by Nancy Gideon
They were alike in more ways than Brigit cared to consider.
The other woman was an open book, absolutely guileless, and so hungry for companionship that she accepted Brigit’s overtures almost desperately at face value. She saw only the lovely features, heard only the sweet, caring voice. An easy mark, child’s play to manipulate. Everything Brigit could have hoped for. She could have been a she-wolf among sheep, except for the interference of their conscientious shepherd. And the unexpected nagging of her own scruples.
She’d hated this female whose existence had destroyed her family, who had won a place in her brother’s heart. Tina’s confided misery should have been a personal victory, yet Brigit begrudgingly sympathized with her heartaches. She reluctantly offered a shoulder but stopped short of advice. What did she know of happiness or bliss that lasted beyond the moment? Her own past was a disaster of wrong turns and missed opportunities, foiled by her pride and tunnel-visioned purpose.
Worse, Tina reminded her of Kendra. Of the childhood she’d lost. Of the mother she mourned. Of the family ties she craved.
Those realizations, along with a good chardonnay, found her and Tina telling stories by the time Giles returned just before dinner. He didn’t join them at the table, looking in only long enough to assure himself that Brigit was where he’d left her, before he disappeared into the rear of the massive house.
After Oscar went up to see to his studies, a second bottle, this time a merlot, was opened and shared before a small fire in the parlor.
“So,” Brigit began, relaxed, warmed, and receptive to the companionable mood, “how do you like living here?”
Tina gestured widely to include the room’s grand scale, priceless art, and luxurious furnishings. “It’s like living in a fairy tale. All very fine and rich, with a bit of a dark and decadent core.” A giggle escaped and was quickly suppressed behind the press of fingertips.
“A castle or a prison?”
Tina considered the question, a pucker creasing her brow. “A bit of both, I think. We’re well taken care of, protected, but kept away from the life we’d rather be enjoying. Staying here makes it feel like time’s stopped.” Another giddy chuckle. “That sounds silly to you, I’m sure.”
“No,” Brigit mused. “It makes perfect sense.” What better place to hide from an ugly reality than surrounded by the safety of a dream?
“What about you?” Tina urged. “Where are you living?”
A rueful smile. “I guess you could say I’m in transit.” With no means to move on. Through the haze of the wine, her future appeared decidedly grim.
“Lucky you, to have no ties, to be able to go anywhere in the world you want.” Tina sighed. Then she was instantly solicitous. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I just assumed . . .”
Brigit waved off the apology. “You assumed what you saw was the truth. Far from it. I’m here to beg for shelter from my brother.” That humiliation was quickly soothed.
“Nonsense,” Tina chided. “It’s not begging to come to family for help when you need it.”
“I’m afraid Silas sees me as a bit too needy these days. I’ve taken advantage of his generosity more than a few times. This time three is definitely a crowd.” She drew up behind her own fortifying wall lest she lean too eagerly into the offered comfort. “I’ll land on my feet. I always do.”
“You could stay here.” Tina brightened. “For more than the two weeks, I mean. There’s a ridiculous amount of room, and Ozzy and I would love the chance to get to know you better. Just until you decide where you’d like to go.”
The offer was all at once enticing and alarming.
A haven where she could relax without worry . . .
A cage where her every move would be scrutinized . . . Where she’d be beholden to strangers . . .
Not strangers. Family.
“I don’t know.”
“Promise you’ll think about it,” Tina urged, gripping her hand with a fervor that had Brigit instinctively anxious to pull away. Especially when the clutching hand was followed by an even more heart-snagging entreaty. “I’ve never had anyone to talk to about the things that matter. I’ve never had a close friend, let alone a sister. I can’t imagine anything more wonderful than having both.”
The wine took a nasty roll in Brigit’s belly. She pressed her lips tightly together to seal in a hearty laugh. A close friend. A sister. Did Tina honestly think that was what she’d be getting with Brigit? That was rich. She could play the role in passing, but day in, day out? Settle in as if she really had a place to belong? Silas would never allow it, and he’d be wise to wish her gone before she smothered the innocent mother and child beneath the dark cloak of misfortune that always seemed to find her.
Her voice stiffly polite, Brigit said, “It’s a very kind offer, but I don’t think it’s yours to make.”
“Why not? Max told me to think of this as my home, and home is where your family stays. Besides, I don’t know when or even if he’ll be coming back. Charlotte spends all her time at their apartment in the city. The only one who might have anything to say about it would be Giles. I’ll talk to him.”
What chance would big, softhearted Giles St. Clair stand once Tina turned those dewy eyes on him? It didn’t seem fair somehow.
“I’ll talk to him,” Brigit amended. “But don’t get your hopes up. I’m not sure I’d be a good fit here.” Or anywhere.
The wine was making it difficult to focus. Brigit never drank more than a single glass, preferring to keep her self-preserving wits about her, but now everything was a pleasant soft-focus blur. After the sharp-edged intensity of her usual minute-to-minute, it felt good to go with the flow and consider Tina’s possible answer to her dilemma.
