“You told me once that Matthew’s relationship with his siblings was nothing like our friendship. You said they terrorized him, especially Hawley.” Charlotte hated saying the words, despising what they meant, the pain they embodied. But if she was to save herself, she had to confront horrible truths, no matter how they could burn a person raw. “What if the viscount has coerced Matthew into participating in his crimes because it amuses Hawley? Wouldn’t that be just the kind of torment Hawley would enjoy inflicting, knowing that Matthew would loathe himself for any treachery, even if forced?”
Alexander moved his head roughly as if he could shake offCharlotte’s words. “No. Matthew wouldn’t. Even if he had, he would have confided in me.”
“Would he have had the strength to resist when he was younger and still living in the familial home? Can you say without a single, solitary misgiving that Matthew has told you his every secret?”
Alexander paused and then suddenly shifted his jaw to the left. Something was clearly bothering him.
“What is it?” Charlotte asked, feeling not triumph but a heavy morass deep in her soul.
Alexander ground out a sigh. “I must admit that I’ve felt he’s been keeping something from me for years. And then today—the way he disarmed those ruffians. He couldn’t fight like that when we were lads. But even if I have no way of explaining what we witnessed today, I still can’t believe that Matthew would ever hide a crime that Hawley committed—let alone participate himself.”
“But you can’t be sure, can you?” Charlotte asked. She knew the words cost her brother, but she was surprised how much they also weighed on her. She did not like to think ill of the man who just saved another human being… or the man who had recently developed a tendency to inspire delight inside her.
“No. Not entirely. Not after what happened today, especially if what you say about the necklace is true.” Alexander sighed as he stared into the deepening twilight. Then he turned sharply and fixed Charlotte with his greenish-gold gaze. “But treat Matthew with care, Charlotte. I do believe in my heart that he’s innocent, and I don’t want to cause him more unnecessary agony than he’s already endured.”
“I do not want to bring pain upon any of our heads.” But even as Charlotte spoke the words, she could not escape the premonition that, before her search into Matthew’s past was over, they would all bleed one way or another.
“Do—do you have feelings for Matthew?” Alexander asked, his voice hesitant at first and then stronger.
Charlotte drew back, stunned by the question. “I—I… Whyever would you say that?”
“I’ve observed you both in the Black Sheep, and I couldn’t miss the looks you gave him in the carriage before the attack. Then there was the way you watched him when he performed the surgery.” For once, Alexander was completely somber.
Charlotte glanced away, knowing her twin always saw too much of her soul. “Aren’t you supposed to be warning me away from any romance with your friends?”
“Not Matthew. Despite what happened today, I still would place my life in his hands without any hesitation. I even trust him with you. If we can find no other way to free you from Hawley, maybe you could marry him. He’d treat you well, Charlotte, and he’s already shown his willingness to defy Society’s wishes.”
To Charlotte’s horror, tears sprang into her eyes, and she had to battle against the hopelessness in her heart. “How could any of us be safe from Hawley if I threw him over to wed his brother? He would certainly retaliate. Don’t offer me hope of the impossible, Alexander.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lovey!?”
The screech, both an imperative and an inquiry, pulled Matthew’s attention to the rafters as he entered the Black Sheep. He discovered a rather puffed-up Pan glowering down at him.
“Lov—EEEEY!” Somehow, the parrot managed an even greater—and certainly more piercing—demand.
From the corner of his eye, Matthew noticed that every soul in the front room of the coffeehouse had swiveled in his and the bird’s direction. Embarrassment scorched Matthew.
“Banshee is happy. She went to a new home yesterday,” Matthew whispered as quietly and quickly as he could. He gave the wretched avian a beseeching look, begging for understanding even as he felt like a fool.
His pleas didn’t work.
Pan rose in a fury of feathers. He swooped thrice around the long, narrow room before he roosted firmly on Matthew’s head. Tiny pinpricks of talons dug into Matthew’s scalp as the bird leaned his long body ominously over Matthew’s forehead. One amber eye burned into Matthew’s left one.
“Lovey.” The parrot managed to make the word short and most definitely threatening.
“Perhaps I can bring Banshee for a visit,” Matthew hurriedly told the parrot, his desperation winning over his sense of absurdity.Pan might be an intelligent rascal, but Matthew had no idea if the canny creature could cull meaning from entire sentences, especially ones that weren’t literal observations.
Pan only gazed menacingly. Matthew swallowed as he scrambled for a way to extricate himself gracefully. Yet how could one be poised with a parrot perched on one’s head? It was, of course, precisely why the aggravating avian performed the trick so often.
“Tuesday,” Matthew blurted out, wondering how he had become a love emissary between a parrot and a monkey. “I’ll fetch Banshee, and you can spend time in each other’s company.”
Pan only inched his glittering eye closer to Matthew’s left one.
“Two featherbrains conversing. How utterly un-novel.” Disdain dripped from the familiar rich bass.
Blades of ice pierced Matthew’s spine as he turned to face his eldest brother. Even Pan lifted his head as if his latent wild side sensed a true predator.
