil had happened in there?

  When she reached the bottom of the steps, she brushed past him and carried on down the path. Harris blinked and hurried to catch up.

  “Anna?” he tried again.

  “I just need to walk.”

  Torn between making her stop and tell him what was wrong or letting her continue, he opted for remaining at her side. She appeared to be in shock. For once, he decided not to push her. That might work to break down her walls normally but he’d never seen her like this.

  He swung a glance sideways. Age seemed to haunt her face suddenly—and she was hardly a haggard creature. But her usually soft skin appeared lined and grey, as though some very great weight pulled down upon her. For the life of him, he didn’t know what to do—a rare occurrence indeed. He shouldn’t be surprised really. Anna had had him tied up in knots since the first time he had set eyes on her.

  They walked in silence, passing several side streets until they were not far from Victoria Park. The chill from the morning had begun to ease and the traffic decided to do the same, now that most people were at work and the early morning market buyers had conducted their business. He was grateful for as much when Anna crossed the wide road abruptly, causing him to have to dart across after her.

  Anna paused outside the wrought-iron gates of the park. A few nannies with children were gathered on the grass. It was a little early for anyone else who would seek to enjoy a little leisure time. Lord knows, Harris was rarely up at this time. Though a few cyclists weaved their way past the lake and some elderly couples occupied benches while they looked out over the expanse of water. Anna appeared unsure as to what to do next.

  “Are we to go in?” he asked.

  Her gaze finally snapped to his. Some clarity came back to her eyes. Then she peered back through the railings at the children on the grass. The sadness tugging at her mouth made his heart tighten. If she cried, he did not know what he would do.

  Normally, if a woman cried, he’d attempt to cheer her up with flattering words. A comment on her beauty and how it could not be spoiled by a few tears perhaps. Something about how much of a shame it would be to ruin such an exquisite gown with wet tears. Usually that elicited a weak smile and a few more charming words would snap the woman in question out of it.

  But not so with Anna. There was no chance she would be swayed by a few simple words of flattery. The woman was frankly far too intelligent.

  Carefully, as though approaching a stallion that might bolt at any moment, he opened up his hand and rested it lightly upon her shoulder. “Anna, I’d like to help,” he said softly.

  There. A weak smile. No words of flattery needed, as he had rightly assumed. He didn’t dare do much more lest she actually run off like a horse.

  “I just received some bad news, that is all. Forgive me.” Her words were slightly hollow.

  He had to assume this friend had some illness perhaps, or had brought news of a death of someone. What else could cause such a reaction?

  “What can I do to help?”

  She lifted a slender shoulder. It struck him then how fragile she could be. Anna Dubois always appeared commanding with her chin thrust out and her shoulders held back. When he’d first met her, she’d been in command of an establishment filled with men yet there was no doubting she was utterly in control. Her height added to the impact of her presence. No one could doubt that Anna was a powerful woman and quite the foe if she chose to be.

  Now, however, he had the strong urge to pull her against him and protect her from whatever pain she was suffering. This was not a new notion. He was excellent at jumping into action and solving problems. Or at least attempting to. That was what had got him shot in the first place—assisting his brother with his plans to protect Lila. The truth of it was, he’d have followed his brother anywhere, and he’d likely do the same for Anna.

  Sad, dark eyes connected with his. “There is little to be done.”

  Instead of dragging her to him as he wanted to do, he took his palm away from her shoulder and casually took her hand. She did not resist him. He looped her arm through his and rested her palm against his forearm.

  “Let us get a little exercise and fresh air,” he declared.

  Anna did not resist. Perhaps she had no will to or maybe no strength. It startled him just how frightening he found the idea of Anna being weak. Not because of any preconceived notions of her but because of how terribly he wanted to protect her and solve her problems. And the awareness that she would never let him did not help.

  Blasted women. As near as he could tell, the Cynfell men had a thing for independent, stubborn women. All of his brothers’ wives were the same—so determined to do everything alone. The difference between his brothers’ wives and Anna is that none of them had built up a business specialising in sin and pleasure.

  They did a loop of the park in silence, but Harris sensed the tension easing from her. Even he couldn’t help feel revived by the fresh air and the gentle exercise. Birds flittered between the elegant oak trees that lined the path and to the right of them ducks splashed in the water. The trill of a bicycle bell cut through the laughter of children so they stepped aside to let the rider past.

  “I haven’t walked this much in quite some time,” he commented.

  Anna’s eyes widened. “I am sorry. Shall we find somewhere to sit down?”

  He shook his head. “It was not a complaint. My leg is perfectly fine. I will confess, however, the forced inactivity was driving me quite mad. I’m looking forward to being fully healed and able to exercise to my heart’s desire.”

  They began their walk once more, Anna still resting her hand lightly on his arm. Harris imagined that to anyone else they would appear like a married couple, taking an early morning stroll. Little did they know that he was a Cynfell brother—a group of men who were notorious for their scandalous ways—and that Anna ran one of the most sinful places in existence. To everyone else, they were wholly respectable.

  Not that respect had ever interested him particularly. His older brothers—with the exception of Julian who had all the pressure of the title to deal with—had always lived on their own terms. While they might have settled down and become staid old boring fellows now, they’d certainly had a fine time as far as he was concerned. It was too easy to worry about what others thought, and a big waste of effort to his mind. Still, he rather enjoyed playing this role, even if for a short time.

  “What would you normally do for exercise?” Anna asked.

  “Riding mostly. I helped break in a few of the horses on the Lockwood estate.” He smiled. “You can’t beat riding across the Warwickshire countryside.”

  “I never pictured you enjoying the countryside.”

  “I am a townie at heart that is true, but I do enjoy visiting Lockwood—our family home. Of course Julian is busy creating a whole new generation of Cynfells which always makes things fun.”

  “How many children does Julian have now?”

  “Three. One girl and two boys. The latest was born only a month ago.” He chuckled. “I don’t imagine they shall stop there
. They seem determined to repopulate England with their children.”

  There was a slight slump to Anna’s shoulders. It occurred to Harris, far too belatedly, that Anna would likely never marry or have children of her own. He couldn’t say either appealed to him, but women were different. There were likely many men who did not have rank or reputation to consider that would happily marry Anna...and he did not like that thought. However, Anna was such an enigma that he doubted anyone could get close enough to her to even propose such a thing. Selfishly, he was grateful for that.

  “My brother Pierce boxes,” he piped up in an attempt to clear the discomfort now floating about between them like the thick yellow fog that sometimes came off the Thames. “He did it professionally for a while.”

  “Oh yes, I met him shortly before he started doing it. I heard he was quite the fighter, why did he stop?”

  “A woman, of course.”

  She nodded with a wry smile. “Of course. The countess. I do not blame him particularly, she’s a fascinating woman. She came to Stourbridge once, though I have not seen her since. I suppose that is what marriage does to one. One gives up doing the things one enjoys.”

  Harris lifted both brows. He’d expect such talk from many a man...hell, he’d even said as much himself. His parents had suffered the most miserable marriage and that had likely impacted all of them, but somehow his brothers had been foolish enough to be coaxed into the married state. He hoped it all worked out for them—and it certainly seemed to be—but he did not wish for such a thing himself.

  “You sound like a rakish bachelor, Anna.”

  “I am no female rake, but I thoroughly intend to be a spinster. I see little benefit in ever marrying. It is well enough for a man, he has to give up little.”