He sat up abruptly. “Listen, all of you.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him expectantly.
Camellia did not require his impending words of wisdom. She had never once gone against Society’s expectations or their parents’ wishes. Bryony and Dahlia, however…
He took a deep breath. As their elder brother, it was important to do and say the right thing.
“I love all of you. I love who you are, I love how you are, and I cannot wait to see what you’ll become.”
Bryony narrowed one eye. “But?”
“But I’m just me,” he said simply. “One man. Your big brother. And much as I wish I could control how you’re treated by the rest of Society, I cannot change their views, or their rules, or their expectations. In this room, you can be whoever and however you want. But for the rest of the world, what othersthinkabout who and how you are carries more weight than how and who youactuallyare. Do you understand?”
Bryony scoffed. “No.”
“I understand.” Dahlia leaned away from him and crossed her arms. “But I disagree. It isn’t the rest of the world that cares more about appearances than souls. It’s the peerage. Do you think the girls at my school gave a fig when I lost my subscription to Almack’s?”
“Your girls might not know what Almack’s is,” Camellia said, her voice soft. “But it’s naïve to say they don’t care about what others think. Why else would they be in a boarding school?”
“To prevent their fathers from beating them? If indeed they are ‘lucky’ enough to have one?” Dahlia’s face darkened with anger. “To finally end night after night of shame and agony when some drunken toff catches them in the street and decides to—”
“You’re both right,” Bryony interrupted quickly. “Almost everyone is driven more by how others perceive them than by their own passions. But we can choose to be the same or to be different. I, for one, choose not to give a button what anyone thinks.”
Heath groaned. This conversation had taken a sharp detour. “What I’m trying to say is—”
“They know what you’re trying to say,” Camellia said gently. “You’ve made a career of helping Society keep up appearances. Peoplepayyou to stop them from becoming other people’s gossip fodder. The impact of one’s reputation is an indisputable, obvious fact.”
It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “…but?”
“But it’s not the whole story. I happen to agree with you. Bryony does not. And Dahlia…” Camellia gazed sympathetically at their sister. “Dahlia knows you’re right, and has chosen to follow her heart anyway.”
“What Cam means,” Bryony began with a toss of her head, “is that we received your message. Just don’t expect us to change a thing. We are not your paying customers.”
No, they were not. Heath gazed at his sisters. They had become his responsibilities the moment of their births. Nor would he have it any other way.
When Camellia had been too shy to attract dance partners, Heath had made it fashionable to ensure no wallflower’s dance card went empty. When Dahlia had opened her boarding school, Heath had personally assuaged the concerns of Society matrons suddenly unsure about extending their invitations to all members of the Grenville clan.
His sisters had always been Heath’s top priority clients.
They just never realized it.
“While you’re here…” Camellia rustled some papers atop her writing desk in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Can we discuss the score for the next musicale?”
Dahlia lay back, resting her head against the plush carpet. “What’s to discuss? The songs haven’t changed since Mother created the first arrangement. You all sound perfectly lovely each time, and everyone returns home deservedly astonished by your talent.”
“By Camellia’s and Bryony’s talent,” Heath corrected. “Mother is far more accomplished at the pianoforte than I am.”
Bryony glanced over at him in alarm. “You cannot let her replace you. It would no longer be the Grenville sibling musicale!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her. “My semi-competent fingers are yours for as long as they can be of middling service.”
Dahlia turned toward him. “You don’t have to, you know. I don’t go on stage, and lightning hasn’t struck me yet.”
“Yet,” Heath teased back.
He didn’t participate in the musicales because he loved the pianoforte, but because he loved his family. Camellia’s voice was unparalleled; her passion for singing was present in every note. He was awestruck of her.
Bryony might not feel passionate toward the violin, but she found the exercise amusing. Watching his sister have fun with four strings and a bow was just as much fun for Heath as it was for her. That Bryony had been a child prodigy with the violin and had only grown more skillful as she matured made sharing the stage with her an honor, not a duty.
