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Whit turned on his brother then. “What do you want from me?”
“You cocked it up,” Devil said.
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Whit resisted the urge to put a fist in his brother’s face for no good reason. “He threatened to kill her.”
“And you stole her business out from under her. You punished her for the sins of men—it’s familiar.” It was the plan Devil had implemented before he fell in love with Felicity. “Christ, the things we do to women.”
“It’s bollocks,” Whit said. “But how else do I keep her safe?”
“You don’t,” Devil said. “Keeping her safe requires locking her up. And if I know one thing—it’s that women don’t care for locks.”
“She’s brilliant. And she should be running the business. She should have been running it from the start, but her father wouldn’t give it to her.”
Devil nodded once. “Then let her husband give it to her.” The meaning slammed through him, even before his brother added, “Marry her.”
There was an irony in the way the words came, as though marriage were a neat solution that Whit simply hadn’t considered. As though he hadn’t been consumed by the idea of marrying her. As though he hadn’t imagined that marriage would keep her close.
But it wouldn’t keep her safe. “I seem to recall recommending such a thing to you not long ago, and you taking the suggestion . . . poorly.”
Devil leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest with the calm certainty of a man well loved. “Once I came around to it, it worked out very well.”
Whit shook his head. “Marriage isn’t an option.”
“Why? You might as well marry her if you’re going to follow her around like a guard dog for the rest of your days. You want the girl, Whit. I saw you go for her at the fight the other night. I saw the way she strung you tight.”
Of course he wanted her. Christ. Any man in his right mind would want her. She was brilliant and bold and strong and beautiful, and when she came, she moved against a man like sin.
But how could he bring her into this world? Put her in danger?
Devil raised a black brow. “Do you wish to know what I think?”
“No.”
“Does she want you?”
There are a thousand reasons why I wouldn’t marry you, and where you were raised doesn’t even rank.
He could still hear Hattie’s anger in the words.
“No.” Not anymore.
His brother’s brows shot together. “Why not? You’re rich as sin, strong as an ox, and nearly as handsome as I am.”
Whit raised a brow. “That’s all it takes?”
“Well, if she’s as brilliant as you say, she’s definitely too good for you, but that didn’t stop Felicity from marrying me.”
“Felicity made a mistake.”
“Don’t you ever tell her that,” Devil said, a stupid smile flashing before he grew serious once more. “Answer me. Does she want you?”
Silence.
“Ah. So that is why you bought the business—and the boats.”
“No!” Whit said, resisting the niggling truth in the back of his mind. “I bought them to keep her safe. Like we discussed.”
“At the risk of repeating myself: horseshit.” Devil smirked. “You bought the business—and the boats—for Henrietta Sedley. Like the time when we were boys when you tried to get that girl’s attention by buying the teacake she’d been eyeing all afternoon.” He paused, distracted by the memory. “What was her name?”
“Sally Sasser,” Whit said, immediately on the defensive. “And I gave that teacake to her!”
“But you bought it to get her attention, instead of just telling her you wanted to go for a walk, or whatever. Like an imbecile.”
“You nearly destroyed your wife’s reputation for sport,” Whit pointed out.
“Aha!” Devil grinned. “So you admit you want to marry the girl.”
I can’t love you.
She’d be another person to care for. Another to protect.
Another to lose.
“I admit no such thing,” Whit said, frustration pouring through him. “I bought them to get her far from the Bastards. I bought them because it would keep her safe.”
“Fine. Why have you kept them?”
“Because I’ve barely owned them a week!”
“Nah. Why have you kept them, bruv?”
Whit stopped.
For her.
Christ. Whit rubbed a hand over his face.
He’d kept them for her. Because she’d told him she wanted a shipping business. And he’d wanted to give her what she wanted.
Because hope was a fickle bitch.
“There it is.”
“Fuck off,” Whit said. “You were nearly dead in a ditch before you realized how much you cocked it up with Felicity.”
“And here you sit, hale and healthy. You should thank me for the wisdom I impart to you.” Devil smirked. “Now, tell me how you cocked it up, so I can impart additional wisdom as your older, wiser, brother.”
“We were born on the same day.”
“Yes, but it’s clear my soul is wiser.”
“Get stuffed.” Devil didn’t move, letting silence fall between them, knowing that silence was never silence if Whit was there. Silence was thought, miles a minute. Finally, he said, “She is too good for me.”
There was no denial in Devil’s eyes. No humor, either.
“I am nothing like what she deserves. Born the bastard son of the worst kind of man, raised in a bed-sit in Holborn, then raised again in the filth and fights of the gutter.” He paused. Then, “And Ewan. I can’t ask her to live in his shadow.”
One of Devil’s dark brows kicked up. “I’m not sure Henrietta Sedley is the kind of woman who lives in anyone’s shadow. I heard she nearly took out Michael Doolan with a blade stolen from you.”
“She was ready to slice him to bits.”
Devil smirked. “Good thing you came along.”
“Don’t twist it,” he said. “She’s not like us. She doesn’t fight dirty. She’s so clean, it’s impossible to imagine how I wouldn’t drag her into the gutter if I touched her.”
“So far above you, you can barely see her,” Devil said softly. The words full of memory.
“Yes,” Whit said, looking down at the empty street below.
“And what does the lady say?”
How could I forget this? Had she known what they’d had? How rare it had been? It didn’t matter, because he’d ruined it. He’d made her feel like a chore.
As though he wouldn’t spend the rest of his days chasing the pleasure he’d felt with her.
I can’t love you.
I never asked you for love.
“Have you told her?” Devil interrupted. “About the past?”
He met his brother’s eyes. “I’m not good enough for her.”
Devil shook his head. “You’re wrong, but I’ve never been able to convince you of it. Neither has Grace. But listen to me, bruv. You’re the best of the lot of us.”
