Read Online The Black Lotus (Night Flower) by Claire Warner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claire Warner
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his dark eyes observing his brother with cool detachment.
“So have you managed to find the answer to our predicament in the arms of some blue blooded wench?” There was a bitter note to his laughter and Justin winced inwardly at the change in his brother’s manner. He glanced at the knife, at the enamel lotus set into the handle.
“I hope you’re not pl anning to stab anyone with that,” He indicated the knife and stood up. Crossing to the fire, he poked the glowing embers into sullen life. “Murder would be awkward to deal with.”
“If stabbing you would get me results I would have done it years ago. Unfortunately we both know that it won’t work,” He pointed at the enamel brooch on the mantle. “I notice that yours is still filling the role of jewellery.”
“I like it close.” Justin reached over to the table and hefted another bottle, with a quick motion he threw it towards Alistair. His brother caught it one handed and took a long drink.
“So how about you?” He leant against the edge of the sideboard and regarded his sibling with a curious look. “Has your night-time roaming come up with anything substantial?”
“Of course it hasn’t, ” Alistair snapped back. “When you get us in trouble, you manage to really do it thoroughly.”
Justin ignored the words, he had listened to hundreds of variations on this speech and he could recite each word in his sleep. It didn’t help that Alistair was right, had he been sensible , or at the very least cautious, they would not be in this predicament. Still, he hated to be reminded of his follies by his brother.
“So glad I oblige, ” He took another long drink and regarded his brother’s angry features. “Have you spoken to the others recently?”
“No,” Alistair took a swig from the bottle in his hand and stared at the floor distractedly. “I haven’t seen any of them for a number of years now,” Alistair glanced up at his brother and raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”
Justin nodded, placing the bottle back on the sideboard , “I see Emily from time to time,” He stared down at the faded glory of the sideboard, cracks from age and misuse had destroyed the heavy but once beautifully carved piece of furniture. “She’s still passing herself off as the bereft widow of an elderly noble.” He absently traced his finger across the whorls in the wood, memories of a long dead past threatening to choke him.
Alistair chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s our Emily, the noble whore.. ”
“Don’t start Alistair, ” Justin turned back to his brother, “Emily has fewer options than we do,”
“Yes and one more crime to lay at your door. ” Alistair snarled back, slamming his bottle down onto the table as though to punctuate his words. “She must think she has entered hell,”
"Actually, she is doing fine," A loud, amused voice echoed through the room, cutting across their conversation. Justin pushed himself away from the sideboard, reaching for the rapier he kept in the corner of the room as his brother whirled to face the door, dagger held tightly in his fingers.
"Now now boys ; is there any need for that?" Leaning against the doorframe with an expression of amused nonchalance on her delicate features, was Emily Saint-Clair. In contrast to the immaculately coiffered temptress of earlier, she was dressed in man's breeches with a frilled shirt and long waistcoat; her blonde hair was tied at the nape of her neck beneath a man's tricorn hat and a riding crop twirled idly between her fingers.
"Very nice," Justin noted as his gaze swept across her form with a deliberate leer, "you look," He settled against the sideboard, his rapier falling to the floor. "delectable,"
"You're looking particularly fine yourself." She answered his sensual gaze with one of her own as she pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped forward. "Quite
“So have you managed to find the answer to our predicament in the arms of some blue blooded wench?” There was a bitter note to his laughter and Justin winced inwardly at the change in his brother’s manner. He glanced at the knife, at the enamel lotus set into the handle.
“I hope you’re not pl anning to stab anyone with that,” He indicated the knife and stood up. Crossing to the fire, he poked the glowing embers into sullen life. “Murder would be awkward to deal with.”
“If stabbing you would get me results I would have done it years ago. Unfortunately we both know that it won’t work,” He pointed at the enamel brooch on the mantle. “I notice that yours is still filling the role of jewellery.”
“I like it close.” Justin reached over to the table and hefted another bottle, with a quick motion he threw it towards Alistair. His brother caught it one handed and took a long drink.
“So how about you?” He leant against the edge of the sideboard and regarded his sibling with a curious look. “Has your night-time roaming come up with anything substantial?”
“Of course it hasn’t, ” Alistair snapped back. “When you get us in trouble, you manage to really do it thoroughly.”
Justin ignored the words, he had listened to hundreds of variations on this speech and he could recite each word in his sleep. It didn’t help that Alistair was right, had he been sensible , or at the very least cautious, they would not be in this predicament. Still, he hated to be reminded of his follies by his brother.
“So glad I oblige, ” He took another long drink and regarded his brother’s angry features. “Have you spoken to the others recently?”
“No,” Alistair took a swig from the bottle in his hand and stared at the floor distractedly. “I haven’t seen any of them for a number of years now,” Alistair glanced up at his brother and raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”
Justin nodded, placing the bottle back on the sideboard , “I see Emily from time to time,” He stared down at the faded glory of the sideboard, cracks from age and misuse had destroyed the heavy but once beautifully carved piece of furniture. “She’s still passing herself off as the bereft widow of an elderly noble.” He absently traced his finger across the whorls in the wood, memories of a long dead past threatening to choke him.
Alistair chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s our Emily, the noble whore.. ”
“Don’t start Alistair, ” Justin turned back to his brother, “Emily has fewer options than we do,”
“Yes and one more crime to lay at your door. ” Alistair snarled back, slamming his bottle down onto the table as though to punctuate his words. “She must think she has entered hell,”
"Actually, she is doing fine," A loud, amused voice echoed through the room, cutting across their conversation. Justin pushed himself away from the sideboard, reaching for the rapier he kept in the corner of the room as his brother whirled to face the door, dagger held tightly in his fingers.
"Now now boys ; is there any need for that?" Leaning against the doorframe with an expression of amused nonchalance on her delicate features, was Emily Saint-Clair. In contrast to the immaculately coiffered temptress of earlier, she was dressed in man's breeches with a frilled shirt and long waistcoat; her blonde hair was tied at the nape of her neck beneath a man's tricorn hat and a riding crop twirled idly between her fingers.
"Very nice," Justin noted as his gaze swept across her form with a deliberate leer, "you look," He settled against the sideboard, his rapier falling to the floor. "delectable,"
"You're looking particularly fine yourself." She answered his sensual gaze with one of her own as she pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped forward. "Quite
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