You should change out of your wet things. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t. You need to stop drinking. To sleep and eat more…
“That was a brave deed, Your Grace.” Wick’s voice bridged the void.
“It was nothing.” Hadleigh shrugged. “I was glad I was there to assist.”
“It was lucky for Livy that you were,” Wick said seriously. “She is a sweet little thing, if a trifle headstrong. Hopefully she will have learned her lesson.”
A sudden spark of humor lit Hadleigh’s eyes. “Somehow I doubt it.”
Wick grinned. “You are probably right. Her parents have their hands full. And God help the man she one day marries.”
Bea narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Do you have something against strong and independent women?”
“I love them. One in particular,” he said.
Hadleigh let out a rusty laugh. “Smoothly done, Murray.”
“Your sister keeps me on my toes,” Wick replied.
“I do hate to interrupt this male camaraderie, but do you think perhaps my brother ought to get changed?” Bea inquired. “He will catch his death of cold otherwise.”
Wick slung an arm around her waist. “Always the worrier, aren’t you, sweeting?”
“Bea has been that way since we were children,” Hadleigh said.
Bea felt a kick of warmth in her chest at her brother’s easy use of her nickname and the affection that eased the lines on his haggard face.
“Do you blame me?” she said, aiming her gaze ceilingward. “You were forever falling out of trees and the like. Mama was quite convinced that you were accident-prone.”
“Our mama was a worrier too,” Hadleigh quipped.
Wick laughed, and her brother did too. The hope in Bea grew. Perhaps a true rapprochement with her brother was possible after all…
“Hadleigh, there you are!”
At the brittle, silvery tones, Bea stiffened, her hope withering. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Her brother’s wife Arabella had once been her best friend. It was not until after the accident that had left Bea scarred that she’d discovered Arabella’s true nature.
Wick tightened his arm around her waist, and Bea welcomed his strength as Arabella approached. Since she had reconnected with Hadleigh, she had kept his wife at arm’s length. Forgiving her brother was a possibility; forgiving Arabella’s betrayal was not.
Arabella arrived at Hadleigh’s side in a swish of lavish silk and lace. With her inky hair and green eyes, she was a beautiful woman...at least on the surface.
“Your Grace,” Wick said politely.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Murray.” Arabella’s coy tone made Bea grind her teeth, for more than one reason.
Not only was Arabella flirting with Bea’s husband, she seemed completely uncaring of the fact that her own was sopping wet.
“It is a good afternoon, thanks to the heroics of your husband,” Wick said smoothly. “Hadleigh saved the day.”
“Oh?” Smiling thinly, Arabella looked at Hadleigh. “Is that why you are in such a bedraggled state, my dear?”
Bea couldn’t hold her tongue. “Ben is wet because he saved a little girl from drowning. He could use some care and attention. Perhaps assistance getting out of his wet things and some brandy.”
Bea caught her brother’s surprised look.
“I know what my husband needs.” Arabella sniffed. “Come along, Hadleigh. I shall ring for your valet to help you.”
As the pair headed out of the room, Bea called out, “Ben.”
