by Wendy Vella
He hadn't thought about that when he'd overheard Lady Dalton say one of her performers had pulled out. Offering Eden's name had been instinctive. He'd never heard a voice like hers before, and wanted to do so again. As he watched Viscount Lindsay sit straighter in his seat when Eden stepped up to the piano, he realized he'd made a mistake. He'd singled her out, and now every man present knew who she was.
That should be a good thing, James, he reminded himself. Because once she was married, he would never be able to kiss her again. On this depressing thought he returned his attention to the performance that was about to begin.
Candles surrounded the small platform, casting a soft glow over the siblings. Dev stood to her right. His eyes lifted briefly and he found James, and that look told him all he needed to know. It seemed Lord Sinclair was not happy with him for singling his sister out. He stared back, not intimidated by a few dark looks. He'd cut his eye teeth on those from his father.
He watched as Eden glanced through the music before her. She winced as someone laughed loudly and he wondered if she was unwell. She then nodded to her brother and began playing, and he could think of nothing else.
James loved music, it was the only thing his father had forced him to do that he'd actually received pleasure from. Eden was brilliant, each note pitch perfect as her fingers flew over the piano keys. He dragged his eyes from her to look around the room. No one moved, indeed no one appeared to breathe as she sang. Hers was indeed the voice of an angel. When she ended the applause was loud and genuine.
“More!”
“More!”
He watched Eden briefly shut her eyes as the audience called for more. Her brother leaned closer, his stance protective, and James studied her face. Was she pale? He was sure she’d just flinched again. Could she be in some kind of pain?
They made a handsome sight, the two siblings. Devon was tall and broad, his black locks cropped short, dressed in a dark evening jacket, white shirt, and necktie. He was the perfect foil for his sister's beauty.
James wondered again what drew him to her. Her beauty, yes, but many had that. It was the innocence she carried; untainted by society, she was open and honest and that was rare in his world. There was also her courage. To have done what she had, diving into the water to save him, had taken an act of incredible and selfless bravery, and he would never forget that.
Much too soon she drew the song to an end and the applause was equally as loud, however this time she did not play another. Rising, she sank into a very correct curtsey, then taking her brother’s arm she slowly returned to her seat. Both siblings avoided looking his way.
“Well!” Lady Dalton said. “I think after that performance everyone else will be sadly lacking, therefore refreshments are available for those who wish to partake, and then the dancing shall begin.”
James regained his feet.
“I want a word with you, Raven.”
He'd known it would not be long before a Sinclair approached him. The dark avenging eldest of the clan glared at James, and he wondered briefly what it would be like to have someone care about you as much as this man obviously did for his siblings.
“What appears to be the problem, Sinclair?”
“Never again single one of my sisters out the way you did tonight. They are new to society, and have no wish to be thrust to the forefront before they are ready.” The words were spoken softly, but the intent was there. Devonshire Sinclair was angry.
“Sinclair, your sisters are beautiful. They'll be in the forefront without even trying.”
They both turned to watch Essex and Eden, who were being introduced by Lady Dalton to a group of people. The men looked extremely happy, the women did not.
“Be that as it may, it is not your place to do what you did. Eden is—she is different.”
“In what way?” James studied Devon. He looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“It matters not in what way, only that she does not like crowds or noise, and most especially has no wish to perform as she did tonight.”
“Society is not the place for her then, Sinclair, as it's filled with both noise and crowds. Furthermore, she plays and sings better than anyone I know, and it would be a crime not to share that.” James was being honest, she did. The fact that he liked to watch her sing and play did not enter the conversation.
“What my sisters do is my concern alone. Never again take the liberties you did tonight.”
“I am a duke, Sinclair, don't forget that fact.” James felt his temper rise at the man's tone.
“And that is supposed to intimidate me? My sister and I saved your life, Raven, and history suggests so did several of my ancestors for yours, so I think it is safe to say I will probably never forget you until I draw my last breath.”
If he were a dog, James knew his hackles would be rising.
“Your title means very little to me, Raven, other than the fact that it's probably because of it that my siblings and I are diff—”
Sinclair's words stopped abruptly, and James had a feeling he thought he'd said too much. “Different?”
“It matters not, just don't take liberties with my sister again. I hope we are clear, Raven.”
Oh, I'd like to take liberties with her.
Looking at the clenched jaw before him, James was pleased he'd managed to keep that thought in his head.
He understood Sinclair's words completely, but that didn't mean he liked them. People did not speak to him that way—in fact, only the Sinclairs appeared to believe they had that right.
“Was that a threat?”
“Take it as you wish, but considering you once said you are indebted to us, one would think you had every wish to please us.”
“I do owe your family a great deal, but that does not mean I will stand aside weakly and let you challenge me in such a way.” James controlled his anger. He'd learned long ago that losing his temper achieved nothing.
