“I want to meet her,”Aurora said dully. She was lying on the chaise in the drawing room where Brandon had taken her, pressing a cool compress to her forehead.
“Tomorrow is soon enough.”
“No.” She sat up, found the movement too much for her, and weakly lay back down. “Please, let me meet her tonight.” She thought about her request for a moment. “Or is it that she wants nothing to do with me? Have you turned her against me, Bran?” Without waiting for his reply, she went on. “How did she come to be here?”
“That is for her to tell you—on the morrow.” He stepped away from the chaise. “I will have one of the servants take you to your chamber. You are understandably overwrought. I bid you good night.” Brandon left the room and went straight for the nursery. Clara, exhausted from a recent bout of crying, was asleep in her bed. Shannon sat in a rocker she had moved close to the bed and was making a sketch in the allybet book.
She put the book aside when Brandon entered. “I can see in your face that it did not go well,” she said.
Brandon briefly described his meeting with Aurora, their dinner, and its aftermath. “I want you to tell her that you came here to find her, that you always knew of her existence,” he said. “You can say that you learned of the Marchands from your father and—” He stopped because Shannon was shaking her head and looking at him sadly.
“No, Brandon. Even if it were possible that she would never learn the truth, I could not do it. You have taught me not to be afraid, and I am not. Do not be afraid for me. I will tell my sister the truth—all but the fact that we met at Glen Eden and we love each other now. In spite of what you say she is, I think that would hurt her deeply. It would seem that Parker’s rejection has already crushed her. I would not add another burden.”
“And the things your stepfather did to you?” he asked, thinking Shannon was being too considerate of Aurora’s feelings. “You will tell her that also?”
“No,” she admitted. “I cannot speak of him, not in that way. I will say what you and the earl have oft wanted to make me believe: that it was an accident.”
Brandon released a breath he had not realized he was holding, relieved by her decision to keep some things to herself. “Good. I cannot say what Aurora would do if she knew everything.”
Shannon caught her lower lip in her teeth. “While she remains at the folly…I cannot…” She stared at him, pleading for his understanding.
“I know. I would not ask it of you.” He took her by her beautifully shaped hands and pulled her to her feet, enclosing her in an embrace that was too brief and too desperate. “We’ll go on as we did before we understood the truth of our feelings.” He set her away and smiled faintly. “I shall be Mr. Fleming, and you shall be Clara’s governess.”
“It’s absurd, Brandon!”Aurora said, her glance darting between her husband and Shannon. “She cannot remain as Clara’s governess! She is my sister! Oh, it was all very well before you knew the truth, but surely you cannot expect me to countenance my own sister as aservant.”
“I am not made to feel a servant, Aurora,” Shannon put in. She was emotionally exhausted from her interview with her sister and wished that she might reach out to Brandon and allow herself the comfort of his embrace. Aurora’s questions had seemed as if they would go on forever. She wanted to know everything about their mother and about the sort of person Thomas Stewart had been. She expressed horror, tears glistening in her eyes, when Shannon had told of the accident, the trial, and her voyage to the colonies. Aurora probed for details that Shannon would have rather left unsaid, but she did it in such a way that Shannon found herself answering helplessly, as if she had no control over her tongue. Now that it was over, Shannon felt bruised and weary, desiring nothing more than to retire to her room and stay there an age.
“Of course you’re not,” Aurora replied, patting Shannon’s hand. “But nevertheless, that is what you are, or what you have been. It is simply not to be borne.”
“But what would I do?” asked Shannon. “I like being with Clara.”
Brandon raised his hand to halt the discussion. “We will leave it to Miss Kilmartin, Aurora. It is her choice.”
“All right, but really, Brandon, you sound too silly calling her Miss Kilmartin in that stiff voice of yours. You must call her Shannon.” She turned to her sister. “Mustn’t he?”
“That would be fine,” Shannon answered, keeping her face averted from Brandon.
“Then it’s settled.” Aurora studied Shannon’s face closely before she turned to her husband. “Bran, how could you have ever mistaken her for me? The similarities are striking, but surely you can see the differences?”
Indeed he could, he thought, but like Paul Marchand, he believed they were mostly differences of the heart. Aurora, however, was speaking of the subtle physical differences that were noticeable when the sisters were together. Shannon stood perhaps a half-inch taller than Aurora; her eyes were a shade darker. The bridge of Aurora’s pared nose was sharper, the thrust of her chin more defined. Shannon’s complexion was not as fair as her sister’s, but that was a result of her penchant for being out of doors without any head covering. Her cheeks held color that could not be matched by any artifice, and beneath the prim neckline of her blue linen gown, Brandon knew precisely how milk-white her skin really was.
“I can see them now” was all Brandon would comment on Aurora’s observation.
“Well, I am glad for that. It would not serve for you to confuse us now.”
“No. That would not do at all.”
Shannon heard the ironic inflection in Brandon’s tone and sought to make her escape before Aurora understood its meaning. She stood, excusing herself with the pretext that she had promised Clara they would visit Rainbow in the stables.
When Shannon was gone, Aurora poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it thoughtfully. “She’s quite conscientious, isn’t she?”
“Yes, I believe she cares for Clara.”
“You think I don’t?”
Brandon sighed, wishing he had not given his wife that opening. “In your own way, Rory, I think you wish the best for our daughter.”
“I certainly do,” she said. “Have you given any thought as to how the divorce will affect her in the years to come? She will be touched by the scandal of it.”
