Touched By Danger (A Sinclair & Raven Novel Book 3)

by Wendy Vella

  “He is a duke, Mr. Huntington.”

  “The formal one it is then.”

  Max had managed to master most of the nuances of society, but there were still things that confused him. For instance, the need for formal and informal rooms, and morning calls being undertaken in the afternoon. There were any number of strange customs that he was glad he did not have to understand, as he walked on the fringes of society. He was also in trade, and thus something of a barbarian in the eyes of many, so if he committed a faux pas, no one would be surprised, and indeed some would expect it of him.

  Climbing the stairs, he guessed the duke was about to make his sister apologize.

  “Good day,” he said, entering the room. The Ravens were seated on a sofa, but both rose as he walked in.

  “Good day, Mr. Huntington.”

  Max looked down into the sweet face of Lady Samantha. Her fair curls bounced as she shifted her weight between each foot, and her eyes moved from his face to his necktie and back again. She was exhibiting all signs of nervousness. Max was simply pleased to see her alive.

  “Samantha,” her brother said in that voice Max was sure he used to get people to do his bidding.

  “I have to apologize to you, Max… Mr. Huntington.”

  “Max will do, Lady Samantha.”

  “And I am Samantha.”

  “And a very pretty name it is too.” He looked at the duke, who nodded, which Max gathered meant it was acceptable for him to use the girl’s name.

  “Sorry,” she said in a forlorn voice, “for making you get wet to save me, and for worrying you… and everyone else.”

  “Well then, I think you have thanked me enough, and as I accept, we shall let the matter rest now.”

  “My sister—”

  “Feels bad enough, your Grace. There is no need for me to make it worse.”

  The duke exhaled. “Of course, and you are right, but I need her to know the consequences of her actions.”

  “Which I fully understand, but as she probably received the worst shock of her life that day, I believe we can leave the matter alone now.”

  “Oh no, I have received worse. Our father was a very bad man, and he did things to us that shocked me worse than falling in that water.” The little girl looked up at him with a sweet smile on her face, fully aware that she had just removed the attention from her with her words, and in doing so made her big brother extremely uncomfortable.

  “Well then,” Max said, as he could come up with nothing else. That anyone would harm this sweet child made him angry. Looking at the duke, he saw something in the depths of his eyes that confirmed his sister had spoken the truth. Discomfort, certainly, but something else, a darkness, and as Max was the master at hiding those dark places inside him, he gave the man a moment to hide his once more.

  “And have you been back to the park, or has your brother forbidden you?”

  Samantha smiled at him, and he found himself responding as he did with the Sinclair children.

  “We went yesterday, and I had two footmen with me, plus James and Emily.”

  “I think you should learn to swim, Samantha, then you would always be safe around water.”

  “We discussed that, actually.” The duke moved to stand behind his sister. “I think in light of her dunking I will make it happen.”

  As he would, Max thought. The mighty duke would snap his fingers, and his sister would be taught. Although, perhaps now he did not see him as quite so mighty, in light of the small insight into his childhood his sister had shared.

  “You had something else to ask Mr. Huntington, Samantha.”

  Max looked from the duke to his sister.

  “We are going to the Bartholomew Fair tomorrow, Max. Would you like to come with us?”

  “My sister wanted to invite you,” the duke added.

  “We are all going. The Sinclairs and that pesky Warwick.”

  “Samantha, that will do.”

  “Why is he pesky?” Max said, to give himself time to think. When she’d invited him, he’d had the instant urge to agree, then his mind had cleared.

  “He ties my shoes together, and he tells me to be quiet because he says I talk too much.”

  “And of course, you, Dorrie and Somer, never do anything to him, do you?” The duke snorted.

  “He deserves it.”

  “The boy has my sympathy. I imagine being a minority cannot be easy.”

  “Exactly,” the duke agreed.

  Samantha’s smile fooled no one.

  “So will you come?”

  “Ah, well as to that, I—”

  “We are to take a picnic and there will be so many wonderful things, like cherry cakes, and toffee. So please do come, Max.”

  “Don’t push, Samantha. Perhaps Mr. Huntington has something else to do tomorrow.”

  “Do you?”

  Max looked down into her face, and couldn’t find a single word except “Yes, I would love to come.”

  She clapped her hands, then took his and did a little jig, swinging it back and forth.

  “We shall have so much fun.”

  “There is a seat in one of the Sinclair carriages, should you require a ride, Huntington.”

  “No, I will ride, thank you, your Grace.”

  “Very well, we shall leave at 11.00 a.m.”

  The duke placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

  “Good day to you, Mr. Huntington.”

  Max nodded. “Good day, your Grace, Samantha.”

  He heard them leave, and still stood staring at the wall. What the hell had he just agreed to, and furthermore, why? Max did not do things like this. But that little girl had asked and he’d agreed, because he had found no words not to.

  “I am unravelling,” he said, falling into a chair. “Or ailing for something.” He touched his forehead, but it was annoyingly cool.

  Dear Christ, he was going to a fair with them. What the hell was he thinking?