“Challenge,” Sinclair scoffed. “Me, a lowly baron, challenge a mighty duke.”
James was not used to being mocked either, unless, of course, he was near a Sinclair.
“What is going on between you and Cam?”
The change in subject was swift, as most of this family's conversations were. Parry, thrust, and then repeat. James adjusted.
“That is between your brother and me.”
“Did you pay his debts? If so, I wish for a tally, and will see them repaid.”
“That is between your brother and me,” James said again.
“I have no wish to be indebted to you, Raven, or owe you gratitude.”
“It's not a comfortable feeling, is it.”
“Bastard.”
“Now, now, we both know I cannot lay claim to such a title.” James found a smile. “A word of caution if I may, Sinclair.”
“What?” he snarled.
“If you spend the entire season fighting what you see as slights to your sisters, may I suggest you sharpen your swords and ensure your dueling pistol is loaded.”
“That was a poor attempt at humor, Raven.”
“Yet an accurate one,” James said. “Your sisters are intelligent and do not suffer fools. They will survive well in this nest of vipers if you let them.”
James withstood the look the man threw at him before stalking away. Shaking his head, he watched Devon join his sisters. They were a family of passions. They loved wholeheartedly, protected each other fiercely, and laughed freely, and if he could name the strongest emotion they often produced in him, other than frustration, it would be jealousy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Good evening, James.”
“Lilliana.” James acknowledged the woman coming toward him. His eyes settling briefly on the purple turban wrapped around her head, before he looked into her eyes. Cold and unfriendly.
Neither stopped, simply nodded and moved on, and he felt something heavy settle in his chest for what had once been between them, but he pushed it aside. Miss Lilliana Braithwaite was no lon
ger his concern; his father had made sure of that.
“Miss Sinclair.” He bowed to Essex when he reached her side. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
“I am, thank you, Duke. It has been most enlightening.”
Her words were accompanied by a sweet smile, and James wondered why his heart did not thud a bit harder seeing it. Essex was definitely more even-tempered than Eden, and would likely not go out of her way to jab at him repeatedly with pointed verbal barbs whenever they met.
“If I may take this time to thank you, James.”
“For what, Essex?” He leaned closer as she had done, obviously wanting to keep her words unheard by anyone but them.
“For saving my brother.”
“I am unsure as to what you are speaking of, and to my knowledge the opposite is indeed true.”
“Yes of course, I understand you see Dev and Eden's actions that way, but what I was speaking of was Cam. He is a different person for your interference, and it is this I wish to thank you for. None of his siblings had been able to reach him before the night you stepped in.”
James watched as she had a quick look around, and he guessed she was searching for her siblings. They constantly seemed to be checking on each other, he'd noticed.
“I have done very little for your brother, Essex. Cam is a good man, and merely lost his way. I simply helped redirect him.”
“Even so, please accept our gratitude. I must also add to that, Dev is now much happier and getting enough sleep, therefore we are not on the receiving end of his lectures.”
“I wish I were as lucky,” he drawled.
Her laugh was sweet.
“My eldest brother is the very best of men, James, but a trifle overbearing where we are concerned. Still, he also is grateful, yet would never mention that fact.”
“I noticed that also.”
“We have always been close, but especially more so since our parents’ deaths.”
“Your brother's dedication to his family is to be commended, Essex. However, I would rather you not tell him I said that.”
James looked to where the eldest Sinclair stood. He was conversing with several men, but while doing so his eyes were also searching the room, coming to rest on Essex and then Cam. He frowned and mouthed something, but James could not see what from this distance, or indeed who it was to.
“My sister is most like him, and yet she has not learned his control yet.”
“Eden?” James queried as he looked for her.
“Yes. Unlike me, Eden is filled with passion and fire. The man who steps into her life will need to understand that. I fear if he tries to control her the results will be disastrous.”
James did not like the knowing look in Essex's eyes as she studied him.
“Marriage is not something to be entered lightly,” James said when he could come up with nothing else. Suddenly his throat felt tight at the thought of Eden married.
“And yet a happy state if one gets it right.”
The silence that settled between them should not be comfortable after that statement, yet strangely was. James was almost reluctant to excuse himself from the only comfortable member of the Sinclair clan, but he wanted to find Eden.
“Please excuse me, Essex.” James bowed and left her side.
Looking over heads, he found Eden skirting the edges of the room alone. He intercepted her by taking a more direct route and meeting her head-on.
“Are you looking for someone, Eden? Perhaps I can help.”
He thought her eyes were narrowed in anger, but on closer inspection he saw the gray depths were filled with pain. Her face was pinched, lips in a thin line.
“No, I believe you have done quite enough for one evening, thank you. Please excuse me.”