She indulged in that rosy picture after an amusingly tipsy Tina had gone to check on her son, and she’d woven a rather wobbly path to her own room.
A home. With family. A place not riddled with threat and fear where she had to be on guard 24/7. Where she could be herself . . . if she could remember who that might be. She stared at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, seeing only the surface mask. What was beneath it? Someone who could be a close friend, a sister? Someone who could find happiness here?
Could this place become a stable home instead of a stepping-stone to some other dangerous destination?
Wouldn’t that be nice, the wine cooed seductively.
After she’d established a home base, perhaps Kendra could join her. She would thrive in this low-key environment. Silas was smart. He could find a way to free her from the Terriots’ grip.
Then they would be a family again.
Giles St. Clair had become a pivotal piece in her future. With him in her corner, perhaps Silas could be swayed. The sooner she had Giles under her thumb, the better. Then she could start making plans. How difficult could that be? He was a simple hired man, a human. She’d bewitched nearly every male who met her. How much of a challenge could he present?
The memory of that wary glance in the rearview mirror was quickly shrugged away.
After showering away the sluggish effects of the wine, Brigit took her time dressing. She let her long hair dry naturally so it was full of curl and bounce. After massaging in a fragrant lotion that whispered “You know you want me” with every inhalation, she slipped on the clingy knit dress with its primitive animal print and dangerous-curve-inducing side wrap. Add a pair of high wow-factor heels and a tint of juicy coral to her lips, and she was off on the hunt.
So where was he hiding?
The huge old house was filled with unexpected hallways and rooms leading into rooms that seemed to serve no purpose but to gather dust and ghosts. Finally, she stumbled upon the hub of the household, the nerve center of its security, and the gathering place for a surprising number of unseen employees. The surveillance area would require further study, but her attention was held by a group of thuggish men sitting to a game of poker, and particularly on the large stack of currency piled in the middle of the
table. Something she would need if a Plan B were necessary.
“Can I help you find something, ma’am?”
Brigit smiled at the ever-present house girl, Jasmine. “I was looking for Mr. St. Clair. Have you seen him?”
“I believe he’s out in the carriage house. Would you like me to get him for you?”
“Oh, no. Don’t disturb him. When he comes in, would you let him know I’d like to speak with him?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jasmine hesitated, waiting for Brigit to continue on her way. When she stayed where she was, the girl asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Another pleasant smile. “No, thank you. Don’t let me keep you from whatever you were doing.”
Jasmine moved on reluctantly, unable to ask their guest’s reason for being in the hired quarters without appearing rude. Once she’d turned a corner, Brigit returned to her quickly conceived plan. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
The five roughly dressed characters regarded her with eyes wide and jaws slack.
“Is this a private game, or can anyone sit in?”
“Are you sure this is a place you should be, ma’am?” one of them managed with a hard swallow.
“Shut up, Teddy,” another growled, leaping up to drag in an extra chair. “We wouldn’t want the lady to think we’re inhospitable. You like playing cards, ma’am?”
Brigit settled into the seat with a coy glance up at the sweaty fellow. “Almost as much as I like the men who play them. Only problem is, I don’t have any money to buy in. I don’t suppose you boys would let me play for a kiss to the winner until I’ve built up some stakes?” She wet her lips and smiled.
“Finish cleaning them out?”
Brigit gave a start at finding Giles sitting on the main stairs, leaning back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She tucked the fat wad of bills into her neckline and smiled. “You should have joined the game. I might have been convinced to play a round of strip poker.”
He smiled faintly. “Didn’t look like much there was much chance involved, from what I saw.”
“Why, Mr. St. Clair, are you suggesting that I cheated those poor fellows?”
“Not at all. I’m sure they got their money’s worth.” That didn’t sound like a compliment, the way he said it. “Where did you learn to play?”
“Silas is the best there is with a deck of cards. He taught me. It’s a skill that comes in handy now and again.”
“When you need traveling money?” he asked smoothly.
Her gaze narrowed, but her smile remained. “Why would you think I’m going anywhere?”
“Possibly something to do with whatever spooked you in the city. Or with whoever’s blood you were wearing when you got here.”
“Why would either of those things be any of your business?” She jabbed at him like a knife thrust, forgetting that her plan had been to charm him.
“They aren’t. I don’t care what kind of troubles you’ve gotten yourself into, but I do care about the promise I made to your brother.”
Her tone crackled like ice breaking. “And what exactly did you promise to do for Silas?”
“To not let you out of my sight. So until he gets back, you’d better get used to having me for a shadow.”
“I’d rather get used to being chained in a cell.”
He shrugged. “Your choice. We’ve got one we can tuck you away in, but you might get your pretty new clothes dirty.”
And the gloves were off.
“You have no idea what dirty is until you get in my way, Upright,” she promised with a low throb of ferocity. “My brother does not dictate what I can and cannot do or when I come and go, and if you think you can stop me, you are sorely mistaken.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time. But you’ll learn right quick that there’s nothing I won’t do for those I care about.”
“And you care about my brother? About that woman and her son? You’re nothing to them but hired help. They aren’t your family. They’re mine, and you’d better not forget that or your place.”
