Page 23 of A Daring Pursuit (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #2)

N oah pulled his watch from his pocket. He likely wouldn’t have another opportunity to search Father’s chamber. With Isabelle preoccupied with her upcoming performance and his aunt and uncle accompanying Docia and Miss Wimbley from Chaston, this was the perfect moment for decisive action. He doused the candles and locked the door to his laboratory then quickly made his way up to the master chamber. At the door, he gripped the cold, circular, iron handle. He leaned his forehead and flattened his other palm on the heavy, cool oak, letting memories roil through him.

His father crashing into the vestibule that chilling, stormy night with the basket on his arm. The wind whipping his greatcoat about his powerful legs, rain saturating the floor. His searing gaze through the crack of the door, pinning Noah in place, too afraid to move away once he’d been spotted. Father entrusting him, for that first and only time Noah could recall, with a secret that now threatened all he held dear. Noah drew in a shaking breath through his nose, let it out, and turned the handle.

The bed was made, leaving no sign that Rathbourne had been in residence for Father’s services. An ache hit his chest at the loss. Loss for a man who’d been incapable of letting those closest to him in his heart. Still, Noah had loved his father because Father had given him Julius. And Julius had been worth any wrath Father had dealt out.

Noah moved to the vanity. The tabletop was devoid of shaving instruments. It appeared Winfield had already seen to his sire’s things being packed away. He tugged open a drawer, and again, empty. There was no use going through the remainder. There would be nothing to find. Still, just in case…

The wardrobe was the same. No frockcoats, waistcoats, lawn shirts, or cravats. No stockings, garters, hessians, pumps. Nothing.

The dark-green drapes were open and Noah went to the windows, then took it a step farther and unlatched the doors to the balcony. He stepped out. At the Julienne-styled rail, he set his forearms against the stone, allowing the cool breeze to whip his hair about. The briny sea air stung his eyes, causing his eyes to tear, and if anyone said different, he’d wallop them.

Bone-deep heartbreak thudded against his ribs that hurt through to his soul. He could only pray Lucius wasn’t headed for the same destiny.

The sound of clopping horses jolted him from his unsteady tranquility, and the pounding against his ribs heightened, his pulse stirring with erratic thumps. She was back.

*

Geneva strode into Stonemare, head held high. She couldn’t believe she’d let that bully Noah Oshea chase her away with his ridiculous insinuations. Pasha was right. If Geneva had been the one to throw that knife, it would have hit its mark. Noah had been looking for ways to get under her skin, and he’d landed two. A flush of heat rushed her at the carnal desire that had made off with her brain for that second stratagem. She’d capitulated to his kisses as freely as a Covent Garden doxy. It was exceedingly vexing.

Enough . She turned her irksome thoughts from Noah Oshea to her night at Docia’s. Her hand squeezing Geneva’s had opened her eyes. Such reluctant vulnerability really stole into Geneva’s heart. Yes, yes. The woman was as pretentious and self-centered as ever. Geneva could not only see beyond the surface, but, ironically, could relate to an absurd degree, despite the wide chasms separating their stations in life. One thing was clear: Docia could use lessons in developing friendships with other women. And she could scarcely do better than starting with Geneva.

Right now, however, it was past time to see for herself how Julius fared. She followed Pasha into the Morpho Suite—the name was growing on her—and changed into another of Abra’s lovely castoffs. A day dress of bright apple green that swished with elegant grace against her legs. She slipped from the sitting room and took the stairs one level up to where Julius’s chamber was located and wound her way through the corridors.

She tapped at his door.

In an instant, it flew back. Miss Isabelle stood there. Her dress suited her wickedly playful personality with its eye-catching pattern of wide stripes in gold and cream, setting off the delicate chain around her neck. She was a lovely sight and Geneva’s heart burst with joy. Miss Isabelle’s mouth dropped and a second later, she threw her arms around Geneva’s waist, banishing all other thoughts. “Oh, Miss Wimbley. I was afraid you may have changed your mind about returning.”

“Please. Call me ‘Geneva.’ Might I call you ‘Isabelle’?”

The girl nodded. “Certainly.” She spoke as if Geneva were relaying something long ago settled.

“I couldn’t possibly leave without saying goodbye to you.”

“Geneva?” Julius called from the bed.

“He’s quite cross,” Isabelle informed her in a stage whisper. She glanced over her shoulder then back. “I do believe he requires a rest. Just like a fussy infant.”

Geneva grinned. “Perhaps I can help calm his overly sensitive constitution.”

An enchanting giggle erupted from Isabelle and she stepped back, inviting Geneva in.

Geneva strolled to the bed. “How are you faring?”

“Like a cosseted fool,” he growled out. “My arm hurts like the devil.”

Isabelle gasped.

“If you don’t wish to hear my blasphemy, poppet, you may retire to your laboratory and loving collection of bugs.” Julius struggled to sitting.

In true enviable affection, Isabelle stuck her tongue out at her cousin. She turned back to Geneva. “I study bugs. I brought some interesting species from the Continent. Would you like to see?” she finished eagerly.

