Byron laughed, but there was an edge to it. “I am not aware of such a sisterly duty. But I do know that a sister is meant to be supportive, is meant to love her younger siblings instead ofdisparaging them. A good sister would not deride her brother’s choice of wife or profession. And she certainly would not wish injury upon her brother or the woman he loves.”
“I—”
Byron clenched his fists. “Would you really rather I went back to forgetting? Never knowing one day from the next? Not even remembering to write you or mother?” He gestured behind him to Mira. “I would not be here if it were not for Miss Samira Blayse. I would not have recovered my memories, save for her patience.”
Mary shook her head. “I’m grateful that you’ve recovered. But can’t you see that this woman is actively ruining your position in society? The way you run around together is disgraceful, disregarding all sense of propriety.”
“As if you didn’t act the same when you were courting,” Byron said. “I may have been six at the time, but I had eyes.”
“We were engaged,” Mary said, voice tight. “It was an entirely different situation.”
“For heavens sakes! Is that what this is about?” Byron said, turning to Mira. “Will you marry me?”
Mira blinked. He wasn’t serious, was he?
Goodness, he was.
“Y-yes. Of course, I will.” Her emotions were in all sorts of disarray. Shock, frustration, excitement, anger, and love all muddled together.
His shoulders relaxed by a fraction and he took her arm. He turned them both towards his sister in a united front. “There. We’re engaged.”
“You can’t—” Mary spluttered.
“We just did. I am sick and tired of playing society’s games. Now will you leave us alone?”
Mary stood taller. “You are being ridiculous. Be honest with yourself, Ambrose. Do you love her or are you merely infatuatedwith the first woman you could remember after your accident?” Mary threw her hand out. “Have you considered her character at all? What sort of respectable woman lowers herself to take on a secretarial job and willingly chooses to engage in detective work? From my first impression of her I—”
“I know well enough what your impression of me is.” Mira stepped forward, heat rising within her. “I have heard every insult, every snide comment of derision, and I have tried to keep the peace, because believe it or not, I love Byron and would never want him to lose his family in loving me.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “I know what it is like not to have a family. I’ve longed to have a mother, to have a sister, and I thought we might have had that relationship, but clearly that was never meant to be.” She wiped the hot tears from her face, shaking her head. “From the moment I met you, I found you to be judgmental, disagreeable, and myopic. You are so focused on how others perceive you, that I can’t imagine you even know who you are.”
“How dare—”
“How dare I stand up for myself? It is a wonder, isn’t it?” Mira’s heart raced. “I’ll admit that we haven’t taken the most pains to be proper and perhaps that is a failing. But I find your hypocrisy to be a worse one. I understand that you have had a terrible time at love, and I expect that you still feel the pain of losing it. So how can you possibly pass the same judgement that hurt you so terribly onto your brother?”
“Ambrose—”
“His name is Byron,” Mira said. “It is his first name. The name given to him by his mother. It’s the one he prefers to use, and you refuse to use it even in private. Do you know your brother at all? Or are you too busy judging him? Judging him because you are afraid and he is not.”
“Of course, I know him!” Mary yelled, turning to face her brother again. “I can’t allow you to give away your entirebirthright based on what you think is love.”
“Think?” Byron said. Mira had never heard him say something with such vitriol. “I don’t think you know what love is, Mary. If you did, you wouldn’t have let it walk out the door twenty years ago. You would have fought for it. Who cares if he didn’t have a title? You could have convinced father.”
“No.” Mary took a few shuddering breaths, her eyes filling with tears, as she stepped away from them. “No, I couldn’t.” She ran past them, rushing headlong into Mrs. Sherard, who stood in the doorway. Mary pushed past her mother, escaping from the tension in the drawing room.
Mira suddenly felt quite dizzy. Byron stood beside her, shocked. Mrs. Sherard considered them a moment.
“That was unfair to your sister,” she said after a short silence.
“Unfair to her?” Byron said, letting out a laugh. “She has been—”
“I know very well what she has been,” Mrs. Sherard said. “But relationships go two ways,” she paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him. “Byron.”
Byron’s mouth gaped. Mrs. Sherard cleared her throat. “I had better find Mary and take her home before she runs into the Treadways.”
“They’re here?” Byron frowned.
“Unfortunately.” Mrs. Sherard sighed. “I ran into his wife in the hall.”
Mira grimaced. “It’s too late, I’m afraid. Mr. Treadway was leaving just as I entered the drawing room.”
