“Daisy is nineteen.” He held her gaze for a moment.
She looked away. “Has she debuted? Or was I not invited?”
“She has not.”
That made her look up again. “Why not?”
He wasn’t sure. His mother had said something about needing more polish. “I’m told she isn’t ready. She is rather shy. She doesn’t have your spirit.”
She raised a brow. “Is that a compliment?”
He sighed but couldn’t fight a smile. “We’re not enemies, Lady Amelia.”
“But we’re not friends, either.”
He sobered.We could be.He almost suggested it, but then he remembered. The longer he watched her, the harder it became to look away. Now they would be sharing a roof. That was already a scandal in and of itself. The temptation she presented was too great. He had to keep the wall between them.
“No, we’re not.”
Chapter Three
Household members beganleaving flowers by the door to Alston’s bedchamber—Graham had nearly tripped over then that first day—but few dared to enter other than Petrov and Mrs. Keen. The housekeeper kept him and Lady Amelia fed that day and reminded them to change their clothes and clean their faces.
The second day, Alston remained the same. He was still too exhausted by his wounds to say more than a few words at a time, but he was alive. The longer he stayed that way the better his odds were, according to Dr. Bradley after his morning visit. Though his utter shock at Alston’s continued existence annoyed Graham and enraged Lady Amelia.
After that first night, when he’d dared to touch her not once but three times—on the stairs, holding her at Alston’s bedside, the hand on her shoulder—he did not venture so close again, though he ached to give her comfort. When she wasn’t furious with the doctor, she appeared so forlorn and small beside her brother. The two of them were near the same height, but as a man, Alston was broader, an inch taller, and thicker, while she was sleek and rounder in the hip.
Their main difference of personality was her stubbornness and Alston’s ability to balance his impetuous streaks with coollogic. She was fire, while Alston was steel, forged by that same fire but tempered by his responsibilities. Alston had matured young, hardened by inheriting his title at the age of twelve. Lady Amelia, on the other hand, could be infuriatingly impulsive and selfish, even now that she was grown. Alston claimed she deserved to be, and he always gave her everything she asked for, desperate to fill the void their parents’ deaths had left in her heart. He had protected her as well as he’d been able, sheltered her as often as he could, though it sounded as though she’d had to largely fend for herself with her aunt and cousin. And the result was a beautiful, intelligent woman with less sense of accountability than she should have and no fear.
But right now, she was as brittle as glass. If he touched her, she might shatter, surely taking slices of him with her.
By the third day, he stank to high heaven, and he let Petrov convince him to retire to bathe.
The distance gave him clarity, and he thought about what Alston had asked of him.
Aunt Ruth will take everything away from her, including her spirit. She is of age. She cannot be forced to marry, but they will try. They know she has our mother’s inheritance. It’s equal to half the Alston estate. Protect her, Graham. You don’t have to marry her—I know you’re too different to get on comfortably. But she needs someone. As much as she won’t admit it, she needs someone to shelter her.
It was a lot for Alston to say, and it had taken a lot out of him, but Graham hadn’t been able to tell Lady Amelia about it before she’d shot him down. The notion of marriage had stunned him, threatening to wake sleeping desires he’d buried long ago. Nothing was easy regarding Lady Amelia. He should have been kinder to her over the years and spoken with her enough to earn a bit of her trust, but whenever he got too close to her, the attraction he fought to keep hidden took hold. He never thoughthe’d be in this position. In days past, Alston had named him her guardian, though it wouldn’t be legal anymore, not at her age. She was free to do as she wished with herself and with her own money. But a woman alone in the world was in peril.
He had, at least, made sure that the vultures circling their family had not been alerted to Alston’s condition. And he hoped his truce with Lady Amelia would last long enough for him to make arrangements to see her protected—however that needed to happen.
Graham returned to Alston’s room to find Lady Amelia gone and Petrov changing the bedding—difficult to do alone with Alston still in the bed. Graham hurried to assist him. Once finished, Petrov handed Graham a note.
“This just came.”
Graham slit open the fine envelope. “An invitation to Sir Daniel’s private card game at the Lyon’s Den. Suffice it to say Lord Alston will be declining.”
“But Lord Alston has never missed an event, and I know we must keep his secret for Lady Amelia’s sake. Won’t this be seen as odd?”
“It’s short notice,” Graham muttered.
“It is Sir Daniel’s way, says his lordship. He likes to keep opponents on their toes.”
Graham grunted. He didn’t gamble, but Alston was quite good at cards, and they’d spent many nights at the Lyon’s Den carousing as members. “I know Sir Daniel, but I’ve never received an invitation to one of his private games. And Lord Alston can’t go. There is no doubt about that.”
Petrov wiped Alston’s face. “You’ll think of something. The earl trusts you a great deal, Mr. Blakewood.”
Graham wished he had Petrov’s confidence but his new mantle of protector weighed heavily. He stared at the invitation. Perhaps appealing to Lady Amelia for help would help keep theircommunication smooth in this difficult time. He went in search of her, and a maid led him to her parlor, where she was speaking urgently with the butler, Mr. Keen and the housekeeper, Mrs. Keen.