Julius snorted. “I warn you, many of her collected species are not for the faint-hearted.”

Geneva didn’t have the heart to inform the two of them she’d already been introduced to Isabelle’s “corner.” “I’ve never met anyone who studied bugs,” she said. “Is that a… thing?”

“Yes,” she said so matter-of-factly, it momentarily stunned Geneva.

The child was so fascinating, it boggled one’s mind. “Why?”

“I wish to be a doctor. But I can hardly operate on humans.” Isabelle’s nose wrinkled. “They wouldn’t even allow me to stitch up Julius’s arm.”

Julius snorted. “You had your nose close enough—there was blood on the tip.”

Again, she stuck her tongue out at her cousin. The camaraderie between them had Geneva rubbing a hand over her heart.

“Go play with your scorpions, scamp,” Julius told her.

Geneva stopped. Her hand moved against her neck, which had grown damp, and she took a step back. “Um, did you say… scorpion ?”

Isabelle’s impish grin flashed. “Almost blue. The hue is not as calming as the morpho butterfly’s, mind, but still, it’s very impressive.” The grin took on a mischievous tint. “I don’t think Noah appreciated my find.”

“He didn’t?” It was difficult, but Geneva managed to swallow a whimper that would surely give way to the mirth tickling inside her.

“Didn’t you know? But how could you? He’s not so freeing of information.”

While that was likely true, Geneva had no comprehension of the topic in question.

“He’s afraid of spiders and snakes. In general, most insects. To my credit, I tried explaining how vital they are to the ecologic system.”

Geneva gasped. “No,” she breathed. “Noah—er, I mean, Mr. Oshea afraid? But…” The man was the epitome of brute strength.

A choked cough of raucous laughter spilled from Julius across the chamber. “Belle, I could use some fresh water.”

“Oh, yes. All right. I’ll return soon.” She hurried out.

Geneva moved to Julius’s bedside, where a full pitcher of water stood. She lifted a brow at him, then poured out a glass and handed it to him. “Truly? Mr. Oshea is afraid of spiders? Snakes, I understand.” She dropped into the chair next to the bed. “Still, it’s difficult to imagine the man fearing anything.”

“He does. It’s comical, actually. There aren’t many species of spiders of the poisonous variety about this far north. Too cold, I expect.” He shrugged, then winced, having obviously forgotten his wound. “Nothing truly harmful. But what do I know? Isabelle is the resident expert.” He laughed softly then stopped. “Except snakes. Adders are prevalent in Northumberland, especially as the weather grows warmer. They are dangerous, so mind where you walk.”

His words startled her and she sensed something quite personal about them. She opened her mouth, fully intending to inquire regarding that very thing, but something stopped her.

Julius didn’t appear to notice and went on with a short laugh. “I can just imagine Noah’s reaction to seeing that blue scorpion of Isabelle’s. Just the thought of such a creature gives me the willies.”

Geneva laughed too. “You?”

His stunned expression was priceless, brows disappearing under the untidy hair covering his forehead. “You don’t fear spiders?”

“I grew up in a near slum, sir,” she said with a wry smile. “Disturbing creatures are a normal part of life outside the confines of Mayfair. Though the snakes I typically encounter are of the human variety.”

A contemplative look entered his eyes. “What, then, is it you fear?”

Geneva’s gaze dropped. No one had ever asked her such. “I’m not sure I could even articulate an answer.” A wry smile touched her. “My loss of independence, I suppose. But that does not appear to be in jeopardy.”

“What else?”

She shrugged. “Being forgotten.” The words came out a mere whisper.

“I doubt anyone could forget you. I certainly won’t.”

His words snapped her out of the odd doldrum and her gaze fell to his bandaged arm. “Are you truly all right?”

“Yes, blast it. Thanks to you.”

She didn’t rise to his baiting tone. “Then why are you still in bed?”

He went to cross his arms—flinched—then grinned. “Because I’m being waited upon hand and foot, of course,” he said. “And the family has threatened my life if I so much as step outside this room.”

She didn’t return the smile, tilting her head to one side. “Who do you suppose would do such a thing?”

“I’ve no notion. I’ve been on the Grand Tour the last few months. I haven’t made anyone angry in years.”

“Well, there’s me,” she informed him blithely.

“What?”

“You ran off and left me in a forest!” she accused him. “Alone! Where I tripped over a dead body. I vow, I would have preferred facing an adder!”

“Yes, well, I apologized for that.” There wasn’t an ounce of repentance in his voice. “Besides, most brothers would have done the same. As a jest.” He tipped another grin. “You would know that if you’d grown up with your sibling around or visited your friends who have siblings.” He let out a mocking sigh. “It’s quite fortunate that you’ve found me. Otherwise, you would be a hopeless case.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “Hopeless case?”

“Well.” He picked at the sling holding his arm then speared her with a pointed look. “I think we can safely assume now that you shall never be forgotten… sister. ”

Stunned, touched, floored, Geneva stumbled to her feet, unable to speak for the sudden tears constricting her airway. Then, shaking her head, she ran from the chamber. More accurately, she ran from the sudden and unfamiliar emotions drowning her.