brother who had died in the not-so-distant past. Decker did not make a habit of following societal gossip, but as many of his businesses were tied to the quality, he did take care in making certain he knew as much of their daily dealings and interconnections as possible.
“You are close to them?” he prodded, giving her room to reveal what she wished to him, but not forcing her into any which would make her uncomfortable.
“I am closest to my sister Alexandra,” she said, turning away and continuing her slow perusal of his naughty alphabet series. “We are near in age, and we remained together, under the care of our aunt Lydia for many years. My brother Ravenscroft was saddled with our father’s debt and pockets to let until he met my sister-in-law, an American heiress. That was when he brought us to live in London. I do wish he had not left us for so long in the care of our aunt after our parents’ deaths. However, I understand the life he was living at the time was ill-suited to young, impressionable ladies being beneath the same roof.”
Decker moved with her, keeping a safe distance to prevent himself from snatching Jo up and kissing her senseless then and there. Sadness gave her voice a throaty edge. He detected a note of resentment. For her brother the earl, perhaps. But Decker was more than familiar with Ravenscroft’s reputation. For years, he had essentially kept himself from utter penury by selling himself to society women who wanted him in their beds.
“You are displeased with your brother for not looking after you and your sister himself,” he observed mildly, forcing himself to remain focused upon their conversation instead of the need for her burning within him.
“It felt as if he had abandoned us,” Jo said, casting him a glance over her shoulder that made his gut clench again. “He is a good man, in spite of his reputation. He would do anything for those he loves. My other brother was nothing like him. He was a selfish, greedy, heartless bastard.”
The vehemence in Jo’s tone took Decker by surprise. Unlike some ladies of his acquaintance, Jo did not relish speaking poorly of others. He had never once heard her issue a cutting remark about another.
“This other brother you speak of, he is dead?” Decker asked solemnly, trying not to pry too much, and yet curious.
To be sure, it was an odd conversation to engage in when he had been intending to seduce her—with kisses, at least—this evening. And yet, he could not deny he was intrigued. He wanted to know what made her who she was.
Jo nodded. “He died after attacking Ravenscroft and his countess. His jealousy made him mad. He believed he was the only rightful heir of our father. Perhaps that is true, and perhaps not. Our mother took many lovers. None of us shall ever know the truth.”
Here was something interesting indeed, the notion that he and Jo had something deeply in common. That both their births were shadowed with scandal. However, where her mother had been properly wed to the former earl, Jo had been shielded from the brunt of scrutiny and scandal.
But Decker was also quite taken aback by the other half of her revelation—that her dead brother had attacked the earl and countess. One could only surmise it had been with the intent to murder them both.
He found himself moving nearer to her, taking her hands in his. “Damnation, Jo, that is a wretched weight to live with.”
Her smile was tremulous. “Life is a wretched weight itself sometimes, is it not? We are given struggles and anguish, and yet there always remains that promise of goodness, looming on the horizon, that rainbow after a punishing rain, that keeps us going on. We have had the promise before, and we know it will come again, even if we are not certain of when or why. I cannot change the past, and therefore, I look to the future.”
And what manner of future? He could not help but to wonder as he studied her stunning face. He had thought her lovely at the onset of this arrangement of theirs. But now… Now, he could see, quite plainly, that she was utterly glorious, in the rarest sense. She was strong and brave, with a wisdom beyond her tender years. Like an orchid in the wild, fragile, stunning, resilient.
Decker swallowed hard against a rush of pure longing. “You are far too young to