“Sibling rivalry,” another guest, James Masters, said. He gave Juliana a familiar smile, one that used to warm her insides. Now she compared his face to the stern visage of another. The image of Mr. Duffy’s set jaw made her stomach flutter. The inquiry agent probably didn’t know how to smile.
James crossed one leg over the other. “There were rumors that one of the miner’s sisters urged him on to start the rioting, which led to a discussion of other sisters who were trouble for their brothers, which led us here.”
“And is it only the sisters who are culpable in these instances?” Juliana asked mildly. “I personally know that brothers can be just as incorrigible.”
The room laughed.
“Especially when it’s your brother,” Mr. Rose said. “Where is Snowdon anyhow? Has he become too good for us now that he’s found a new crowd of friends? I haven’t seen your father in what feels like ages. Am I to lose the society of the son, as well?”
“His new friends?” Juliana ran a jerky hand over her hair. She needed to speak with Snow. If he wasn’t attending their usual salons, she didn’t know how she was to talk to him without going to their home, which was something she very much wanted to avoid. She needed the safety of acquaintances about them when they spoke. Snow wouldn’t dare try anything in public, not if his actions would cause a stir.
“I saw him at the Turk’s Head Tuesday last when I went for my morning coffee. He was surrounded by an unwashed group of louts, and didn’t bother to acknowledge my presence.” Rose’s voice was all amusement, as though being snubbed by a viscount was a common occurrence.
Which was why Juliana enjoyed the man’s company so much. Aside from being brilliant, he truly didn’t care a whit how people liked him. His poetry wasn’t for the faint of heart, and had made him infamous just as much as famous. But it was his new debate society that Juliana truly admired. As soon as this business with her father was resolved, she would double down on her efforts to be invited onto it.
“It was Wednesday, and I was trying to be kind.” Snowdon swept into the room, running a hand through his shaggy, dark hair. “If those blighters had known I was acquainted withtheRodger Rose, they would have swarmed you like locusts on wheat. And expected you to buy the next round of coffee and cake.”
Her brother’s gaze landed on her, and he stilled. “Juliana.”
Giving him an even smile, she stood and crossed to him. She kissed his cheek. “Good afternoon, brother. I hope you are well.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest. “I was so worried.”
Feeling too many pairs of curious eyes on them, Juliana grabbed her brother’s hand and tugged him to the door. “Do you mind if we use the front sitting room?” she asked Rose. “We’ll just be a moment.”
The poet waved his hand. “Go, go. Have your secrets. Perhaps we’ll be past talk of traveling the stars by the time you return.”
She tugged Snow down the hall and enclosed them in the empty room. She smoothed the stomach of her gown and put some space between her and her brother. Now that she had an audience with Snow, she didn’t know where to start. “How are you?”
“How am I?” He fisted his hands on his hips. “How bloody am I? I’ve been worried sick wondering how my sister fares, or if she was even alive.”
“I did write.” She narrowed her eyes. “It was most unseemly of you to send out detectives to hunt me down. I’m a grown woman.”
“You are my sister, my responsibility.” He paced the room. “And after Pickens went mad and attacked you, I wanted you back home, safe where you belong.”
“Father is still head of this family,” she pointed out.
Snow snorted. “In name only, as you well know. He spends nearly all his time with those damn chickens, leaving me in charge of Bluff Hall.”
Juliana chuckled, both at the picture her brother created and at her brother. Their father was inordinately proud of his chickens, though, to his credit, his breeding program had created some fine birds. But for Snow to think he managed Bluff Hall was equally laughable. Their father wasn’t the most attentive steward, but he did his duty.
Her brother enjoyed the appearance of his duty rather than the work itself.
“Come home.” Snow stepped forward and took her hand. “We’ve missed you.”
“Have you questioned the servants? Made any attempt to discover who wants father dead?”
He shifted his weight. “Come now, Juliana. We’ve indulged your imagination too long. No one is trying to kill father.”
“And Mr. Pickens’s attack on me? Just a coincidence, I suppose.”
“He was stealing from us,” Snow said. “With all your ravings about murderers, he most likely thought you had discovered his thefts. Now that he’s in prison, all is well.”
Then why did her skin crawl just thinking about returning home? She wasn’t one normally subject to flights of fancy. But she also wasn’t one to discount her inner convictions.
And her convictions were telling her something was very wrong at Bluff Hall.
“No.” She rubbed her arm. “I’ll continue staying with friends.” Hopefully out in the open. No more hiding in bedrooms. “Now, about this detective—”
