“Except Odessa,” Cal said, which caused his brother’s shoulders to rise defensively.
“Except Odessa,” Ben agreed stiffly. “But that is an entirely separate matter from the one at hand, and I find that your current method of defiance is in rather more immediate need of correction than our recollection of family lore.”
“Am I a sum to be tidied then?” Cal asked boredly. “A keystone for the vaulted arch of your petty ego? How delightful for me, to be schooled at the knee of the master.”
Ben looked up with dark, furious eyes, registering the mocking tone. “It’s not your time yet, either,” he hissed, making it very clear what he meant.
Cal laughed. “Thanks, Benjamin. I’m sure I will sleep very soundly tonight knowing that I shall be spared from that pale rider.”
“Stop playing the fool. Do you really think he’ll make an exception? Foryou? Father knows what you’ve been up to and trust me, he does not approve.”
“All I did was give her a tour of the grounds to assuage her fears. She thinks we have skeletons in our armoires, the poor darling. I’d say that history tends to be dryer than the blood it’s inked in, but unfortunately in our case—yours, specifically—that’s not exactly true, is it? You should be thanking me for warning her off. I’d be doing you a favor.”
“If you’re trying to warn her off, you’ve bungled it,” Ben said coldly. “Putting her in the unicorn room of all places. That’s a fine joke, given what she really is—”
“That was Odessa’s doing,” Cal cut in. “You know how she loves her little jokes.”
“Does she control your eyes, as well?”
Cal gave Ben a hard look, bold in its assessment. Ben stepped closer, fists bunched at the sides of his pressed trousers. He was still huffing and puffing from his entrance, like an overexerted wolf, making his face ruddy beneath his beard. That flush intermingled with the rosacea in his cheeks and around his nose.
He looks like Father, Cal realized.They could be brothers now.
“Don’t give me that blank stare.” Ben even sounded like Father, although there was a grasping quality to his authority that their Father never had. “I’ve seen how you look at her.”
“She’s comely,” Cal allowed.
“She’smine.”
“Is she.” He raised his eyes insouciantly. “Then you know what she tastes like.”
“You’ve been warned. The next warning will be a lesson. You’re a man this time,” he said, his voice rising with triumph,when Cal turned away. “Not some lovelornboy. There’s no excuse for weakness. This time, you’ll be culling your own herd.”
“You should get ready for dinner.” Cal closed the window and drew the curtains, blocking out what remained of the waning natural light. “You look like you’ve been dragged in by the ravens. Whatever will our guest think?”
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. Father takes the rules very seriously. As do I.” Ben picked up the sparrow again, testing its weight. “I’ll take care of her, if you won’t. Just like before. I suggest you remember that. Perhaps it will help you keep her—and yourself—in check.”
Remembering how he’d thrown his drinking glass, Cal slipped into a ready awareness. “Are we playing chess now?” He smiled humorlessly. “Then I suggestyouremember, Ben, that it’s always the king who has most to lose.”
Ben gave the dome a careless toss in his palm before righting it, but this time it toppled over on its side, rolling back until it hit the wall. Sneering, Ben turned on his heel and headed for the door again, but not before looking back over his shoulder. “She will not be yours.”
The door closed behind him but his words lingered, as he’d intended.
Days of work had been undone with the discovery of that necklace. In attempting to show her that they had nothing to hide, he had only roused her suspicions further. She had crossed the threshold of this house fancying it a place of whimsy and dark dreams; now it was the monster that had swallowed her sister. He could hardly claim that Noelle had simply run away when there were tacit signs of a struggle. Of violence.
Nadine was attracted to him only because he had charmed her while holding the very worst parts of himself back. If heshowed her what he was capable of—what would be expected of her to truly be brought within the fold—would she still press so closely to his side?
Maybe he could scare her away, after all. All it would require was a taste of the truth.
Cal walked to his desk, pulling free a sheet of stationery from a varnished set of drawers. As he wrote what he needed to write, he found himself recalling with a conflicted but visceral clarity what she tasted like, and how she had felt—one final push from surrender.
The tapestry door was still locked from her side so he exited his room and went to hers from the hall, giving the knob a brief twist. When no yelp of outrage immediately followed, Cal pushed the door the rest of the way open and went in.
Nadine wasn’t here, but she had clearly been busy. The book he had noticed earlier was now closed and righted with one of Helena’s pamphlets sticking out from between its pages. She had made a clumsy attempt at tidying the bed, which made him remember her awkwardness in front of the servants at breakfast. She was a woman used to cleaning up after herself to fit into the spaces provided to her.
Only one side of the bed had looked slept in. The other side was completely untouched. Even in her own bed, she made herself small, refusing to take up more than she needed. Something about that pecked at the shriveled remnants of his conscience.
She must be lonely.
