Willing the hope rising in her to retreat sensibly, she took the banknote and gasped at the amount.
Miss Forthright’s Home for Female Companions would be more than a reality. Gratitude overwhelming, she nodded to her brother and said, “I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s not a loan. It’s yours.” He leaned back in his chair, looking smug. “You’ll be quite the heiress, now.”
“Mine? No, Hamish—”
“It’s yours,” he said again. “Yours by right.”
Camille shook her head. “Not even a proper housekeeper or lady’s companion earns this salary or allowance, not in ten years of service.”
“Not for services rendered.” There was a glint in his eyes. His smile turned feral. “It’s every last pence our bastard father had in the bank.” He sneered at the note in her hands as if their father’s ghost were attached to it. “I’ve no need for such a modest amount. Do with it what you will before I toss it in the bin.”
‘Modest amount’ was a lie. There was no doubt Hamish had money enough to support a small country, but his generosity was for more than revenge. He offered her back her pride, even when she’d come here to offer it up as penance.
Emotion clogged her throat. A brother, family. She’d gone her whole life without one, and now when one was offered up to her, open-handed and warm hearted, she found she had no grand speeches or articulate words to express herself with.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “I’m proud to call you my brother.”
He looked away and cleared his throat. “No need for that. I’m being entirely selfish.” He grinned at her, his eyes shining. “I’ve always wanted a sibling to boss around.”
“Haven’t you heard siblings are nothing but trouble?”
“Ah, yes, well, Charlotte is an exceptional case as a duke’s sister. I won’t have near the trouble with you.”
She laughed, the sound full of new life, a newher. “You sound suspiciously confident. Care to share how you’ll make me toe the line?”
“Easy,” he said.
The brotherly mischief and shared camaraderie on his face made Camille want to throw her arms around him in a display of affection that would leave them both embarrassed. “Yes?”
“I’ll leave the line keeping to Renard.”
They both laughed, knowing there was no hope of keeping her from anything at all.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Renard ascended thestairs to the second-story sitting room, managing to knock on the door and enter at his sister’s voice without flinching.
The room was warm with a roaring fire in the hearth, a fire Renard wouldn’t look too long at, else he see his future in the burning flames.
Charlotte sat reading in the chair by the window, a new set of spectacles showing off the expressiveness of her eyes. Upon looking up and seeing him in the doorway, she smiled.
“Renard! What a pleasant surprise. I thought I heard a carriage.” She glanced into the hall behind him. “Is Camille with you?”
“She’s downstairs with Hamish.”
Charlotte scrunched her face. “I hope he doesn’t say anything too disagreeable. I’m rather fond of the busts in that room.”
Renard wouldn’t put it past his duchess to throw anything not bolted down when enraged. “What makes you think the disagreeable one would be him?”
“Because women are seldom wrong.”
Despite the damning reason for his visit, Renard smirked. “Please don’t tell her that. I never win any arguments as it is.”
Her grin brightened her entire face. “I make no promises, brother.”
It was that grin that tore at him—how it reached ear to ear and how her eyes danced with the joy of an easy gesture when she’d had no reason to smile for years. She sat there and smiled at him, not knowing what he’d taken from her, not understanding he was the reason her smiles had been so few and far between.