“True enough.” His expression never changed, but the cool blue of his eyes dropped below freezing. “But it won’t change anything.”
She sucked in a frustrated breath, then spat, “You’re an inferior brute and a fool.”
“No argument there.” His reply was like his smile. Pleasantly agreeable and firm.
There was no getting around him.
As she stormed up the stairs, his hand closed about her ankle, forcing her to stop and glare down at him. Something in his upturned face sent a shock of awareness shuddering through her. Perhaps the startling recognition of him as a healthy, capable male.
His smile spread in a slow, appealing curve. “That dress is worth every outrageous penny Max paid for it.”
His hand was warm and strong, the feel of it quickening a chill of panic and desire—the first caused by the second. For a moment, she couldn’t move or think except to say, “How do you know how much it cost?”
“Because the store had to okay the charge through me. How do you think I knew where to look for you? Are you going to offer me a kiss to square away that advance on your debt?”
All at once he became more than a formidable obstacle. He became a wily opponent.
“Hardly.” She jerked her foot free and continued up the steps with stiff hauteur.
Like an enraged goddess. Giles watched her disappear into her room. He chuckled, glad that he’d disabled all the vehicles in the garage in case she got the urge to run.
This promise was going to be a bitch to keep.
Brigit paced her room all night, as if trapped in an elegantly appointed cage. She separated her time equally into wanting to strangle her brother, dreaming of shoving Giles St. Clair down that great curving staircase so she could step over him at the bottom without a glance (because spitting was beneath her), and wishing she could blank out the memory of the way he’d gazed up at her that made her think of repaying the debt upon his sweetly mocking lips. Part of her wanted to use these people for her own betterment, taking everything she could get, then run and not look back, like the selfish creature everyone thought she was. Part of her longed to curl up in the big comfortable bed, make any concessions necessary to be taken care of and have no worries. The cooler, calmer part of her warned to take her time and take stock of the situation lest she lose control over her own future.
She’d done herself no favors by letting her temper flare. To ingratiate herself to her jailer, she’d have to convince him that she was not only harmless but in need of his protection.
Now she knew Giles St. Clair’s weakness. She’d seen it register in his stare at her harsh claim that he was nothing to the people who lived on the big estate. She’d realized then that in his generous if misinformed heart, they were family to him, and that made him all the more protective of their interests. Regardless of the fact that he was not their kind, Giles was a pack animal, ready to give all for anyone within his circle. He would descend upon her with an unholy wrath if she so much as disturbed a hair upon their heads, promise to Silas be damned.
She wondered what Giles would think of her sainted brother if he knew it had once been Silas’s plan, at her instigation, to steal Oscar Babineau and use him as a bargaining tool with the Terriots.
Neither of them were what they seemed. Both brother and sister were capable of doing anything necessary to protect their own.
Because she understood those dark things about herself, Brigit knew that to advance any plan, she would have to get by Giles. And to do that, she’d have to become part of his intimate circle.
five
The sound of feminine laughter drew Giles out onto the side porch, where Tina and Brigit were having breakfast. The instant she saw him, Brigit got to her feet.
“I’ll get a cup for you,” she offered in a quiet tone that immediately made him suspicious.
She brushed past him in the doorway. Everything about her was subd
ued, from downcast eyes slightly bruised with fatigue to her casual appearance in a plain white collared shirt and jeans, hair pulled back and loosely bound, face free of makeup. Most women would have seemed a faded shadow of themselves in such a situation, but Brigit MacCreedy seemed to glow.
Giles dropped into an extra chair, brooding after her. “Am I in the doghouse with you, too?”
“Why would you think that?” Tina asked, genuinely surprised.
“She’s probably been filling you in on all my mistreatments of her.”
“Actually, she was wondering how to apologize to you for her behavior.”
She couldn’t have gotten his attention quicker if she’d slapped him. “Come again?”
“She was afraid she’d made a terrible impression on you, but I assured her that wasn’t the case. Is it?”
Giles met the direct gaze, feeling more ashamed than he should be under Tina’s quelling look. “She can be a bit overbearing,” he pointed out in his own defense.
“She’s alone and afraid and in our care. I would expect you to have some sympathy for her.”
Giles was about to snort at that when he saw the tenderness in the woman’s eyes. And he saw the new game Brigit was playing, not liking it one damned bit.
Divide and conquer. One of Jimmy’s favorites.
“I’ll try to be nicer to her, for your sake.” That way he could keep a closer eye on her. Nothing about the lovely Miz MacCreedy added up properly, preventing him from placing her into one of his neat columns. That made him uncomfortable. She made him uncomfortable with her talent for knowing how to provoke him. “She said something about you being family. Is that true?”
Tina glanced about to see if they could be overheard before leaning in to confide, “She and Silas are my half sister and brother. I had no idea until that first time Silas came out here. I grew up thinking I belonged to another family . . . a normal family. I tried to raise Oscar the same way. I tried to give him that same kind of life, but I guess we just weren’t meant to live like regular people.”
