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“Grant’s worth twice of me,” he said softly.
Nick lightly punched his shoulder. “Fah. You’re equally fine men, and we’re all proud of you.”
“I was nothing but trouble for you, Nick. You didn’t deserve what I put you through.”
“Laddie, is there something you wish to tell me?” his brother quietly asked.
A million things, but he hadn’t the words to express them. “No, but maybe someday.”
“I’m here for you, Graeme. Always.”
His blasted throat went tight again. “I know.”
“And you can have a good chat with Grant. He should be rolling in from Glasgow in the next day or so.”
Graeme propped a shoulder against the corner of the window bay. “Where’s everyone else? Seems too quiet for a Kendrick household.”
“I’m here,” said Royal as he strode through the door. A broad smile lit up his lean features and made his green eyes glitter like emeralds. “Damn, it’s grand to see you, laddie boy.”
Graeme met him halfway and enveloped his brother in a bear hug. “I missed ye more than I can say. Thank God yer finally home.”
Royal and Ainsley’s return was a great, unalloyed blessing. Still, Graeme would eventually have to tell them about his encounter with Cringlewood, and about Sabrina’s troubles with the bastard, too. He hated the notion of calling up such ugly ghosts from the past.
As for Sabrina, he’d been doing his bestnotto think about the lass at all.
“What’s wrong?” Royal asked sharply.
Graeme refocused. “Nothing at all.”
When he once more found himself under a narrow-eyed inspection, he grimaced.
“Victoria’s right,” Royal said. “You’ve been working too hard.”
Graeme gave him a halfhearted shove. “Are you all going to treat me like a child? If so, I’ll be on the next mail coach out of town.”
“Let’s talk about that,” Nick said. “You know I would have been happy to pay for a private chaise. There was no need for such austerity, Graeme.”
True, but Graeme had gotten used to a simpler life. In fact, he liked being mostly anonymous, taking on different roles for his work and spending most of his days on the fringes of society. It was easier to pretend to be someone other than who he truly was—a Kendrick, with all the complications that came with so distinguished a name.
He shrugged. “I like the mail coach.”
“No one likes the mail coach,” Royal said.
Vicky reentered the room. “I expect he wanted to sneak up on us. Now that he works for my brother, he’s gotten very secretive.”
“We’re supposed to be secretive. It’s part of the job.”
She settled onto one of the sofas. “Don’t think we won’t be having a chat about your job, Graeme Kendrick.”
Vicky, the overprotective lass, had never approved of his work.
He pretended to inspect the large medallion encircling the chandelier. “And this is exactly why I don’t come home very often.”
“Younevercome home anymore,” Nick said.
“I did last year, before Logan and Donella left for Halifax.”
“And barely stayed a week,” Nick replied with brotherly disapproval.
