Page 2 of Unmasked at Midnight

“You’re gaping at her like a moonstruck swain, Dare.”

Cassiusdidn’t appear the least contrite for almost toppling Darius off the ladder.

Ignoringhis brother’s teasing, Darius descended a couple of rungs and, with great satisfaction, examined the store’s bay window. The display needed a few more books and other reading-related doodads before he would consider it completed, but it was coming along quite nicely.

Satisfactionburgeoned behind his breastbone. Compelled by grit and determination, he had done this, not his father’s wealth and influence.

Histwin continued to grin like a drunken buffoon.

“I’m grateful you delivered the sign in person, but shouldn’t you return to your art studio in Brighton, Cass?”

“No.” Cassius shook his head. “No, I don’t believe I shall.”

Dariustamped down a surge of annoyance. “I’m sure you have eager patrons vying to have their portraits painted.”

Therewas a time Darius worried his twin would never paint again.

“My patrons can wait. Besides, you know I always bring my supplies with me. I might even dabble at a landscape or two while I’m here.” Cassius leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. Deep blue eyes, so like Darius’s, glinted with suppressed worry as he rubbed his chin. “In truth, I determined just this morning that as a good brother, I ought to remain and lend a hand. PerhapsI’ll stay for a few weeks. I might even recruit Layton to assist.”

Bollocks.

Betrayaland cynicism had skewed their half-brother Layton’s view on marriage and on life in general. The taciturn eldest Westbrook sibling was the last person Darius wanted advice from.

“Lend a hand?” Darius released a snort worthy of a RoyalAscot racehorse. “Spying on my courtship of MissClarke, you mean.”

“Guilty.” Cassius burst into laughter. “It’s my duty as your twin. We’ve already had multiple siblings charge headlong to the altar with undue haste. I’m here to assure you don’t make the same mistake. Did you forget our vow of bachelorhood?”

Ayoung man’s immature declaration.

Cassiushad been scorned in love, as had Layton. Naturally, neither brother had an interest in marriage.

“Courting her is not a proposal, Cass,” Darius said dryly. He might very well find they weren’t as compatible as he hoped. If he fell in love, he wouldn’t mind a quick union either.

Besides, was it truly a mistake to marry for love, even if Society deemed the wooing rushed? Despite their relatively short courtships and improbable matches, his siblings, Leonidas, Althelia, Adolphus, Lucius, and Fletcher, were all ridiculously happy.

Dariussupposed he would have to wait and see how his courting progressed. Easier done without an interfering twin hanging about or a brooding older brother who had as much use for marriage as he did carbuncles.

Dariushad chosen Woodhaven as the location for his establishment as much because of the quaint but growing township’s charm as the proximity to his father’s ducal estate—a mere forty-five-minute carriage ride away.

Convenient, but perhaps too much so.

Inthe past week alone, Mother and Father had come unannounced thrice to check on the bookstore’s progress.

Or, more aptly, to see if their second youngest child’s foray into the world of commerce required financial assistance—which it did not. Despite his rather meager naval compensation, Darius had saved enough capital to invest in the venture, thanks to adhering to a frugal budget, along with investments from his writer-brother Leonidas and his half-brother Fletcher, who owned two successful social clubs.

Theonly ripple was how Darius would support a wife—if he decided to propose—in the manner she was accustomed to until the bookstore became solvent. He didn’t mind economizing—it taught a person discipline and prudence, and also built character. However, as certain as he was that red blood pumped through his veins, he was equally convinced that Eudora would not appreciate frugality.

Takinga deep breath of the refreshing sea air, he shoved that disconcerting truth to a corner of his mind to examine later.

Love conquers all.

Washe in love with the fetching miss?

Somethingvery pleasant burbled behind his ribs and warmed his blood. Surely that was love or something very near the emotion.

DariusEthanTrentWestbrook, you are in suds up to your starched neckcloth.

Yes. Yes. I am.