One peek. He would see the maid, then he would try … again … to go to sleep.
Quietly, so as not to scare the poor girl, he eased his door open a crack. Nothing. Widening the gap, he looked down the hall.
Nick stood in front of Alexandra’s door. Jaffa sat in a chair beside it. His eyes met Darcy’s. He nodded once, then looked up at Nick.
A stuffed canvas bag was slung over Nick’s shoulder; his boots dangled from his hand. Was he trying to escape? Darcy did not want to believe it. Not after all his uncle had done to secure his brother’s freedom. “Nicholas?”
His brother’s shoulders deflated as he turned to face Darcy. His cheeks were bunched up like a child caught doing something for which he knew he would be punished. “I can’t stay.”
“You cannot leave.” Darcy respondedlouder than he should have. Looking up and down the hallway, he waved for Nick to come inside his room.
The embers still glowed in the fireplace, and Darcy coaxed them to life with the poker, adding more wood from the rack beside the hearth.Poke-poke. Why would Nick escape like a thief in the night?Jab-jab.Without so much as a farewell, nice to meet you?Stab-stab.Was he so heartless to leave so soon after finding his own family? How could he turn his back this quickly?
Nick sat in one of the chairs placed around the fire, his bag on the carpet at his feet. At least now, at this moment, he was here.
Darcy took a deep breath, cooling his blood and calming his thoughts. Had he learned nothing from his failed courtship? His assumptions had led him to all the wrong conclusions when one open conversation would have cleared the misunderstanding between him and Elizabeth. He could have made a more favorable impression had he not haughtily taken for granted that she would feel the honor of his attentions. What a fool he had been.
He would not be a fool now, making assumptions—none of which were flattering to his brother. Darcy turned to Nick. “Why can you not stay?”
Shoving his hands through his hair, Nick dropped his elbows to his knees. “I can’t change what I’ve done; who I am—”
Darcy spun around to face him. “You are a Darcy.”
A gasp that sounded painful, like it was wrenchedfrom Nick’s chest, soothed Darcy’s ire. “In face and form, yes, but ye know I could never belong.”
Darcy shook his head. “It does not need to remain thus.” He motioned toward the hall where his uncle and cousin slept. “We are your family.” As he spoke the words, Darcy wondered how Nick had escaped without waking Richard. With Elizabeth’s family soon to arrive and in need of a room, Richard and Nick had shared a room, as had Alex and Elizabeth.
Nick winced. “I put a pinch of da Silva’s sleeping powder in Richard’s drink, if that’s what ye’re wondering. Alex told me ye’re familiar with the stuff.” He paused, took a deep breath. “I ought to have put a pinch in yer drink, too.”
“I am glad you refrained. Otherwise I would not have had the chance to convince you to stay.”
“I see how ye are. How Lord Matlock and Richard run to yer aid as fast as Alex can fling a knife.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “But I can never be a Darcy. Not truly.”
Darcy put the poker down and sat. He imagined riding over the property with Nick, slowly introducing him to the rest of their family as his long-lost twin. He would save Aunt Catherine for last. They would get along like oil and water. There was nothing in the moment to smile about, but Darcy felt his lips quirk at the images in his head—the images of him and his brother.
“I shall show you.” Darcy realized,as his heart squeezed and his throat swelled, just how much he wanted his newfound brother to stay in his life. He would even endure Alex if it meant Nick would stay. Darcy swallowed hard, adding, “Please, stay.”
“And repay yer uncle’s kindness by endangering ye?” Nicholas squeezed his hands against his temples. Looking up, he met Darcy’s gaze. “What about Georgie? She came to London to help find ye, ye know?”
Darcy leaned forward in his chair. “You met Georgie?” He had thought she was safe with Mrs. Annesley at Pemberley, far away from this mess.
“She’s safe,” Nick assured him, as though he sensed what Darcy needed most to hear. “I met her at Matlock House. She and her companion came when they heard ye’d disappeared.”
While it pleased Darcy’s heart that his little sister had been concerned enough about his welfare to make the three-day journey to London, he wished she had stayed away. Until he knew how best to proceed.
Nick leaned back in his chair, looking wistfully into the fire. “She’s a fine young lady. I’d never forgive meself if her reputation suffered because of me. I’m a black mark on yer family. The farther away I go, the better.”
Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but Nick continued, “Ye know it’s true, Darcy. Don’t deny it.”
“You are as bossy as Richard.”
“He’s a good man. Wise beyond his years.”
Scowling at his brother as he would have had it been Richard sitting across from him, Darcy felt the connection like a kick to the gut—merciless and undeniable. Nick fit. He and Darcy were too similar. If Darcy really wanted him to stay, he would have to reason with him as if he were reasoning with himself. “If Richard were here, he would tell you to stay. Uncle Matlock stretched his neck out for you. If you leave, he will have no choice but to hunt you down lest he be accused of enabling your escape.”
Nick laughed mirthlessly. “And allow Connell to continue threatening ye?”
“We do not know if he is even alive.”
