by Wendy Vella
“My name is Louis. I would be honored if you would use it.”
Louis, Lord Laurent, James thought, fighting a smile.
“When you hear my middle name is Lyon, you will sympathize with me and understand that my mother was fond of alliteration.”
This time he could do little to hold back his snort. “My name is James, Louis.”
“So who is on the list of suspects, James?”
Releasing a breath, James looked out the carriage window. Only the faint light from the gas lamps lit the streets, leaving eerie shadows and crevices for some of the more nefarious members of society to frequent.
“I have an heir, but he is off travelling the world and enjoying himself. There are other family members, but none who would gain by my death. Business interests perhaps? But I cannot think of any who would wish me dead. There must be others, men I have unwittingly insulted or—”
“Even I, who have not been in London over long, have heard of your chilly exterior and rapier-sharp tongue,” Louis drawled.
“I was exactly as you say.” James shrugged.
“Was? May I ask after the change in your manner, James? Although on such a short acquaintance I understand if the question is too personal.”
It probably was too personal and James would usually have bristled and delivered a sharp set down at such a question. But he was different now, for better or worse, and he did seem to feel emotions that previously had been a stranger to him. He also knew the sources of these changes, yet was only willing to supply one of them.
“My sister.”
“I have heard they are wonderful, yet exasperating creatures, sisters.” Louis smiled then winced as the cut on his lip gave a vicious tug.
“Do you have any siblings, Louis?”
The sadness that passed over the Frenchman’s face made James wish he had not asked the question.
“Alas, I have no family alive, James.”
He did not ask, but wondered if like many, Louis had lost family during the French revolution.
“Do you fence, Louis?” James said as the carriage stopped before the Grillion.
“Oui, James. I am a Frenchman. Therefore, I am superior to you, the staid Englishman.”
James laughed at the arrogance.
“I would be happy to set you on your backside a time or two,” Louis added.
“Perhaps tomorrow afternoon then?”
“Excellent. Shall we say Angelo’s at 2:00 p.m.?”
“I shall look forward to it,” James said, “and thank you once again.”
“My pleasure, and if I may be bold, James. I would not advise you to go anywhere unaccompanied until this matter is settled.”
James shook the hand offered. “Thank you, yes I shall show caution.”
He watched Louis leave with a last raise of his hand, and then sat back as Jonah headed the horses for home. He had to find out who wanted him dead. Before Samantha, he would not have cared; life to James had never held much meaning, but now he had a sister who needed him and a woman he wanted more with every dawning day. Not that he would ever follow through with that.
Chapter Fifteen
“Shall we walk, Eden, as it is not too far?”
“Yes, Somer, both you and Dorrie should gather your outer clothing and I will call Essie and we will be off at once.”
The Sinclair sisters stepped out into a beautiful sunny day minutes later. They planned to walk to the Duke of Raven’s house to pay a call on Samantha. Eden had told the twins about the little girl’s illness over breakfast that morning, and they had been insistent upon visiting. Eden had sent word, and the reply was in Samantha’s handwriting and stated that she would love to see them.
Essie carried the small posy of flowers they had made for Samantha.
“I am getting used to the noise and bustle and even beginning to like it here, Somer,” Dorrie said, skipping beside her twin.
Eden smiled at Essie over the heads of her sisters. It was good they were beginning to like it here. She knew much of her siblings’ happiness was because of their aunt and uncle and the love they so obviously lavished on their nieces and nephews.
“Which house is it, Eden?”
“The big one there,” Eden pointed to a large gray building.
“It’s even bigger than our uncle’s,” Dorrie whispered in awe.
A tall black fence ran along the front of the property. The sisters walked through the gates and looked up at the somber stone facade.
“Come along,” Eden said, urging the small party toward the front doors. Essie knocked and they stepped back to wait.
“We are the Sinclair sisters, come to visit with Lady Samantha,” Dorrie said when the door opened.
The butler did not appear surprised at being addressed by a young girl, and stepped to one side to allow them to enter.
Eden glimpsed a large staircase, dark walls and tiled floors, and then they entered a small parlor.
“If you will please wait in here, I will see if Lady Samantha is receiving this morning.”
“She is receiving, because we sent her a note and she replied,” Somer said.
“Well then, if you will just wait here, I shall tell her you have called.”
Dreary and uninviting were the best words to describe the room. Dark brown brocade hung at the windows and the walls were paneled halfway with dark wood and the rest papered in deep burgundy. The furnishings were, if she was being flattering, ugly, and no one made a move to sit, instead walking toward the window where the light provided some relief in the drab room.
“It is not a very welcoming room.”
“Sssh, Somer, it would not do for someone to hear you,” Essie whispered.
“But don’t you think Somer’s right though, Essie?” Dorrie added. “The room is unwelcoming. Not even a small vase sits upon a table; a few flowers would surely help with the gloom.”
The twins’ thoughts mirrored Eden’s but she did not comment further. Surely living in such a depressing house cannot be healthy for the spirits? Eden wondered how James had coped living in such a place as a child.
