Page 65 of The Dangerous Lord

The brother lied as badly as his sister. Ian stared down at the beardless lad whose defense of his family was so transparent. “You know it isn’t right to tell tales, James. I want the truth—did you leave the academy because your sister needs money?”

James shot his sister a helpless glance. “Lissy⁠—”

“It’s all right, James.” The lamplight caught Felicity’s shuttered expression. “Really, Lord St. Clair, there’s no need to badger the poor boy. If you want to know something, ask me.”

“All right. Do you need money?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out the truth anyway.”

She glanced out the window, her fingers clutching her reticule as if to protect it from a thief. “We don’t need ... that is ... at the moment we’re short of funds, because we’re waiting for Papa’s estate to be settled. But as soon as the money comes to us⁠—”

“Settled? But he’s been dead over a year.”

“Yes, it’s some legal mess. The lawyers will sort it out. In the meantime, my columns support us.”

He snorted. As if that could support a household as large as theirs. “Perhaps you need someone to intervene on your behalf and hasten the process. I could speak to your father’s trustee⁠—”

“No! You’ve no right to interfere. We’re fine, I assure you.”

“But Lissy—” James began.

“We’re fine,” she gritted out, casting her brother a warning glance. “I’m sure the money will come through any day, and James will be back at Islington Academy.”

“Very well. Do as you see fit.” He dropped the subject. No point in annoying her further when a few words with Mrs. Box would tell him what he needed to know.

Though the boys seemed to relax, Felicity began to fidget. She fiddled with the clasp to her reticule. She fussed with Georgie’s clothing, plucking a leaf from his cap and finger-combing his hair until he grumbled. The one thing she didn’t do was look at Ian. There was more to this than she’d admitted. He intended to get to the bottom of it tonight, but how could he wrangle an invitation inside when she was so uneasy?

Minutes later, he got his answer when something dropped onto his legs. He looked down to find William fallen over in sleep, his head nestled comfortably in Ian’s lap. The poor lad. It must be nearly his bedtime. An idea struck Ian suddenly.

“Is William asleep?” Felicity asked, leaning forward. “Do you wish me to take him from you?”

“No, he’s fine where he is.” Ian kept his voice low, not wanting to awaken his little ticket into the Taylor house. “I suppose it was a long and tiring day for him.”

“I told you it would be.”

“You also told me it would be boring, and it was anything but that.”

A thin blade of a smile cracked her reserve. “I doubt anyone could find The Separate Room boring. Appalling perhaps, but not boring.”

“What’s ‘appalling’ mean?” Georgie asked.

“It means that all the blood horrified your sister,” Ian answered before she could.

“It wasn’t real blood, Lissy.” Georgie patted his sister’s knee reassuringly. “’Twere only wax. You mustn’t be frightened by it.”

He couldn’t help it—he laughed, though softly to keep from awakening William. Soon she joined him. The sound of her muted chuckles warmed him clear to the heart, and made him yearn to reestablish their earlier closeness.

When the laughter died off, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the exhibit. Even if I didn’t agree with your reasons for refusing to take them in The Separate Room, I shouldn’t have pressed you.”

She acknowledged his apology with a wry smile. “It’s all right. You couldn’t have known what it would be like.” She looked down at Georgie. “And I dare say this little rascal would have found some way in there anyway, permission or no.”

“Probably,” Ian said, feeling better about the afternoon.

The companionable silence that ensued was strangely soothing. Who would have thought that rumbling along in a carriage with three little hellions, a scholar-in-the-making, and their prim sister could be so pleasant? He hadn’t been around children in years, not since his youth when he’d spent time with his young cousins. To his surprise, he realized he missed it.

The carriage shuddered to a halt. He glanced out to see bright lamps illuminating the Gothic entrance to Taylor Hall. The carriage door opened and the boys climbed out, uncharacteristically drooping. With the help of the coachman, Felicity disembarked, then turned to reach for William. Ian stayed her with his hand. “I’ll carry him in.”

“I hate to inconvenience you,” she protested. “The nursery’s two flights up.”

“I don’t mind, and besides, you have to look after the others.”