The Duke is Wicked (League of Lords #3) - Tracy Sumner Page 0,20
handsome. Not as impressive as Finn, because almost no one was, but attractive enough to garner attention and not know, at this delicate age, what to do with it. “Normal? What gave you the idea she’s”—he jerked his thumb toward Delaney—“normal?”
Sebastian wiggled a flask from his waistcoat pocket and took a lazy sip. He wasn’t going to tell the boy it was only tea. “Oh, I meant you. I know she’s not normal. Gone into that closet of hers twice and come out with information she shouldn’t know. While I watched. Regrettably, she and I are long past normal.”
“Attic,” Case whispered, “not a closet.”
Sebastian stilled, the flask dropping to his thigh. “Come again?” he asked, his fingertips starting to sizzle.
Case released a breath that sounded like he’d been holding for years. Conceivably, the young man was coming to realize he wasn’t going to have to shield his sister all on his own anymore. At least, for a time. “It’s her story, not mine. And not for me to share. You need to ask her about the way her mind works…” He slouched until his bootheels bumped the carriage seat across from him, rocking Delaney slightly, but thank God, not waking her. She hadn’t slept well the night before, if the dark slashes beneath her eyes meant anything. “She goes into that attic and thinks it’s two minutes when it’s two hours.”
Interesting. Disturbing. “Where does this happen?”
Case held out his hand. Sebastian sighed and gave him the flask, thinking to tell him it contained no comfort. “Everywhere, anywhere. In the middle of the street. A market. A ballroom. Nearly run down more than once while she flipped pages in her mind.” He drew a circle around his temple with the flask, the letter A etched on the metal glinting in the lamplight. After a moment, he took a drink, coughed to find it wasn’t what he’d expected, and thrust it back in Sebastian’s direction with a grimace. “I prefer coffee, just so you know. Anyway, she’s created her own jail and locked herself in, though she doesn’t realize it.”
Sebastian tucked the flask in his pocket, thinking how wise a deduction this was. For Delaney, for him. “I ask again, why did you leave America?”
Case traced another raindrop as it wobbled down the window and gave a broad-shouldered shrug. “Not for me to say.”
Fine, Sebastian decided. Time to play cricket. “Do you know where Seven Dials is?”
Case grunted, gave the glass pane a hard tap with his knuckle. “Who doesn’t? A gin palace down there I quite like, The Rosy Dell, though you risk your neck getting to it.”
“I caught your sister headed there last night, dressed in your clothing, I presume, to meet a rather menacing bloke who completed our circle of association, mine and Delaney’s. And since you asked, the reason you’re sitting in this carriage on the way to Oxfordshire was the note her messenger provided.”
“She did what?” Case’s face went as white as the folded vellum tucked in Sebastian’s pocket. The runner’s note he’d purloined from Delaney after their trek to the rookery, and refused to return.
Sebastian extracted the Soul Catcher from his waistcoat, lamplight striking the stone’s facets and sending a dazzling crimson array across their boots. “This bauble is very valuable to me and the people you’ll meet here, but it’s not an item a troublesome American heiress should know anything, and I mean anything, about.”
“Why would she then?”
“Delaney hinted that she’s protecting you as well as herself. Do you have any idea why that would be?”
“I know, but it’s her story.” Case brought his hand to his head and rubbed hard, as if he could wipe out the memory. “I’m not lying. I just can’t tell you.” He swallowed, and Sebastian could see he was close to tears. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a twin who’s different. Be the only man left in her life. Be the oldest by five minutes, forced to keep her safe when she can’t help who she is.”
“No, but I know what it’s like to have brothers who can’t help who they are, when all I want to do is keep them safe.” Julian, Finn, Simon. Sebastian rolled the Soul Catcher between his palms and felt it warm against his skin. With modest effort, he refrained from staring at the bothersome bundle sleeping on the seat four feet away. One minor move and he could touch her. Stroke his finger across her cheek, the nape of her