“Indeed you are both correct, it is a very unpleasant room, yet it is not for us to comment on how others live. Now let us remove our things so we are ready to visit with Samantha,” Eden said.
When the butler opened the door the Sinclair sisters were more than happy to follow him. They walked up the wide curved staircase. Hunting scenes hung from the walls, mingled with ancestors whose eyes glared down upon them. Eden squeezed the little hand that slipped into hers, offering reassurance. The butler led them down hallways and up more stairs until the sisters had completely lost their bearings. Finally they stopped before a door. Opening it, he ushered them inside and into an explosion of light and color.
“Oh my,” the twins whispered.
Eden and her sisters stood just inside the door and stared. Light from the large windows touched the buttercup-colored walls, and the room appeared to glow. Chairs and sofas covered in bright colors with large squishy pillows dotted the room, and silks and pictures hung from the walls. Shelves spilled with books and toys, and a huge vase filled with bright blooms sat on a cabinet.
“Dorrie, Somer!”
This squeal came from the floor before the fire. Eden watched as Samantha climbed to her feet and hurried toward them. She could see dark circles beneath the girl’s eyes and her skin was pale, however the wide smile on her lips was enough to dispel her fear that Samantha was not recovering. Dressed in pale blue, her hair tied in a large, floppy matching satin bow, she looked as every young girl should.
“Hello, Eden, do you like my room?”
“Indeed I do, Samantha, and who could not, it is surely the most beautiful room I have ever been in.”
Samantha seemed delighted with the compliment and was more than happy to accept Eden and Essie’s hugs and kisses.
“Your dress too is lovely, Samantha.”
“It is one of the dresses you chose, and James and I
decorated the room.”
Eden swallowed the lump in her throat at the prospect of James and Samantha together decorating the room. It seemed the bond between the siblings had indeed strengthened.
Samantha loved her flowers, and soon the little girls were sitting before a large dollhouse, playing as if they had been friends for many years.
Essie and Eden sat before the windows in two comfortable chairs, more than happy to let the girls play until they tired.
“Did you enjoy last night, Eden?”
“Of course.”
“Liar.”
Eden puffed out a breath. “I am not lying to you. I enjoyed parts of last night, it is just....” Eden could not find the words to express what she felt.
“The men seem shallow when compared with the men of our family and the women are little better,” Essie finished in a dry voice. “Lord Laurent is excluded from that statement, of course.”
Her sister was falling in love, she realized.
“Is he to stay here in England, Essie?”
“Yes, he has nothing to go back to, and is looking to purchase a house here in England.”
“How sad that he has no family.”
“I have not questioned him on the subject as it is obviously a painful one for him,” Essie said.
Eden grabbed her sister’s hands. “I pray it works out for you, Essie.”
“It will,” she smiled. “Will you talk about your feelings for the Duke with me now? Last night you dismissed the subject when I broached it.”
“There is nothing to discuss, Essie. We are not suited, and I would never be the wife he wished for.”
“Believe that if you wish, and I shall say no more.”
“There is no more to say,” Eden said in a firm voice. When had she betrayed her interest in the Duke?
“I found Miss Bartrum’s gown far too excessive for one so young, and those plumes nearly took poor Mr. Hadleigh’s eyes out when they danced.”
Eden laughed as her sister intended, glad to change the subject. Taking out one of her earplugs, she rubbed her ear. They sometimes began to hurt after a while if she pushed them in too far. Listening to the hum of voices in various areas of the house, she sorted through each. The rattle of plates, the bang of pots was obviously from the kitchens. She heard James’s voice and then another.
“Cam is here.”
“Are you sure?” Essie questioned, looking around as if he stood behind them.
“Yes,” Eden said, climbing to her feet. “Wait here.” She waved her sister back. “We shall finally see what he and the Duke are up to.”
“Do not antagonize him.”
She lifted a hand at her sister’s words and left the room. Following Cam’s voice, Eden soon stood before another door. Pushing her earplug back in, she tapped before entering.
Unlike the rest of the house, this was a room worthy of spending time. The ceiling was high, with the farthest wall holding floor-to-ceiling windows that, like Samantha’s room, made it seem as if she were stepping into the sunlight. Books lined two walls, high enough that a ladder would be needed to reach the top ones. The furnishings were of rich deep reds and blues with woven patterned rugs scattering the polished wooden floors. It was alive with a feast of color and light, and Eden knew that this was the room James spent all his time in.
“This one is extraordinary, and seems to be a map of an island somewhere in the Caribbean, and this one—”
Both heads swiveled as Eden shut the door.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I believe that was going to be my question, brother dear.” Eden looked from Cam to the Duke and back again. They were bent over a large desk upon which was spread a big piece of parchment. Both were in shirtsleeves and waistcoats. James smiled, Cam scowled.
“I asked first.”
“Oh please, like a Sinclair has ever cared who asks first. It’s who gets the answer first that matters,” Eden scoffed. “Besides, we are intrigued as to what it is you do here with the Duke for hours.”
