Page 97 of A Relentless Rake

Thatwas also very much unlike the baroness. But then, Alec thought he knew Sir George Pittens, too. Apparently, Scepter was turning all kinds of people into murderers and traitors.

“When Everett was presented with an opportunity to make money by working on the plans for the club, he jumped at the chance as his only way to stay out of gaol. But in the end, Scepter’s payment wasn’t quite enough to bring him out of debt. Conveniently, they offered more money for another set of calculations. This time for Waterloo Bridge. And this time, they threatened to kill both him and his sister if he refused.”

Alec shook his head and voiced his doubts. “I’ve known the baroness for years. She’s not the sort of woman to be involved with revolutionaries.”

“Yet she is.” Reed swallowed the last of his drink. “She put those girls in danger last night and nearly killed the little one.” He stared into his glass. “With that broken leg, she’ll be lucky if she’s not in pain for the rest of her life. I won’t let Lady Rowland get away with that.”

The anger that edged his half brother’s voice over little Cora didn’t surprise Alec. But the fact that the two of them were finding more and more in common certainly did. Oh, they would never be as close as true brothers, would never spend holidays together or visit each other’s homes for social calls.

Yet for the first time, Alec considered the possibility that they might somehow be able to come to terms with their father’s ghost.

Reed set his empty glass down with a small thud of determination. “I’m going after the baroness. She’s my part of the mission now.”

Alec gestured toward his bandaged arm. “I won’t be of much help.”

“I’ve got Clayton to call on if I need him.” Reed grinned at him. “Besides, you’ve got Miss Everett to look after.”

Alec tossed back the last of his cognac. He wasn’t nearly so certain of that himself.

“Alexander, are you able to—” Isabel Sinclair choked off in midsentence as she strode into the library and found the two men together.

Her startled eyes landed on Reed, and her face paled as if she were seeing a ghost. Exactly that, Alec supposed. She was seeing Rupert Sinclair in Reed’s hazel eyes and curly chestnut hair, the sharp cut of his jaw, and the muscular breadth of his shoulders.

“My apologies for interrupting,” she forced out in breathless surprise. “I didn’t realize we had company.”

“Mother.” Alec quickly shoved himself away from the reading table and took her arm to lead her forward.

Reed and his mother had never met, so introductions were in order, yet both of them certainly knew of the other. Thick tension instantly swirled around them and added a solemn apprehension to the moment.

“May I introduce Captain Reed of His Majesty’s Horse Guards?” Alec reassuringly squeezed her elbow. “Captain Reed, my mother, Isabel Sinclair, Countess of St James.”

Reed politely bowed with the finely honed honor and decorum of an officer. “A pleasure, my lady.” Although from the icy tone of his voice and the stiff bend of his body, the meeting was anything but pleasurable.

“For me as well, Captain,” she said softly, but Alec heard a hint of earnestness that surprised him. He would have thought the last person she’d ever want to meet was the walking, talking embodiment of her husband’s debauchery.

Awkward silence stretched between them, with the countess not knowing what else to say and Reed refusing to say anything, yet neither of them had stormed out of the room. Alec took hope in that. Perhaps the two parts of Rupert Sinclair’s life might come to acceptable terms of peace after all.

Then his mother pulled back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and admitted what they were all thinking. “I suppose there’s no point in pretending we don’t know the truth about each other, is there?”

Reed’s mouth pulled down. “No, ma’am. There’s not.”

She nodded slowly, accepting that at least they were all standing on common ground now. “I’ve always wondered…how long have you known about us?”

“Since I was fifteen, ma’am.”

She caught her breath. “So young…” Her slender shoulders drooped beneath the weight of the past that pressed down upon all of them. “So much longer than I supposed.”

Reed said nothing but tightened his jaw, which unwittingly made him resemble their father even more. What Alec didn’t know was whether the man was resisting the urge to ask how long the Sinclairs had known about him or if he was biting down the temptation to tell the lot of them to go to hell. He certainly had every right.

Wringing her hands, Isabel took a hesitant step toward Reed. Alec let her go, watching her curiously. His mother was never awkward or uncertain. Always she was confident, like a force of nature. But this meeting with Reed had visibly shaken her to her core. “Your mother…is she well?”

Reed’s eyes narrowed as they studied her, and he asked quietly, yet not at all rudely, “Do you really care?”

She gave a jerking nod as if to convince herself as much as him. “I do.”

Reed considered her for a moment, then relaxed his spine just a fraction and answered carefully, “My mother is well, your ladyship.”

The iciness of his overly formal answer forced a self-conscious smile from Isabel and an attempt to dissolve the growing tension between them. “A mother always worries about another mother’s—”