There wasn’t any judgment in her words, but Aaron found that the horrible acceptance was much, much worse.
“Clio,” he said, and the words came out like a plea, “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
“I know,” she said simply. “I mean, I knownow. At first, poor Great Aunt Mathilde had to listen to alotof insults with your name tacked on the end. But eventually I realized that you weren’t trying to be cruel or dismissive. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt me,” she added with a pointed look.
“I was trying to protect you,” he explained, his tone no less desperate.
“I know,” she said.
“After the war, I was in no state…”
“I know.”
“I was so afraid that I would hurt you.” He sounded like he was begging now, though he couldn’t say what he was begging for. Her expression said that she was already offering forgiveness, no matter that he likely didn’t deserve it.
She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Aaron,” she said, “Iknow. I know all of it. But it hurt anyway.”
His eyes fell shut.
“God, Clio,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
He felt the shifting of the settee as she moved closer to him, and then his teacup was removed from his hands. He let out a sigh of something like relief when his sister wrapped her arms around him.
“I know,” she said. “I’m not angry. I love you, Aaron.”
He laid his cheek against the top of her head, something he hadn’t done since she was a little girl who would sneak into his room when she’d had a nightmare and needed her big brother to fight away the ghosts.
“I love you, too,” he told her.
“I actually know that, too,” she said, the pert little sister back to the fore, and it was such a relief to hear her tease him that Aaron could have wept.
“Brat,” he said, shoving gently at her arm—though not so much that she couldn’t continue embracing him.
“You deserve it,” she declared, pinching him mercilessly on the arm. Her tone grew more measured. “I’m pleased that we had this talk, though. I think it was far overdue.”
“It was,” he agreed.
“But—” She pulled back so she could give him another stern look. “—you must know that the reason I was brave enough to bring it up was because of Phoebe.”
Aaron would not have said that heexpectedthis turn in the conversation, but he did not necessarily register surprise when it happened.
“Clio,” he said tiredly.
She pinched him again.
“Don’t youCliome,” she said, bold as brass. “I saw your whole exchange out there. It was a disaster!”
“You werespyingon me?” He couldn’t quite muster the outrage he wanted to put into this sentence, and, indeed, Clio was markedly unimpressed.
“It’s hardly spying when you’re airing your business right on the front stoop for all of Mayfair to see,” she replied—which was irksomely fair. “And you were the one supposedly so afraid of a scandal!”
Aaron, lacking a better response, harrumphed.
And then, just as he had previously feared, his sister kicked him in the shins.
“Ow!” he protested.
“You deserved it,” she said, unrepentant. “It’s one thing for you to apologize to me for having such a massive stick up your arse?—”