James folded his arms and leaned back against the desk. He loved watching Eden when she was sparring with her siblings; it was a game all parties seemed to relish, no matter the outcome or the original topic, as usually they covered many over the course of the debate.
She looked like a sweet piece of confectionary today waiting to be devoured, dressed in pale lemon muslin with blond lace trim. Her hair was simply styled and her beautiful face alive. He wanted to lay her upon his desk and ravish her.
“I am to be cursed with you even here,” Cam growled. “Christ, am I allowed no peace!”
“Do not curse in your sister’s presence, Cam.” James felt he needed to say something.
“Peace!” Eden screeched, ignoring him and forcing both men to wince. “Peace is it, you insufferable ingrate. You, who do not live with the children, crave peace. Oh and I was to know you were here, was I? We came to visit with Samantha, not follow you, you self-important puffed-up—”
“Now, children,” James chided softly, knowing it would annoy the hell out of them. Smiling, he wondered when he had begun to understand the rules to their games.
“Oh Lord, Eden. I’m so sorry, I was supposed to tell you she had been sick,” Cam said, anger fleeing as quickly as it had come.
“It is all right, brother, the Duke told us last night and Dorrie and Somer were insistent upon seeing Samantha. Had they found out any earlier they would more than likely have caught whatever was ailing her.”
From rage to empathy in seconds, James thought, shaking his head. It was exhausting just watching them. He could only imagine how tiring it would be to live with the Sinclairs.
Cam was now hugging his sister tight and kissing her cheek. They were a very demonstrative lot, always touching and kissing each other. James’s skin tingled just at the thought of all that close contact with another person. Close contact with Eden however, now that was a different matter entirely.
“Good morning, Eden.”
“Oh, forgive me, James,” Eden said, dropping into a curtsey. “Good morning to you.”
“Think nothing of it. I can see how important it is to be on your guard when faced with a Sinclair sibling.”
“What happened to your face?”
James braced himself as she moved closer, one hand lifted to touch his jaw and then at the last minute, almost as if she realized what she was about to do, it fell to her side and she retreated.
“‘Tis nothing, just an accident.”
“That was caused by a fist, James, and not nothing. I know what they look like, as my brothers have upon occasion come home with just such a mark.”
“Some men tried to jump him outside his club.”
Glaring at Cam, James raised his hand as Eden began to speak.
“I am unharmed and a friend came to my aid,” James said, surprised at how comfortable he felt saying the word friend.
“You cannot go about London unescorted, James, surely you see that? Someone is trying to dispatch you to the afterlife and you seem hell-bent on allowing it to happen!” Eden snapped.
James sent Cam a look as if to say “help,” however the younger man just raised his hands and smiled.
“While I do not make a habit of agreeing with any member of my family and most especially not Eden,” Cam said, rolling his eyes as Eden poked out her tongue. “In this I fear she is correct. It was folly to gad about unprotected. Perhaps in future may I suggest you take one of your protectors with you.”
“Dukes do not gad anywhere, Sinclair,” James said, “and I do not need a protector.”
“Cam is right, you must take more care, James.”
“I need a drink,” James growled, his earlier good mood having fled with the start of the discussion about his death. The thump he had taken to the side of the head last night had been throbbing steadily all morning, and now Eden’s haranguing had made it worse. Stalking to the table, James reached for the decanter. Pulling out the stopper and t
ipped a large amount into a glass.
“You took more than a punch to your jaw, didn’t you?” Eden said, as she and Cam followed him. “Your movements would suggest your ribs are also sore.”
“Don’t fuss, Eden, I am well.”
Cam laughed. “You sounded just like Dev and me then.”
James grunted something no one but he understood, and then raised his glass to his lips.
“What is it, Cam?”
James watched as Cam sniffed loudly at his sister’s query.
“Don’t drink that!”
James was so surprised at the roared demand he lowered the glass instantly.
“Get Essie!” Cam said, taking the glass from his hands.
“What’s happening?” James said as Eden picked up her skirts and ran from the room. “What the hell is going on, Cam?” he demanded.
“If you will wait for an explanation until my sisters arrive, James, I wish to be sure I have my facts right.”
Eden’s brother had lost all trace of his usual jovial demeanor; his eyes were narrowed as he stared at the glass he still held in his hand.
Several tense minutes later he heard the thud of feet approaching at a run.
“What is it, Cam?” Essie hurried into the room with Eden on her heels.
“This drink contains poison, Ess, but I need you to confirm it.”
“What!” James roared. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Cam said softly, and that one word told James that whatever was in that glass was intended to kill him. He watched Essex Sinclair take the glass in her hands and dip her handkerchief in the liquid. She then allowed one drop to fall on the tip of her finger, which she rubbed on her teeth.
“No! Surely it will harm you?” James tried to stop the woman.
Eden placed a hand on his arm. “It will not harm her, James. Such a small amount will have no impact on Essie, but she will determine what the poison is.”
James stood silently at Eden’s side, watching the Sinclairs. How had Cam known there was poison in his glass, and how did Essex know from one drop what that poison was?
“Belladonna.”
