Before, he’d held a book, half-falling from his hand in a negligible pose. Now, the hand still stretched down — to pet a poodle with a giant pink bow that perfectly matched the wall hangings.
“A poodle?” he choked out
“Shall I ring for tea?” she asked, ignoring him. “Lucia should be down momentarily. I can only assume your brother will do your bidding as he always does.”
“I detest poodles.”
She stood and tugged the frilly lavender cord that served as a bellpull. “Again, an artist’s license. If you had given word that you were coming home, I would have replaced it. Perhaps I could have you pat Marcus’s head instead? Or does he work for gold, not affection?”
Marcus strode into the study in time to hear her words. “Ellie, I am truly sorry,” he said, with the resigned voice of a man who knew his apology would go unheard.
She waved a hand. “It was my fault for forgetting you were a Claiborne. I should have expected you to bring me to grief.”
Nick watched her sit again. She was prickly this morning, with all her armor in place. In this mood, with those blue eyes sparking instead of softening, he could almost believe that the previous night had been another one of his dreams.
But this wasn’t the woman he dreamed of. A footman arrived and she sent him for tea, then turned her daggered gaze back on Nick and Marcus. “If you don’t mind, let us postpone any more words until my poor maid arrives. I am sure she is just as eager to know why she was forced to kill a man as I am.”
“And as I am,” Marcus said, shooting a dark look at Nick. “Mrs. Grafton should never have been in such danger.”
“Should I have been?” Ellie asked.
Marcus colored slightly. “Of course not. But Mrs. Grafton deserves better.”
Nick sighed. Ellie looked like she wanted to draw blood, but he needed his brother and his — whatever Ellie was to him — to stay away from each other’s throats. “Let us take Ellie’s suggestion,” he interjected. “The explanation should wait until we are all assembled.”
He didn’t understand why Ellie had insisted on her maid’s presence. It was nearly as unusual as Marcus’s concern for the woman. But then, Lucia had shot a man, and it was likely Nick’s fault she had been forced to do it.
The silence turned uncomfortable immediately. Ellie folded her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead. Marcus leaned against the mantel, not looking at anyone, and wound his watch with the slow, methodical grace of an assassin awaiting an opportunity. Nick eyed the whisky decanter. But even in that room, with two people who might wish him just as dead as his unknown enemy did, Nick still thought it was too early for a drink.
And so he was relieved when Lucia and the tea cart arrived at the same time. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, my lady,” Lucia said. “I had to finish the task you gave me.”
She didn’t apologize to the men — didn’t even acknowledge them as she walked directly to Ellie and handed her two sheets of paper. Ellie nodded as she took the papers. “Of course, Mrs. Grafton. You haven’t inconvenienced us at all. Please, do be seated.”
Nick’s eyebrows rose. Lucia was graceful, direct, and perfectly serene — more gentlewoman than servant, and nothing like what he had expected. She had been calm the previous day, in the few minutes he had seen her before Marcus had taken her away, but he had assumed that was due to the shock she’d had. She should have been more affected, like any raw recruit who had killed in battle for the first time. But she was still calm — and when she met his eyes, the direct look in hers said she would welcome the opportunity to take a shot at him as well.
Make that three people in the study who wanted him dead.
As soon as the footman had left, Marcus clicked his watch shut. “You’ve evaded us long enough, Nick. What the devil are you mixed up in?”
“I’m not evading. We couldn’t discuss this last night, not if we didn’t want everyone in the house to know.”
“Shouldn’t they know?” Ellie asked, setting aside the papers Lucia had given her. “I know you said you have a plan, but I don’t want my guests to be harmed.”
“You are welcome to ask them to leave, if you are so eager to be alone