Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,132
She blew out the flame on the candle, snatched up her wrapper, and slipped into it as she headed out of the room. Quickly, but silently, she made her way down the back staircase to the kitchen.
Opening the door, she stepped out onto the stoop. “Marcus? Griff?”
Two large silhouettes emerged silently from the darkness like wraiths in the night. She might have screamed had she not been expecting them. “Come inside. No one is about to disturb us.”
She’d learned only too well that voices could carry outside.
Returning inside, she waited. As noiselessly as fog rolling in, her brothers fairly crept over the threshold, Marcus closing the door in their wake.
She barely recognized them. Their features were the same, but they seemed more substantial than before. An alertness hovered around them as they took in their surroundings, a tight energy escaped them. They came off as powerful and dangerous, men to be reckoned with. Marcus, especially. He reminded her of a viper she’d seen at the zoological gardens, poised to strike at the smallest of provocations.
“Would you like some scotch?” She’d brought in a bottle earlier, set it on the table, in preparation of welcoming them.
Marcus met her gaze, his blue eyes icy, sending a shiver through her. His sable hair was long, almost as long as Benedict’s. The shade made his eyes stand out all the more. “No, thank you. It dulls the senses, slows the reflexes.”
She feared they were constantly in want of both. Their jackets did not flow smoothly over their torsos, and she suspected pistols, knives, and weapons with which she was not familiar were tucked away.
“What did you need of us, Althea?” Griffith asked, a fissure of irritation in his voice at the inconvenience.
No hug, then, no joyful reunion. He had changed in the months since she’d last seen him, and she suspected he no longer apologized for his actions. His hair was longer. Like Marcus, he was in need of a razor.
“I have something for you.” She picked up the paper-wrapped packet she’d placed on the table earlier when she’d brought in the scotch and extended it to Marcus.
He peered into the package, riffled through the banknotes. “It looks to be about four thousand pounds.” He pinned her with his gaze. “How did you come to have this?”
“I earned most of it tutoring the ladies.” She blushed, not certain why she felt a need to confess the rest, perhaps because she wanted them to know she had changed as well. “A little over a thousand I earned at the gaming tables.”
“You’ve been gambling?” Griffith asked, and for a heartbeat he reminded her of the brother with whom she’d lived for three months and she almost smiled.
“Only once. I thought the money might help you in your quest . . . or even make it unnecessary.”
“It’s a kind gesture, but you should keep it, Althea. You might have a need of it,” Marcus said.
“I won’t. I’m to marry. An announcement will appear in the papers in a couple of days, but I wanted to tell you before you read about it.”
“I haven’t given you permission to marry.”
The words were so stern, so absolute, that she released a blunt laugh. “I don’t need your permission, Marcus. I’ve lived on my own these few months and I shall do as I wish.”
“Who negotiated the settlement? What are the terms?”
In spite of his callousness, it appeared he still cared about her. “No settlement. I’m not in need of one. I love him, and he loves me. I’ll never be without.”
“You’re marrying Trewlove,” Griffith stated with certainty.
She glanced at him, smiled. “Yes, although as it turns out he’s the son and heir of the Duke of Glasford.”
“Bloody hell.”
Her smile grew. “Yes, I think he might have reacted the same way when he discovered the truth of things.”
She gave her attention back to Marcus. “I know part of the reason behind whatever it is you’re doing was to ensure I have a good match. I’ve acquired that.” On my own. “So if you’re putting yourself in danger on my account, please know there is no need.”
His features softened, his eyes warmed, and she saw a flicker of the brother she’d once known. “There is no honor to be had for Father, but we can restore honor to the family. You’ll want that for your children.”
She took a step toward him. “What I want is for my children to know their uncles.”