  Essie was seated inside the carriage as Max rode up on a large bay horse. He looked comfortable, his seat, unlike hers, perfect. His black hat was settled on his head, and the tawny curls beneath fluttered. His jacket was deep chocolate, and his necktie and shirt a crisp white. He wore a fawn-and-chocolate waistcoat, and fawn breeches. The sun glinted off his polished Hessians.

  Oh for a slight imperfection, Essie thought. A squint or permanent snarl.

  Had she not been seated across from Lilly and her two youngest sisters, she would have sighed. How could a man look so handsome riding a horse, seeing as she loathed horses? Which made no sense, but perfect sense to her. She was constantly confused and off-balance around this man. Even more so now he had said what he had about that day she had saved Samantha. He knew there was something different about her family.

  “Mr. Huntington is a very handsome man, don’t you think, Essie?”

  “Pardon?” She looked at Lilly.

  “Mr. Huntington. I saw you looking at him.”

  “No, I wasn’t!”

  “There is no shame in admiring a handsome man. Even my old married heart enjoys seeing such a sight.”

  Lord, he’s beautiful, Essie thought as he drew closer. And she had touched that body, run her hands through that thick mane of hair.

  “You just sighed, Essie, are you all right?”

  “Yes, thank you, Somer.”

  Dorrie and Somer leaned out the window.

  “Hello, Max!” they shrieked.

  “Must you shriek out the window like two hoydens?” Dev said, entering the carriage.

  “Yes!” they cried together.

  At least the twins had created a diversion, Essie thought as Lilly accepted a kiss from her husband.

  “How is your sickness today, Lilly?”

  “Much better, after you gave me that herbal tea to drink before I get out of bed.”

  “I am glad.”

  “Of course Eden is not sick, which is unfair, don’t you think?” Lilly said loud enough so that Eden would hear.r />
  “Yes, but she is already bloated, dear, and you are not, so you see there is a fairness there after all.”

  Dev snorted, and Lilly winked. In the next carriage she was sure that Eden would be rolling her eyes. Of course she was not bloated, or anything but beautiful, but still, it made Lilly feel better to pretend.

  “You look beautiful,” Dev said to his wife. He bent to tie up Dorrie’s shoe ribbon. Her brother would be a wonderful, if overprotective parent.

  “Thank you, darling.”

  “Is Toby coming, Lilly?”

  “He is, and at present is seated with Warwick, as he did not feel comfortable in here surrounded by such beauty, Dorrie.”

  Essie swallowed her smile as her sisters preened.

  The carriages rolled out then, and they were soon travelling through London. Of Max she thankfully saw no sign, which suggested he rode with the first carriage.

  “We have been blessed with the weather,” Lilly said.

  “Indeed we have.”

  She listened as Dev and Lilly conversed, and the twins chattered, excited about their outing. Essie spent the time counselling herself on her behavior toward Max. She would be calm, and treat him like she would any stranger.

  But he’s not a stranger, is he? He knows you intimately…. Well, her body anyway.

  Did he think about what they’d done? Had it meant as much to him as it had to her?

  “Are you all right, Essie? You look flushed.”

  “Fine, thank you, Dev.”

  She would be polite and yet keep her distance. She would treat Max as she did every man who was not her family. The trouble came when he was alone with her, or when he touched her, so she would ensure those situations did not arise.

  “I’m surprised Huntington decided to join us. I did not think him the type to engage in family outings.”

  “Perhaps it is the novelty,” Essie found herself saying. “I don’t believe he has close family ties.”

  “Did he tell you that at Oak’s Knoll?” Her brother’s eyes held hers.

  “He did. Apparently his family still live in France, where he was raised.”

  “I wonder why he landed in England then?” Lilly said.

  “I have no idea, we never discussed the matter,” Essie said. But he’d told her he had no relationship with his family, and she remembered offering her home as his, should he need it, because she felt sorry that he had no one at his back.

  Distance, Essie, she reminded herself. Put it behind you.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Children will take the hand of an adult, and there will be no running off.”

  Max listened silently to the orders both Raven and Sinclair were firing at their families in perfect harmony. The children listened patiently. The adults rolled their eyes.

  He had wanted to send word several times over the last twenty-four hours that he would not be able to attend, and yet something had always stopped him from doing so. What, he had no idea, but this morning he had convinced himself it was because he wanted to observe this unusual family, and it had nothing to do with the eldest Sinclair sister.

  His eyes found Essie, standing to the rear of the group with her brother Warwick leaning on her legs. The boy did that often, Max had noted. Not quite as confident as his sisters, he was usually found with an adult. But then, having a best friend at your side since birth had to be confidence building.

  She was, as usual, exquisite. Dressed in rose today, she looked so bloody beautiful it actually made his chest hurt, which couldn’t be a good thing. Yet still, here he stood, with this unusual group of people he was no closer to working out than he had been yesterday. About to spend the day in her company. Why, he wondered, was he torturing himself unnecessarily.

  Dragging his eyes from Essex, as she had not looked his way once and was not likely to, he focused on the other stranger in the group today, a young boy who, unlike the other children, had an air about him that was familiar to Max. His boys carried the same look. Wise beyond their years.

  “He is one of my boys.”

  Max found Lady Sinclair at his side.

