The first time, when she was sixteen, the boy had surprised her. He’d pressed his lips against hers so hard it had hurt. Clara had slapped him, and he’d rubbed his cheek with a grin on his face. The second time had been last year. A man who Pa worked with used to stop by and wait for her father. Until he kissed her and Pa walked in.
That kiss had not hurt, but it had been… wet. While she hadn’t thought it unpleasant, it certainly hadn’t created a whirlwind inside her like the heroines in a romance. Clara suddenly wanted to know what Mr. Norton’s kiss would be like. If his smile caused such lightheadedness, she would probably swoon.
His hand went to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She closed her eyes, anticipating his lips. Which landed on her forehead. Her forehead? As if he were her father!
“May I see you again?” he asked, tucking her hand back under his elbow and moving them forward.
Clara smiled and nodded. Of course, he was a gentleman. And she was a lady with little experience, who should be thankful he wasn’t the type to take advantage of her. “I’d like that,” she said simply.
CHAPTER 5
Elijah couldn’t wipe the stupid grin from his face. He had to get hold of himself before he arrived at the O’Briens. Maggie or Nora would know with a glance that something was amiss. He’d seen them observe Harry, Sampson, then Clayton, each time declaring the men had met someone. But he wanted to keep Miss Clara Alberts with the ruby red hair a secret for a little while. Keep her all to himself until he knew just where to place her in the puzzle of his life. But she would fit somewhere, he had no doubt.
He entered the O’Briens’ home, never knocking from years of habit. The entryway was lit with an oil lamp, and the house was oddly quiet. In front of him to the left was a stairway leading up to a drawing room and the bedchambers on the first and second floor. To his right was the parlor where they gathered informally and occasionally met with clients interested in the O’Brien Investigative Service.
Arooooo. Arooo.
Aonarach, their Irish wolfhound howled from the kitchen. Elijah shook his head, wondering who was teasing him as he walked the length of the hall to the kitchen. Sitting at the large oak table in the center of the kitchen was his sister, Honora, the youngest of their original clan. Her bright red hair gleamed in the flames dancing in the hearth as she held a tidbit up for the dog.
“Shake on it,” said Nora, holding out her hand. The wolfhound lifted a giant paw.
“Good boy,” she said enthusiastically, rubbing his grayish-white wiry coat. “Again. Shake on it.”
This time, Aonarach only howled plaintively again and looked to Eli for help. “He’s not a circus animal you can teach to perform. Give the poor beast the bread.”
Nora looked over her shoulder, green eyes narrowed at her brother. “I may take him on stage with me. This is between me and Aonarach.” She turned back to the dog, who was again holding up his paw.
Nora wiped her hands on a towel and stood to kiss Eli’s cheek. “How are you, Brother? Haven’t seen you for at least a week.”
“Catching criminals is a never-ending toil,” he said, laughing when she rolled her eyes. “Is Paddy about?”
She shook her head. “He took Maggie out for a meal and a show. She was dressed in her Sunday best and Paddy looked like a smitten schoolboy.”
“Love brings a man to his knees,” said Gus from the doorway, giving Nora a forlorn look. He gave Eli a slap on the back and put one leg up on a chair, raised his face to the ceiling and let out a long howl. Aonarach soon joined him.
Nora clapped her hands on her ears. “Fine, fine.” She tossed a hunk of bread to the dog, then stuffed one in Gus’s mouth.
“Well, I think Paddy and Maggie are a fine example of how to keep love alive.” Eli said as he sat down at the table, reaching for a round of bread Nora had been picking from. He tore off a hunk and popped it in his mouth. “Do you think we’ll find someone like they did?”
Nora scrunched her mouth as she thought. “We have three brothers who have, so the odds are against us.”
“If they’ve been successful, wouldn’t that put the odds in our favor?” asked Gus, waggling his thick, dark brows at Honora. It was common knowledge that Gus had been smitten with Nora since she entered the house wrapped in swaddling. He used to watch her in her cradle, worried she would die in her sleep like countless other babes. Nora loved the huge monstrosity of a man like a brother and good-naturedly put up with his pining.
Yet when Gus had been shot during an investigation, Nora had been by his side for two days. She’d cared for him, cried for him, and ordered him not to die. Who knew what might happen in the future.
She shook her head. “Everyone can’t be that happy. Fate isn’t that kind. At least a couple of us will be miserable or alone.”
“Or both?” Elijah clicked his tongue. “Don’t tempt fate. She’ll always prove you wrong if you try to figure her out.”
“Why does fate have to be a woman?” Nora held up a hand. “Don’t say because she’s fickle.”
Eli laughed. “Because she’s unpredictable.”
“Touche!” Nora stood and took three glasses from a shelf. “Some ale?”
Both men nodded. “I’m on a case and need another brain to help me pick through it.”
Explaining the situation, Eli sat back and waited for his sister and brother to sift through the facts. “Have you checked the employee list to see if there was a man in common? Perhaps under a different name?” asked Nora.
