Page 35 of Redemption

“Then why did you?” Suddenly feeling as though he had fallen into a spider’s web, Percy met his sister’s steady gaze warily.

“Because she’s important to you.”

The simplicity of Patience’s response was emphasized as she rolled her shoulders in a small shrug. Almost as if she were waiting for a reaction from him, her gaze narrowed with calculated assessment. Tension slid through him until his muscles were stiff and rigid. Slowly clasping his hands behind his back, Percy studied Patience’s serene and confident expression. She knew her observation had hit its mark. While it was an accurate appraisal, it wasn’t for the reason Patience believed. Derisive laughter filled his head, and he blocked out the sound.

“Perhaps you’d care to elaborate on that statement,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.

“It means I believe you care about Miss Bennett. I’m simply undecided as to whether she’s just another stray waif you feel compelled to care for or if she’s special in another way.”

“I do not take in strays,” he growled.

The instant Patience raised her eyebrows and nodded toward Hercules, sprawled out on the carpet, Percy grimaced. The family was accustomed to him bringing home stray animals in need of shelter and a good home. Hercules had been no different. The old dog had been a treasured member of the family since the day Percy had brought the animal to Melton House more than ten years ago. Curled up in the pit of the dog’s chest and front legs, was the newest member of the house, Andromeda. Percy had found the kitten wet and half-dead from starvation near the Thames shortly after the first of the year. Hercules had taken on the role of protector the moment Andromeda had entered the house.

“Hercules wasn’t your first stray or your last,” Patience observed softly. “There have been others.”

Although his sister didn’t mention her by name, he knew Patience was referring to Nellie. Percy’s hand tightened its already painful grip on his wrist, as he continued to keep his hands clasped behind his back. With deliberation, he forced himself to appear nonchalant. As Patience studied him with a calculating look, he eyed her coldly.

“Rhea is not Nellie, and my interest in her is solely because her sister is married to my best friend.”

Percy’s jaw tightened further. His reply was a complete fabrication, and he knew it. But the last thing he wanted was Patience probing deeper into his connection with Rhea. If Patience discovered the circumstances of their first meeting, his sister would feel less than charitable toward Rhea. Actually, that was a mild turn of phrase for the outrage the entire family would heap on Rhea’s head. His brush with death had followed close on the heels of Caleb’s and Devin’s tragic deaths. The fear, worry, and panic his siblings had suffered the night after the museum theft was still an open wound in their minds. Patience cocked her head to one side as she stared at him intensely.

“I think there’s more to all this than meets the eye.”

“Now, you’re going to tell me you’ve had a vision,” he said with a harsh sarcasm that covered a moment of panic. Had the an dara sealladh shown his sister something about Rhea? No, she would have interrogated him the minute he’d enter the drawing room a short time ago. Ever since the fire, Patience had taken to asking questions whenever she’d had a vision that made no sense to her. Percy was certain that deep down Patience still blamed herself for Caleb’s and Devin’s deaths.

Everyone knew there was no blame to place on anyone. It had been a terrible accident, but he knew his sister well. They’d always been close, and he, more than anyone, understood how self-recrimination could cripple you. His stomach knotted as the horrifying image of Nellie’s death spilled its way into his mind. Ruthlessly, he shoved the terrible memories back into the abyss from where they’d emerged. His own past allowed him to understand Patience better than she thought, and she needed to face her fear. A voice in the back of his head snorted with disgust at his hypocrisy. As he met Patience’s gaze, she shook her head in disagreement.

“No. I’m referring to the fact that you experienced the an dara sealladh at the orphanage.” Patience raised her hand as he opened his mouth to refute her words. “Don’t deny it. We both know you never have a migraine after the an dara sealladh unless your vision is relevant to someone who’s important to you.”

“How do you know the an dara sealladh didn’t involve you?” he hedged trying to guide the conversation in a different direction than where Patience clearly was headed. She rolled her eyes and glared at him.

“You’ve never taken me for a fool, Percy Rockwood. Don’t start now.”

His sister’s scorn made his jaw tighten as he fought to keep his expression devoid of emotion. He wasn’t about to admit her astute observation had hit far closer to home than he’d been willing to acknowledge up until this moment. It had been easier to ignore the fact that his interest in Rhea wasn’t simply because of Ruckley. She was strong, resourceful, self-reliant, and courageous. They were admirable qualities in anyone, but it was the vulnerability hiding beneath those attributes that aroused a need to protect her by whatever means necessary.

Patience was correct. Rhea was important to him. He’d known their paths were destined to cross from the first time the an dara sealladh had shown him those beautiful violet eyes of hers. His vision had never been clear where Rhea was concerned, and it wasn’t until that night in the museum when his gaze had locked with hers that he’d realized he was meant to help her. But deep inside he knew there was another purpose to their connection. A link he wasn’t quite ready to consider.

“You’re mistaken,” he said in a flat and emotionless voice. But he realized his stiff posture belied his denial. Patience narrowed her eyes.

“Am I?” There was a note of sisterly rebuke in Patience’s voice as she arched her eyebrows at him. “You don’t sound all too certain of that.”

“My interest, or lack thereof, in Rhea Bennett is not a topic of debate.”

“I am not debating the issue with you, Percy,” his sister said with a frown. “I’m simply making an observation.”

“An observation—I see.” Percy’s voice echoed with suspicious disbelief as he saw complacency sweep across his sister’s face. With the skill of a politician, Patience had shifted the focus of the original discussion, and he had no intention of allowing the subject to fall to the wayside.

For weeks, the family had been gently coaxing Patience to attend Sebastian’s birthday celebration here in town. The fact she’d attended the party at Melton Park had been almost as big a step forward as her decision to return working at the orphanage whenever she and Julian were in town. It wasn’t the fear of being stared at that bothered Patience the most. It was the fear of being pitied.

What she didn’t understand was that she’d stared death in the face and lived despite the horror of it. A few probing questions or piteous looks from insensitive members of the Set were nothing compared to what she’d endured. She had the heart of a lion, and he needed to drive that point home to her. To do so meant he had to be cruel, and the knowledge already tasted bitter and foul in his mouth.

“Perhaps I’m the one who should be making observations.”

“About?” Patience eyed him cautiously.

“The fact that my sister isn’t just being stubborn, she’s acting like a coward.”

“A coward,” Patience exclaimed as she sprang to her feet. She whirled to face her husband. “Julian MacTavish, are you going to stand there and let him call your wife a coward?”