“Then I will help you if that is what you wish,” he said softly. “But I would not promise to try to convince you that you are better off here. Where you will have better care. The headmistress has far too many duties to shirk them for only one of her charges.”
Jaclyn had no chance to respond to his statement, though she softened a little at his ready reply. A quick knock echoed through the room and moments later a maid entered to announce, “A Lord Oakley has arrived, my lord.” She held the Marquess of Easton’s gaze. “He wishes to see his sister.”
She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. She had hoped that Barrett would not come all the way to Easton Abbey, but clearly that prayer had not been answered. She could only hope this one would be though. Because she would need all the help she could get to make it through the meeting with her brother.
Kingston swore under his breath. He had hoped that Oakley would have the good sense to stay away from Easton Abbey, but he hadn’t. Though to be fair he wasn’t surprised. Not in the least. The bastard had been a thorn in his side since that night he had first met Jaclyn. That fated meeting that led to a duel he would not soon forget. He glared at Oakley as he was led into the room by the butler. Once Easton had given the maid permission to see the earl inside, the butler had been discharged to see it done. Easton had also ordered a room be prepared for Oakley as well. He would insist on staying to chaperone his sister and it was far better to be prepared for that eventuality.
“I have come to escort my sister home,” Oakley informed them.
A small gasp escaped from Jaclyn as she stared at her brother in horror. “I am not going anywhere,” she told him defiantly. “Once I am well enough, I am returning to school.”
“No,” he told her. “You are not.” He did not even bother to spare his sister a glance. He kept his attention on Kingston as he made his proclamation. “My father has sent me to ensure her safe return to the family home.”
Kingston wanted to strangle him. He barely kept his temper in check as he remained silent. If he was the one that protested this arrangement, then Oakley would only dig in deeper and become inherently more stubborn in his insistence. Luckily for him, Lady Eston took up the mantle for her friend.
“I am afraid I must insist she remains,” Lady Easton said in a serene tone. “She has been too ill to even return to Havenwood. As you can see, she has not regained her coloring.” Lady Easton motioned toward Jaclyn. “She has barely been able to join us for tea.” She lifted her hand and rang a nearby bell. “In fact, I was just going to suggest she return to her bedchamber to rest.”
“Charlotte…” Jaclyn frowned. “I…”
“Do not protest, dear,” Lady Easton told her. “We only want what is best for you.” She held Jaclyn’s gaze, and something seemed to pass between them. Jaclyn nodded at her as if accepting whatever Charlotte was conveying to her.
It amused Kingston a little. His friendship with Easton and Foxmoore was much the same. They could have a conversation without uttering a word when needed. Though sometimes those words needed to be said, and he had a few choice ones for Jaclyn’s brother.
“I insist,” Oakley began. “That she leaves with me now.”
“I am going upstairs to rest,” Jaclyn said. Slowly she came to her feet. She wobbled a little bit, and Lady Foxmoore was quickly at her side to keep her steady.
“I will help you,” Lady Foxmoore said.
“Thank you, Georgina,” Jaclyn said. “I appreciate your kindness.” She turned toward her brother. “Please understand, Barrett. I am too tired to argue now. We will discuss father’s plans later when I am less weary.”
With that Lady Foxmoore helped her out of the sitting room, their teacups abandoned on a nearby table. Though Kingston had not seen them take a sip from their cup since he had entered the room. He worried about Jaclyn and he would check in on her later. For now, he had another quarry to see to. “Oakley,” he greeted. “As you can see your sister has not been well.”
“I was informed of her accident,” he said sharply. “It is why father sent me to retrieve her. He is most concerned.”
Kingston nearly snorted. As if their father truly cared about either of his children. As far as he was aware he had sent Jaclyn to Havenwood and forgotten about her, and as to Oakley—the earl ran wild, and nothing stood in his way. He did as he pleased and damn the consequences. Well Kingston would ensure he understood that some things could not be trampled on, and Jaclyn was one of them.
Kingston straightened in his chair, meeting Oakley's eyes with a level of coldness that had served him well in far more dangerous confrontations. He had been patient for far too long. Oakley might be Jaclyn’s brother, but that did not make him immune to Kingston’s ire. "You speak of concern for your sister," Kingston began, his voice calm but edged with a quiet fury, "but your actions tell another tale. If you were truly concerned, you would have considered what your actions did to her reputation. You would have ensured she was safe long before any of this happened and shown more concern about her condition than your orders to return her home."
Oakley’s lips twitched in irritation, but he held his ground, refusing to back down. "You are not her guardian, Amberwood. And you are certainly not in a position to lecture me on what is best for my sister."
"Perhaps not," Kingston replied, his tone growing sharper, "but I do believe I’ve had a far greater hand in her well-being than you ever have. I am the one that saved her from drowning. You may have been sent by your father, but you do not truly care what befalls your sister. I will gladly see you at dawn before I allow you to endanger her health because you are far more concerned about your own pride."
“If you wish to be shot again.” There was a long pause as Oakley regarded him, his gaze dark and calculating. “I will happily put another slug in you.” He glared at Kingston. "You speak as if you know her better than I do," Oakley said, his words slow and deliberate. "But you do not, Amberwood. And you do not know me."
"Keep telling yourself that," Kingston replied. "Either way I know what is right. And right now, the right thing is for your sister to remain here, where she is safe, and where her condition can improve."
Oakley’s face reddened with anger. "You are far too bold, Your Grace. You dare to tell me what is right for my own family? If you think for one moment I will allow you to dictate my sister’s future, you are sorely mistaken."
Kingston stood, his height and presence giving him an undeniable authority. "I do not intend to dictate her future," he said, his voice now a controlled rumble. "But I will not allow her to be rushed away by a brother who thinks he has the right to command her life. Not when she is vulnerable, not when she still needs time to heal."
Oakley took a step forward, his temper flaring. "You think she belongs to you? You think that because you rescued her, you have some claim over her?" His voice had risen, his words laced with bitterness. “Because if you do, let me assure you that you’re wrong in that assumption.”
Kingston’s response was firm, resolute. "I don’t think she belongs to me, Oakley. But I will not allow her to be treated as though she is a pawn in your game of power. Your father may have sent you here, but I suggest you take a step back and realize that your sister’s well-being comes first."
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the tension of unspoken truths. Oakley’s face flushed with frustration, his pride bruised by Kingston’s unwavering stance. "You have no right to tell me how to care for my sister," Oakley said, his voice low and cold.
"I have every right, because I care for her, and that is more than you have shown her since you arrived," Kingston shot back, his eyes narrowing. "If you were truly concerned about her, you would realize that she needs time to heal."
