Eliza had looked so small and alone standing in that rotunda, and though she was surrounded by houses full of people, she’d seemed completely isolated.
Before stepping forward, he’d watched her a moment, observing that stiff set of her shoulders and the way her hands had been clenched in front of her as if she were bracing for another blow. He understood that feeling. For all he was constantly surrounded by people, sometimes he felt alone in the world.
Was that what had drawn him to her?
What about her uncle? Had he been good to the broken girl who had come to live with him?
“I couldn’t get to them.”
He could still hear the ragged way she’d said it, could see in his mind the way her eyes had gone somewhere far away. He knew a thing or two about lasting memories, and thatone, in which she couldn’t get to her parents and brother, would be Eliza Downing’s. They’d likely died in their beds, or close to them, and she hadn’t been there to save them.
Mungo didn’t know how she’d survived what happened to her. He’d walked away from his family, but he’d left them alive. He had left by choice, in a fury. Those she loved had been taken from her.
“Christ, what a mess.”
His breath hung in front of him on a sigh. Mungo was rarely tired, a man who needed little sleep and could go long hours without complaint, but right then, his body felt weak with exhaustion. His mind wouldn’t still, whirling between Fenella, Eliza, and Calder.
His focus had to be Fenella and her maid and nothing else now. Not the sweet-faced governess with the soft, lush lips. Once his niece was back, he’d think about Eliza and how to exist with her living in the same house as him. How to keep from dragging her close every time they were alone in a room.
The door opened, and he watched everyone appear, wrapped for the conditions in layers of clothing, all talking over top of one another, as was their wont. The warm glow from inside spilled briefly over the step, painting them in soft gold before the door thudded shut behind them and they were returned to the harsh, gray light.
Gray was first, head down, face calm. He had Ellen’s hand tucked into his arm, and she was saying something to him. Bram followed, also looking calm, his gaze cutting over the street, checking shadows, doorways, and potential threats where they rarely were in Crabbett Close.
Alex came next, scarf trailing, nearly being yanked back inside when Leo stepped on it. Alex never went anywhere without some form of chaos clinging to him.
Mungo’s brother came next.
Shoulders hunched, face lined, Calder was an anguished man, and no matter what Mungo felt about him, he must remember that. Mungo’s insides burned with rage over who had taken Fenella, but he was not her father.
Eliza was last, shoulders back, primly buttoned into her jacket. No one looking at that woman would see the hell she’d endured. She’d learned to hide behind a facade, like he had.
Her gaze slid past him, clearly avoiding his eyes.
“We cannot all fit inside,” Bram said, reaching the carriage. “Not comfortably, at least. And I have no wish to have any of you on my lap.”
“We’re no longer children, Uncle Bram,” Ellen said, although she was pushing Alex back by his shoulder as he tried to pass her and get into the carriage.
“I will, of course, sit beside Mr. Mungo and Benjamin, as I am an employee, and there is plenty of room,” Eliza said, still not meeting his eyes, her voice prim.
“Absolutely not,” Calder snapped before Mungo could speak. “I will sit beside my brother.”
“I can sit up there,” Alex said quickly. “I love annoying Mungo. It will be a treat that he has nowhere to run to.”
“Idiot,” Mungo muttered.
Benjamin laughed under his breath.
“There, you see, he loves me,” Alex said cheerfully.
“No,” Calder countered again flatly. “I will sit up there, as I have things I wish to discuss with Mungo.”
Which was the last thing Mungo wanted to hear, but he didn’t allow that thought to show on his face.
“One of you bleeding get up here before we all freeze to death,” he growled, the reins cutting into his fingers as he tightened his grip. The horses tossed their heads as if echoing his impatience.
“It seems you’ve been out of Scotland too long, brother,”Calder said, looking up at him with a tight smile, “if a balmy night such as this is too cold for you.”
“It is not balmy,” Alex protested. “My extremities are suffering.”