  “The first child I rescued, actually. We found him beaten on the doorstep of the house I run.”

  “And he comes on outings with you and your family?” Max said.

  “He does, because he has always been different from the others. He never wanted to leave. He now lives at Temple Street with Mr. and Mrs. Davey, who run the house.”

  Max nodded. He’d offered whatever support was needed to the boys he rescued, but he never gave them too much of himself. Perhaps because he did not have too much to give, or if he was honest, he did not know how to offer more than a roof, food, and financial stability to those boys. He wasn’t a man who invested in emotions.

  “So in brief, you will make sure you are in sight of an adult you know at all times.”

  “My husband had to add on the bit about the adult being someone they know, because those children are devilishly tricky, and will outsmart you in a heartbeat.”

  “Yes, their intellect is a terrifying thing.”

  Once the lecture was over, they all moved as one into the fair.

  “I want to see the fire eater, Max.”

  He found one of the twins at his side, her hand slipping into his without asking permission.

  “And then the time-telling pig.”

  “Pardon?” He calmed his breathing. It was a child’s hand, for pity’s sake, not a venomous serpent. Surely he could do this?

  “It’s true.” She swung his hand. “There is a blindfolded pig who can tell the time down to the minute, and also pick cards from a pack.”

  “Oh now, you can’t really expect me to believe that,” he said, closing her little hand inside his. One day, Max thought. He would do this for a day, and after that he would move out of that bloody house and put some distance between him and these disturbing people.

  “I do not tell untruths, Max, my brothers and sisters get quite angry if I do.”

  “Like that has ever stopped you,” came the dry voice of Cambridge Sinclair, who walked ahead with Dorrie.

  “I want to see the dolls.” Samantha skipped at her brother’s side.

  “We want to see the skeleton, and the elephant that can uncork bottles,” Warwick said, still holding Essie’s hand. Toby walked at his side, holding no one.

  “That could come in handy when one is on a bender,” Cambridge drawled.

  Max realized over the next two hours that he would not have enjoyed the Bartholomew Fair quite as much were it not for the company he shared.

  “Well I declare, that man has a young boy on his lap… or is it a doll? Whoever he is, he speaks very well.”

  Max looked to where the duchess was pointing. Her eyes twinkled with laughter. It was a ventriloquist’s dummy. He didn’t have to wait long for one of the children to answer.

  “Eden,” Warwick sighed, as if his sister’s intellect disturbed him. “That is a ventriloquist”—he pointed to the man—“and that is his dummy. The dummy cannot speak.”

  “However, he is,” the duchess pointed out.

  They all surged closer, and it did indeed appear the dummy was speaking. The children gathered closer and conferred.

  “The man is making him speak,” Dorrie said.

  “And yet I do not see his lips move,” Lord Sinclair said. “Do you, Essie?”

  She tilted her head slightly as if to think the matter over, and his eyes went to that place just beneath her ear that Max knew would taste so good.

  “No, and surely a man that size would speak in a deeper voice?”

  He’d noticed that they constantly challenged the children, questioned how and why things were as they were. Max had to admit to being impressed. He’d never had someone to guide him, but thought it would have been nice to have these people at his back.

  “Perhaps there is a boy inside that doll?”

  The children conferred again.

  “His legs are too
small,” Samantha said.

  “Well, your legs are small,” the duke pointed out.

  They discussed the dummy until all parties were satisfied, and then moved on. Much to his surprise, there was a time-telling pig, and a Red Indian up next.

  “That will teach you to doubt them, Huntington.”

  “Had someone told you about a time-telling pig before your sisters did, you would have scoffed too, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “I try to be open-minded, Huntington, as life has a way of kicking you in the ass if you aren’t.”

  “Cam said ass!”

  Max laughed as Warwick went running to tell his big brother.

  “They were so sweet before they could talk.”

  “Sinclair, had you no one to tell on you, then you would be worried. You and your family are lucky people.” Max meant the words, he just hadn’t meant to say them out loud with quite so much feeling.

  The Sinclair green eyes focused on him.

  “I know how lucky I am, thank you, Huntington.”

  And he did, Max realized. They all did, and showed it in small gestures, like a kiss to the head or brush of a hand. The adults had been called upon to inspect any number of things, and no one had muttered a protest. This, Max realized, was what it meant to be part of a family.

  Suddenly his chest felt tight as those green eyes of Cambridge Sinclair looked pityingly at him.

  “If you will excuse me, I shall return to you all shortly.” He bowed and walked away.

  Space, Max thought. He needed space to find the man he had always been. What had possessed him to come here today with these people? It was her, he had wanted to be near her, and the family was just part of that... her.

  You are a fool, Huntington.

  Walking blindly through the crowds, he kept moving until he could breathe again and the tightness in his chest eased.

  “This is not for you,” he rasped. He did not want this. A family, to be part of something that could hurt him.

  He saw her up ahead, Essex, haggling with a man over a purchase. He found no other Sinclair, and wondered when she had broken the rules and left the group. Moving closer, he felt a shiver down his spine. Turning, he searched the crowds but saw no one looking his way, so he continued on, but Essie had gone.