Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,66
her for a full two minutes before he threw his head back and laughed like a man who’d lost his senses.
“Why do you laugh at me?”
“You’re having a joke. Why would you make the meal?”
“It’s a very long story. Let’s just say I fell into a trap made of my own stubborn pride.”
He began to laugh again. Not the reaction she expected.
“When I arrived, I asked to speak to the man in charge and the boy downstairs looked at me rather strangely. He asked if I wouldn’t rather speak to the woman in charge, since the man was injured and not able to run the inn. I thought he meant Blake’s wife. Are you telling me you’re the woman in charge?”
“Sort of. Blake was injured and I stepped in to help him, but it was my own fault and I forgot the kind of boy he was and... It’s another rather long story.” She babbled. She never babbled. Too many half truths were going to make it very hard to keep her stories straight.
“Does he know how stubborn you get?”
“He does now.”
St. Ives shook his head before turning back toward his own room. His chuckles carried back to her along with the words, “Poor Blake.”
Chapter Seventeen
Poor Blake was already at a loose end by the time St. Ives made it to his office. Had she told him? Should he brace for a fight or welcome an old friend and offer him a glass of something able to stand on its own two feet? He needed two glasses before he could summon the courage to open his office door. Things could not have gotten further out of hand.
What no one, not even Sophie or Matthew knew, was that Daemon and Blake were half brothers. It was the reason they hadn’t been in the same room for years for fear that someone would recognize the similarities between the both of them and the previous duke.
When Daemon had discovered who his real father was, he’d come to confront the man. Courageous for a twenty-one-year-old trying not to reveal his mother’s secrets. He’d also paid a visit to the tavern to meet his half brother. The sibling he hadn’t known about until their sire let the information slip. On purpose? They still weren’t sure. There was probably an ulterior motive for the revelation, but by then the old duke’s mind had cracked. Daemon had only sought Blake out so he could know if Blakiston lied or not. Though they had different color hair, the other resemblances were too strong to deny the truth.
Blake eyed Daemon warily, tried to gauge the other man’s mood as he watched him pick his way through the crowded taproom. The morning rain that had just started to fall was proving to be good for business, and lunch would see the place packed to the rafters as men sought refuge from the cold.
As Daemon came to stand in the doorway, Blake stepped back like the coward he was. He didn’t say a word. Just waited. Never had he felt more like a younger brother than in that moment.
Daemon looked him up and down from his boots to his head and back again, but Blake couldn’t detect any anger, no fury set to be loosed.
“They told me you’d been injured, but you look hale and hearty to me,” Daemon said with a half smile.
Blake released his breath on a relieved sigh. “As do you. Obviously inheriting a dukedom agrees with you.”
“I’m happy if that’s what you are asking.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” There was an awkward pause where Blake simply didn’t know what to say. They hadn’t seen each other in six years. Not even a letter had been exchanged in the three since the old duke’s death. What could he possibly have to say now to the man sleeping with the woman he loved?
“I met your cook earlier,” Daemon said with a chuckle as he settled into the chair opposite Blake’s desk, seemingly oblivious to the roiling tension in the room.
“My cook? I don’t have one.”
“Sophia said she has to cook the meal before she can sit down to eat it.”
Blake scowled. Of course she revealed that part of their story. “It was her fault. She is still as stubborn now as she was at ten years old.”
“You’ve known her a long time then?” Daemon asked. The question seemed an innocent one, but Blake knew better than to fall into that trap.