This was it. He’d known he would make a misstep. Jane had seemed to encourage his talk on the balcony, but he’d gone too far, and now she was terrorized.
Going in might make it worse, but he couldn’t walk on as if hehadn’t heard anything. He would try to apologize, if she allowed it. Eli rapped softly on the door, then pushed it open.
It wasn’t Jane crying, but Hannah. She sat on her bed, her face red and blotchy.
“Oh!” She hastily wiped her cheeks. “You startled me.”
“What’s happened?” He crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him.
“Nothing. It’s silly. Go back downstairs.” She sniffed wetly. “I still need to change this awful dress before supper, and you’ll make us both late.”
“I’m sure it isn’t silly if it’s made you this upset.”
Eli sat down on the bed next to Hannah and swung his arm around her shoulders. She’d only been twelve when he’d left England on theLibertas. He couldn’t say that he knew much about her life now, who her closest friends were, how she enjoyed passing her time. But she would always be his little sister. It was his job to look out for her, and he’d clearly been remiss.
Distracted.
“You can tell me,” he prodded. “I can keep a secret.”
This was true in the extreme.
“It really is stupid.” Hannah sniffed. “There…there were two gentlemen at the Ascot today whom I overheard talking about me. What they said…wasn’t flattering.”
“They weren’t gentlemen, then,” he observed darkly. “What did they say?”
“That I looked like an oversized flamingo in my frock.” Hannah’s lower lip began to quiver and another tear slipped out.
“That’s cruel and entirely untrue. You look beautiful.” The gown in question was a bright, sunny pink with an excessive amount of ruffles on it. Perhaps a bit loud, but that didn’t give anyone the right to talk about his sister that way.
“My noseistoo long. Everyone notices it.”
“You look beautiful,” Eli repeated firmly. “Who said this about you? I’ll give him a sound thrashing.”
A half smile played at Hannah’s lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You can’t go around hitting people. It’s ungentlemanly.”
“Then I shall challenge him to a duel and run him through with a rapier. A very gentlemanly way to exact revenge.”
Hannah played along. “What if he killed you?”
“He couldn’t possibly. I’m very good at swordplay. I’ve fought pirates, and I’m sure they’re much stronger than this nameless oaf.”
“I don’t want you to make a fuss.” But there was a spark of amusement in Hannah’s eyes that contradicted her words. “No duels.”
“No duels,” he agreed. “And I promise the utmost discretion.”
“Very well.” Hannah bit her lip. “It was John MacPherson.”
“The same MacPherson that was flirting with Jane half the morning?”
The bastard. He’d known there was something off about him.
Hannah looked startled, and he realized his mistake. He tried to set his features back into a detached sort of concern. “Miss Bishop, I should say.”
“I don’t know if they were flirting.” She was still watching him a bit too closely as she spoke. “But he was talking to her earlier, yes.”
“I see.” They might be back to the possibility of a thrashing again.
Hannah seemed to read his thoughts, for she frowned. “What are you going to do? Now I wish I hadn’t told you.”
