with OâShea might ruin her reputation. But losing the auction house would destroy her. âPilcher isnât the problem. Itâs my brother, Peter Everleigh. I dislike to say it, but heâs not fit to run a business.â
âCertainly heâs got no talent at cards,â Mr. OâShea said pleasantly.
She stared. âHe comes here?â
âOnce or twice. Never left but with pockets to let.â
She hadnât known that. The news embittered her next words. âWhat he lost was not his to gamble. He is embezzling profits from our auction rooms. If his corruption were discovered, the scandal would destroy us.â
âPity. And Pilcher? You knew him. Didnât like him, from what I saw. How does he factor?â
âOh, I . . .â She hesitated, oddly flustered by the need to speak the words aloud. âMy brother has taken it into his mind that I will marry him.â
He nodded once. âAnd you donât want to.â
âOf course not. Iâve no intention of marrying anybody. But Peter has threatened to sell the auction house if I donât comply. And Mr. Pilcher, for his part, is oddly persistent.â
He sat back, a slight smile working over his mouth. âNot so odd, Iâd say. You ever look in a mirror?â
She bit her cheek. It was one thing to play deaf to clientsâ smooth compliments, but when closeted alone with a rogue, such words felt unnerving. âIâI donât care why heâs interested. But with my brotherâs encouragement, he has made himself quite . . . unwelcome.â
His expression hardened. âHow?â
âNothing worth your time.â
âIâll be the judge of that.â
She frowned. âVery well. There was one evening recently . . . he was waiting for my brother at our home.â She had returned home late, and found Pilcher alone in the drawing room. âI had no interest in speaking with him, but he insisted upon it. When I tried to leave, he grabbed my wrist and . . .â It seemed stupid, suddenly, to complain of being touched so, when OâShea had probably proved far rougher in his time with any number of women. âIt was nothing,â she muttered. But had the butler not walked past, she did not like to think what would have happened.
OâShea was staring at her through narrowed eyes. âYou make a habit of doubting your instincts, Miss Everleigh?â
âNo.â
âGood.â His smile was swift and sharp, as though she had passed some kind of test.
The approval flustered her. She dropped her eyes, but it seemed there was nowhere safe to look. At some point, he had unknotted his necktie, and his collar fell open to reveal the powerful cording of his neck. The evening coat fit him very closely, emphasizing the heavy musculature of his upper body. He was tallenough that one did not realize at first the power of his build.
She would like to see Pilcher try to manhandle this man .
âNever mind that,â she said. âI want to hire you, sir. To stop my brother from his depredations. And to . . .â She took a deep breath. âTo persuade him not to sell the auction rooms.â
âAnd to discourage Pilcher?â
âA pleasant bonus. But my main concern is Everleighâs.â
He nodded, then drummed his fingers once. âStop your brother, how?â
The show of interest encouraged her. He might have refused outright, after all. âI donât wish him injured. I simply wish him unable to participate in the directorship of Everleighâs.â
âPrettily put,â he said. âLetâs be plainer. You want him kicked out on his arse.â
Something in his easy, loose posture made her painfully aware of how rigidly she held herself, and the nerves she was trying hard to conceal. âThat is another way to put it, yes.â
He grinned. âNot very sisterly, is
Ivan Klíma
Sonja Dechian
Rosemary Sutcliff
Day Leclaire
Henry Cole
Victoria Clark
KC Acton
Sally Warner
Carnal Hours (v5.0)
Brian Evenson