Page 97 of To Catch A Rogue

"But?" she whispered.

"Now we have an awfully big fucking problem. We need to tell Gemma."

"No!"

"Why not?" He captured her hands. "I trust them with my life. She would never hurt you or betray you. And Obsidian.... What if heisDmitri Grigoriev? That would make him your brother too."

"What if he's not? He has no memories, Charlie! He has nomarque du sang. All he has is the Grigoriev family tree quite conveniently placed in the file Lord Balfour had on him and a few tattoos on his arm. We already know Balfour's not above manipulating the truth."

"And if he kills Sergey, then Balfour's told him he will give him the proof he's looking for."

"I heard what Balfour said too, Charlie. 'I will give you proof of your birth family and where you came from.' He didn't say he was a Grigoriev." She turned and paced three steps, one hand to her temples. "I don't know what to do. If that man is my brother, then part of him didn't survive. I don't know if I trust him. Nikolai's dangerous." She breathed out a laugh. "He's the leader of theChernyye Volki, for goodness sake. And they were responsible for killing my mother and siblings right in front of me." Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know if I can trust him."

"Hey." Charlie's hands closed over her shoulders. "You're not alone."

Lark reached up to cup her hand over his.

"I know. Why are you being so nice to me?" she whispered. "I've been lying to you, pushing you away, keeping secrets."

Charlie rested his hand over hers. "You're not the only one who knows what it feels like to wake in the middle of the night and have your entire life upended."

She looked up as if she'd forgotten.

His father, Sir Artemus Todd, had roused the ire of a powerful duke in London when Charlie was barely fourteen. Charlie had been woken in the middle of the night by his sister, Honoria, and torn from his nice, warm bed. She'd stuffed both him and Lena in a carriage and made the three of them vanish into the streets of Whitechapel before the duke could find them.

He'd never seen his father again.

"I know what it's like to be afraid," Charlie murmured. "I know what it's like to spend every day looking over your shoulder, wondering if that man's watching you too closely. If the duke is still looking for you. You miss everything you once took for granted. We had to leave everything behind. My mother's photograph; the bear she'd given me when I was a child; my toy trains; my books; everything. Life is never the same again."

Lark slid her hands around his waist and he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "What would I do without you, Charlie?"

He glanced down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Hopefully, we never need to find out. Promise me you'll think about telling the others."

"You won't do it for me?"

"It's your choice," he pointed out. "I would never take that from you."

Lark bit her lip.

"But you need to think about the possibility that Nikolai is in this mess up to his eyeballs. He's Sergey's little lapdog, and Sergey belongs to Balfour. If Balfour discovers there's a Grigoriev princess floating around...."

The color drained from her face.

"I just don't want to see you hurt," he murmured, "or used as a weapon."

"I'll tell them," she whispered, "but not for my own sake. For yours. He knows you're important to me and he warned me that you were my weakness. I can't let him hurt you."

Chapter 18

It was after midnight that Sergey announced a surprise.

In honor of the tsarina, he'd arranged for fireworks at his palace several miles away—and all the guests were invited. The carriages had already been prepared to take them the short distance. They'd return of course, Sergey assured Balfour, but there was music provided for those who wished to stay.

The look on Balfour's face had been almost worth it as his night was usurped.

"Think you can take the second carriage?" Charlie said, putting a hand directly to Kincaid's chest.

The burly mech paused. "Any reason?"