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“Think on it. If he believed that his own son, an innocent, died because of demons, what a frightful world to occupy.”
James’s brow drew tight.
“You once said he treated you like a natural born son. What if he loved you and was scared for you? If his disapproval was because he was trying to save you, however misguided?”
He scoffed lightly, but the look in his eyes said he was traveling back years.
“I’m not excusing his rubbish, James, whatever he meant by it.”
“The chanting mobs.” He shuddered, and his hands closed around her wrists. “Clara, they were outside, and I heard their anger, their hatred. Like the reverend’s.”
Comportment!
The well-meaning screech from Aunt Violet suddenly ran through her mind. She lowered her hands from James’s face and wrapped her arms around him, leaning in to receive support as much as give it.
She could imagine what a mob would chant outside of her house if her behavior was discovered; she could imagine what her beloved Aunt Violet would have said.
Cavorting with prostitutes, enjoying sensual music…wrapping her mouth around James’s cock. She shook her head, dislodging the insults she could all but hear being screamed at her.
“If the reverend thought you possessed, he surely would have thought me a witch. A whore.”
“No,” came James’s rumble.
She laughed lightly. “No, he wouldn’t? Can you imagine what he’d say of me, knowing of our visits?”
“I’ll not have you shamed for our visits, Clara.”
“As I won’t stand for you thinking the mob could be right. If I’d known they were hurting you, I would have come and shouted them down.”It’s but half-jest.
“By God, woman,” he pulled back, gripping her arms lightly. “You’re fierce. You did just that. It’s because of you that the crowds are gone. You went to your brother on my behalf, didn’t you?”
James didn’t seem angry, exactly, but he was…something.Did he resent that his rival’s actions had freed him?
First, I want never to speak of my brother with you.
She’d insisted on that rule from the beginning; she’d wanted her brother completely outside of this part of her life. Yet she’d gone and mixed matters, and to boot, carried the guilt of involving her brother without him knowing why.
But Clara had only done what was necessary.
She lifted her chin. “I did.”
Breathing hard, James held her arms for another minute, then looked away. “When I called on him yesterday, I didn’t know you’d be there.”
A smile haunted her lips as she remembered the joy and horror that followed the butler’s announcement that Mr. Robertson was calling.
She’d visited to her brother for luncheon, enjoying the new era in their relations where they could openly discuss the operations at Violet House. He showed pride in her—and interest in the business of negotiating with suppliers.
David let himself be persuaded to permit Mr. Robertson's entry, but Clara’s efforts to bring together the two men she most admired fell flat.
Worse, by the time she left her brother’s, he was sore with her over her interference on Rosemount, and she, in turn, was perturbed by his dismissiveness.
“I knew a moment of distress,” she admitted to James about his arrival, “but I was heartened to see you—even if itwasmost difficult to pretend we’re not…acquainted.”
His mouth lowered to hers for a momentary tender kiss. “I missed you, Clara. And when you welcomed me, I…I’m glad you did.”
She sighed happily. “And here we are, about to break our fast together for the first time.”
His eyes were drawn back to the food on the sideboard.