Her words were polite, yet he knew had they been alone she would not have been so restrained.
“Eden, are you unwell?”
“No.”
She said the word softly before turning her back on him and walking away, leaving James standing there watching her.
She walked through guests, nodding and smiling, and then reached the doors that led outside. Her hand went to the handle; when it did not yield, she moved to the next one.
What the hell is she doing? James moved closer.
She looked first left and then right before pushing open the door and slipping through. Looking around, for once he could find no Sinclair nearby. He should ignore her, walk away and talk with one of the other young ladies, who would be polite and seek to flatter him—and he would be bored in seconds. Besides, someone had to stop her walking about outside. Anyone could be out there; in fact, she may be in danger even now. Moving to the same door, James opened it and stepped through.
Striding along the stone terrace he breathed deeply, enjoying the cool evening air after being closed in with so many perfumed bodies. Where was she? Walking to the edge he looked below and saw a flash of pink. What was she doing in the gardens alone? Had no one told her that young ladies did not leave social gatherings unescorted? She was not in Crunston Cliff now.
James ran down the steps and followed Eden into the gardens. Torchlight lit the shell path and he followed it to where he knew a fountain stood. The sound of his boots on the stone must have alerted her, yet she did not turn as he approached. Instead she stood facing the fountain looking at the cascading water.
“It was foolish of you to come out here alone, Eden.” Her shoulders stiffened. “Anyone could have seen you and you could have been compromised, in fact, being out here with me would not bode well for you if anyone chanced upon us.”
Still she didn't speak and James felt the last moorings of his temper loosen. Bloody Sinclairs, he thought, stomping to where she stood. He was done with their insulting behavior.
In seconds he was behind her his hands reaching for her.
“I am a bloody duke, you little shrew, and as such I deserve your respect, therefore I demand you look at me when I am addressing you!” Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, he turned her. She stumbled. James caught her.
“Eden?”
She was in agony, her face white, teeth clenched, the sudden movement causing her more pain.
“Tell me how I can help you?”
“My head aches,” she whispered, clenching her eyes shut. “I need Dev.”
“Does Devon have some medicine for you? Is that why you need him?”
“No, he can take me home.”
He lifted her into his arms and walked to the closest seat, where he lowered her gently.
“Do not touch me.”
“I only want to help you, Eden, not ravage you.”
“Yet I have no wish for you to do so.”
James could hear her pain in the short clipped bursts of air she expelled. He moved to stand behind her, then placing his hands on her temples he began to massage them.
“Don't—”
“Sssh, let me help you. Trust me just this once, Eden.”
“What are you doing?”
“These pins cannot be helping your headache.” James pulled them from her hair, placing each in his pocket before moving on to the next. “Good God, there are at least a dozen here, and half of those digging in to your scalp.”
“It takes a great deal of work to secure, and you really should not be—”
“Yes, I should.” James removed the last one, then teased the mass of curls free so it hung over the back of the seat like a river of dark silk.
“Someone could see us.”
Her moan was low and long as James pressed his fingers to her temples.
“We are hidden here, no one will see us, so relax and let me help you,” James soothed as his hands worked slowly over her head. “Slow breaths. That's it, good girl.”
Around them the night sounds receded, and the gentle flow of the fountain soothed. Her hair was thick and soft beneath his fingers, and he fought the urge to sift them through it.
“It eases.”
He heard the su
rprise in her words.
“How did you learn to do that?”
“When I was young I used to suffer from headaches and the housekeeper often did this to me.”
“Thank you, I feel much better. However, had you not singled me out, I would not have been in this predicament.”
“You should be thanking me, ungrateful woman. I just ensured your season will be a success.”
Her sigh was soft. “I have no wish to be a success, I want to go home.”
“Surely not. Every young woman wants wealth, status, and a handsome husband, all of which are at your fingertips.”
“So my aunt tells me.”
“The prospect of marriage does not please you then?” James had no right to feel happy about that fact.
“I have never been good at being told what to do, and I believe that is a husband's job.”
“And that is meant to surprise me? Your brother is not my favorite person, but he has my respect for the task of managing you all.”
“Yes, he has patience I have yet to cultivate. In fact, I sometimes wonder how he does it.”
“He loves you,” James said, knowing it was the truth. They may be a family that would send him to bedlam were he to spend too much time with them, but James knew that each of the Sinclairs would lay down his life for the other, especially the eldest.
“He is the very best of men,” she said, mirroring her sister’s earlier words, “and my life would have been vastly different were he not in it.”
“Yet you had parents.” James sat beside her, enjoying the solitude they had. For once they were just talking, not arguing, kissing, or saving lives. The seething mass of emotion that lay between them, for a few brief moments, seemed to have eased.
