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I nodded and followed the Bradwells into the Pump Room. Somehow, again, Benedict had known precisely what I had needed to hear. It was becoming increasingly difficult to recall all the reasons I could not allow his flirtation to develop into something real.
Chapter27
THEA
The office of Robertson and Sons was located on a quiet street, at the top of an inclining hill. The morning’s fog had drifted away, melting in the sun, and though it was cold outside, my palms were sweating. I longed to remove my gloves, but I would not have this half-brother thinking me a country rustic lacking in basic manners.
For all I knew, he was a fop or a status climber.
Felicity stopped outside the door. “We will come in with you to make certain everything is right and proper, but then we can leave if you wish.”
I looked from her to Benedict. James had opted to remain home with Henry and had asked Benedict if he wanted to do the same—he did not believe I wanted an audience for such an emotional meeting. But my stalwart companion was proving himself and now accompanied us to the door, lending the support I needed from him.
“Thank you,” I said, following Felicity and Benedict inside.
Benedict leaned over and whispered quietly. “I will not leave your side unless you ask me to.”
His quiet, steady assurance filled me with the strength to face the embodiment of my father’s infidelity—the reason I could never trust Benedict as a husband. The irony was not lost on me, fleeting though the recognition was.
Mr. Robertson greeted us, his long, narrow face much more pleasant than I’d expected from a man who had stripped me of half my inheritance. He paused after the introductions were made and smiled down at me. “Your father spoke so well of you. I can see he did not exaggerate your beauty.”
My cheeks warmed, and I nodded my thanks.
“I suppose we oughtn’t wait any longer. Mr. Danvers arrived a little early and is eager to meet you.”
Mr. Robertson crossed the small room to a door at the end of a narrow corridor and turned back to smile affectionately at me again. His behavior was strange, settling misgivings in my stomach. Something about this situation was off, and I worried about what it could be.
Benedict assumed a defensive position ahead of me and followed Felicity into the room. I hung back, waiting for a signal from him that the mother was present and I would flee, but it never came. The office was decidedly lacking in trills, clucks, and meows.
“Miss Northcott?” the solicitor called.
I stepped forward hesitantly as Benedict leaned out of the doorway. His eyebrows lifted, and a soft smile warmed his face. He still emitted no feline or birdlike sounds, so I took that as an affirmative that my brother was in there alone.
The room was quiet, the three people who had preceded me into it silently awaiting me. I stepped forward, into the surprisingly bright room, sunlight streaming through the window and onto . . . a young boy.
The room was otherwise empty except for the people I had arrived with, the solicitor, and this child. I shook my head a little. I wanted to believe there had been some sort of misunderstanding, but I knew at once that I was looking at my brother, for it nearly felt as though I was looking into a mirror from a decade before.
He stood up immediately when I came into the room, evidence of whatever good manners were being pressed into him. His dark hair was combed and pomaded, the part at the back stuck up a little—though not for his evident lack of trying to slick it down. His round, wide blue eyes and heart-shaped face were my own, and I could see my father in him at once.
“Good day, Miss Northcott,” he said, his little voice crossing the room, followed by a polite bow.
I curtsied, for I did not know how else to reply to this small gentleman-child. I’d come wholly unprepared for such a young brother and felt my father should have warned me better. Though, in his defense, I suppose he must have written the letter when Archibald was quite young and did not anticipate how old the boy would be when I met him.
“Good day,” I said.
“We will leave you to get acquainted now,” Mr. Robertson said, leading Felicity and a wide-eyed Benedict from the room. I gave a small nod, and Benedict closed the door behind himself.
“Would you care to be seated?” Archibald asked, again with polite calmness. He had evidently known of me for a good while if he could be so utterly unruffled.
“I would, thank you.” I shook my shock away and took the seat beside him. He was a child, and children—from my limited experience—did not mince words. Despite feeling as though he acted a decade older than he appeared, I decided to speak to him like he was little. “It does not seem as though you are as surprised by my existence as I am by yours.”
“How could I be? I’ve known of you my whole life.”
That was unexpected. “How unfair. I only learned of you a few weeks ago.”
His little nose scrunched up in thought. “It must have been strange to learn you had a brother.”
“Strange, yes.”
