He still could not believe that he had itched to touch her the way he had. It was as if he had lost control of his limbs, as if some lost, primal instinct had taken over. He had told himself that it was just sympathy that had him yearning to hold her, but if that were true, then why did he spend most of the night in a heated state of desire as he wondered what those plump lips would taste like? What her bare flesh would feel like against his own? What the sultry sound of her cries of ecstasy would unravel in him?
His taste for women had died that day Evander had been taken from them, and for the last year, he had been content with that. It was far more important to find out what had happened to his brother than to dally in some woman’s bed who had no answers. Yet within a minute of meeting Bridget, those urges he had thought he had lost forever had returned with a vengeance.
As Adrian splashed cold water over himself and got ready for the day, he wondered what kind of man would ignore a woman like Bridget. Even if he found out that Winslow was not responsible for Evander’s death, Adrian reached the conclusion that the man must indeed be insane to ignore a wife such as her.
Ifshe was telling him the truth.
Adrian’s thoughts were still circling around Bridget as he walked into the breakfast room, but they stopped short, as did his footsteps, when he saw the sleep-deprived look on his younger sister’s face. He cocked an amused brow and smirked.
“Trouble sleeping, Elara?” he asked, taking a seat across from her.
Eighteen-year-old Elara lifted her weary blue eyes to Adrian and gave him an annoyed look.
“You do not look much better, brother,” she answered testily.
“Touché,” Adrian chuckled as his cup of coffee and breakfast plate were brought to him. He was sure he looked horrid and fathomed that he had the same bags under his eyes as Elara did.
“It is unfair that only married women are allowed to have breakfast in bed,” she said, resting her head on her fist. “You know well that Evander ignored that rule and allowed me to break my fast in such a way. Why must you be such a tyrant?”
Adrian forced a smirk, even though his heart pulsed with misery at the mention of their older brother. The knowledge that he could never live up to Evander’s standards had him in a constant state of lack, and such knowledge was doing nothing to help his concentration.
“Because I rarely get to see you, except when we break our fast together,” Adrian explained matter-of-factly.
Elara rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed pink—something Adrian knew happened when she suddenly felt guilty.
“Besides, if I were a tyrant, would you truly believe that I would let you sneak out at night?” Adrian went on, looking over at her from the mouth of his cup.
He swallowed his first deep sip of coffee as Elara’s eyes grew wide and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. The energy from the strong brew perked him up a little bit, and he managed a fiendish grin.
“You really did not believe that I would leave you and Mother alone without guards, did you?” he asked with a mocking tone. “What sort of man would that make me?”
“Do not tell Mama,” Elara demanded.
“As long as you do not give me a reason to, I will not,” he answered with a shrug, then took another deep sip of his coffee. “Which means you follow my rules and stop comparing them to Evander’s.”
Elara let out a sound of frustration as she flicked her long black curls behind her shoulder.
“I detest society’s rules, you know,” she said icily. “Young men are encouraged to go out and be adventurous and bold,yet young ladies are not allowed to do anything! All we are permitted to do is sit inside with our books and our embroidery and look pretty.”
“Well, I cannot speak for your education or your talent for thread, but you do look quite lovely, sister,” Adrian teased.
Elara gave him a look that pleaded with him to take her seriously, but then she cracked a smile and relaxed.
“You truly are not going to tell Mama?” she asked.
“As long as you are not foolish,” he replied. “And from what I have been told, the disguises you wear to sneak out of the house are quite creative. Which is why you are going to confess what it is you believe you and Caroline are accomplishing by sneaking out so late.”
Elara’s small smile dropped, and her cheeks turned pink yet again as she began to tear her piece of toast into tiny pieces.
“I have been looking for clues,” she said, barely loud enough for Adrian to hear.
“Clues to what?” Adrian asked. “Have you and Caroline started playing a new game?”
“No,” Elara said, shaking her head as she kept her eyes on her plate. “I have been looking for Evander’s killer.”
Adrian’s forkful of fish froze an inch from his open mouth, and his eyes darted back to his little sister.
“You are doingwhat?”he demanded, his fork clattering as he forcefully brought it back down to his plate.
