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“Are there any thieves at all?” she asked, her voice high and tight, her vision going a bit grey around the edges.
Her brother’s hand tightened. “Clara? What do you mean?”
But it was Ralph who turned to look at her, concern making his brows draw together. “She needs to sit down.”
“I will not be ignored,” Kinross bellowed. “You will answer—”
But Clara hardly heard because her knees turned to jelly. Her brother’s other arm came about her.
“Get her to a settee,” Ralph said. “Kinross, you’ll have to wait.”
Her brother took a step, his arms around her, but her legs simply wouldn’t obey as she tried to move with him. “Clara?” Marcus asked before he picked her up in his arms.
What was wrong with her? This had never happened before, but somehow, the past months seemed to crash over her: all the worrying over her mother, her old feelings for Kinross, her new ones for Ralph.
They stepped into the parlor off the entry and her brother gently laid her on the settee. Immediately, Ralph lifted her head, placing a pillow underneath it. She met his gaze, her eyes silently asking all the questions that rattled around in her head. “Later,” he murmured as he shrugged off his coat and tucked it about her body.
Suddenly, she was surrounded by his scent. Her eyes closed as tears inexplicably pricked at them.
She’d wanted this man and somehow, the scent of him—fresh air and cigar and some deep male scent—only made that desire more keen even as she began to understand.
He’d used her. He’d never been investigating thieves at all. He’d only wanted information on Kinross and he’d played on her sympathies to find out what he could about the new earl.
Just as Kinross had used her all these years. She looked away, turning her face into the plush cushions of the settee.
“What’s wrong with her?” Kinross asked. “Clara? Angel? What’s the matter?”
But she didn’t answer. She’d had enough of all of them.
Kinross’s use of the word Angel broke something inside Ralph.
He knew he had no right, but that didn’t stop jealousy from expanding inside him until it filled every crack and crevice, his fists tightening into knots. He looked at Clara’s brother as he spoke through clenched teeth. “Mister Melby, will you be all right caring for Miss Melby?”
Ralph was going invite Kinross outside, where he planned to give the man a good punch right in the gut followed by another to that perfect nose.
Marcus’s brows lifted as he straightened up. “No, I don’t think I will. Kinross, find one of your staff to fetch the doctor. I’ll need the viscountess as well.”
Kinross’s jaw tightened. “Mister Fitzroy and I are not finished.”
Mr. Melby stood straight, stepping up next to Ralph. “This moment is not about you. Understand that and then please do as I ask.”
Ralph looked over at Clara’s brother, respect for the other man deflating some of his anger. He was a credit to the entire class of selfish beasts that called themselves the elite. Calm, fair, and concerned most of all for his family, his priorities were perfectly in line. And he was right, Clara’s care came first.
Her skin had gone terribly pale and her eyes had lost their focus for a moment or two. That focus was back now and her gaze was trained on him and full of accusation. All of which he deserved.
He closed his eyes. He should have told her sooner.
Kinross’s jaw worked for several seconds before he finally turned on his heel and left. Marcus’s shoulders sank. “Thank goodness for small favors.”
Ralph turned too, kneeling down next to Clara. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
Her lips parted as she studied him. “You needn’t concern yourself.”
“But I do.” He’d like to reach for her hand. He knew she knew he’d lied and he wished he could beg for her forgiveness and declare his feelings. But there was too much at stake—if he failed the queen and she stripped him of his unofficial title of earl, he’d never be able to court and marry Clara.
She shook her head, her eyes drifting closed, the lines about them showing her strain. “You needn’t,” she repeated. Her lids lifted again, as she looked at her brother. “Fetch me a glass of water, Marcus. Please.”
Her brother refused. “I’ll not leave you alone with—”
