To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,24

He had no desire to prattle on or to make his life seem in any respect more exciting or entertaining than it really was. He led a simple, scholarly life, apart from his ties to the covert operations in which he was now engaged, and it would be rather difficult to describe exactly what he did in a manner that would not bore the family to tears.

But from the sound of it, Hal’s childhood had been particularly eventful. Her parents had traveled about the Continent from time to time and had brought their twins along with them on occasion. While she might not have attended suppers, by her own admission moments ago, she clearly benefited from her mother’s peculiar parental tendencies, similar in style to her cousin, le baron.

“And how is your dear brother, then?” de Rouvroy inquired after slurping a spoonful of soup uncomfortably loudly. “I know your mother was not pleased about his being called Hunter, but your father would insist upon it.”

Hal smiled at that, but John could feel the tension in it from where he sat. “Hunter is well enough. I don’t know if you have heard, but he has left Society. Nearly ruined us all, you know, with his gambling and his ungentlemanly behavior. Quite a pariah now, and he seems content to remain so.”

The baron looked sympathetic. “Oh, I am grieved to hear it. Is there nothing to be done to repair his reputation?”

“If he seemed at all repentant, it might help.” Hal shrugged and dipped her spoon into the soup before her. “But alas, he is not, and will not be.”

“Brothers can be a trial,” Agathe broke in from her seat, glaring coldly at her own brother without any preamble.

René returned her look, wide-eyed and surprised. “Qu’est ce que j’ai fait?” he demanded.

Agathe gave no response and only shrugged as she buttered a roll from her plate.

“I have a brother myself,” John broke in, unsure why he was doing so, turning his attention to the head of the table. “Younger. And he is a trial, as well, I can assure you.”

Hal forced a laugh and nodded for effect. “Oh, that he is!” She smiled at de Rouvroy. “You’d like him, I think, cousin. Full of good humor and mischief, and practically irreverent about anything.”

“It is a wonder, then, that you married this one,” the baron remarked with a teasing lift of one brow.

John’s stomach clenched, and it was all he could do to smoothly continue to eat his supper as if the statement meant nothing. As if he were completely secure in his wife’s affections. As if the question had been asked dozens of times before.

As if the marriage had been one of choice.

“Oh, he wouldn’t have done for me at all,” Hal scoffed loudly, laughing at the very idea. “He is good for a laugh, I grant you, but in small dosages only. I would not trade my husband for his brother for anything. I have surely gained the better of the Pratt brothers, cousin, and I stand by my choice.”

Choice.

But there hadn’t been a choice. They could probably have done the mission without the marriage that had come with it, but the decision had not been theirs to make. She could have said no during the vows, he supposed, though it would have irritated their superiors that she was again making things difficult. She could have refused, and they would have made do.

She hadn’t refused, but could she say she had chosen?

“That must give you some comfort, monsieur.”

John blinked and looked up at the baron, unable to even pretend at a smile. “It does, sir. More than you know.”

Hal’s hand crept across the tabletop to cover his where it rested, then curved her fingers around his hand gently.

One heartbeat, perhaps two passed, and John shifted his own fingers enough to hold her hand as it held his.

Hal gave him a tiny smile, the pressure against his hand increasing for just a moment before she returned her attention to the baron. “Hunter did make an appearance at our very small wedding. Just long enough to do his duty and wish us well.”

“Did you get a trousseau for your wedding?” Agathe asked with sudden interest. “You cannot go out in our society without the parure nécessaire. It would be an embarrassment.”

“Never fear, cousine,” Hal said with a smile that was more mischief than anything else. “We have all that we need, I promise you that.”

Chapter Six

“Why does my hair feel even worse now