Suddenly recalling what Ashton had told him about his uncle-in-law, Brant sighed. “You could have just asked,” he said and took a sip of his brandy. “My mother shot her. Olympia saw that my mother was planning to shoot me, climbed up the wall of the house and was coming in through the window when her skirt tore. The noise was enough to draw my mother’s attention and she shot her. Unfortunately, your sister decided she could wait to have her wound seen to because my mother, who was shot by Pawl, was speaking and let free a few more nasty secrets before she died. None of which were worth your sister bleeding quietly in the corner. Something I mean to tell her if they ever allow me in to see her.”
Argus studied him for a moment, glanced to the door as if he thought to run up the stairs and see to matters himself, and then looked back at Brant. “It sounds like what she would do.” He looked at Orion. “Who is with her?”
“Septimus, Stefan, Enid, a young maid, and Doctor Pryne.”
“Good enough. Any of that brandy left?”
Brant tried to relax as he stood waiting for Orion to get Argus some brandy. It was not easy to relax around a man like Argus, even if he was not already a mass of conflicting emotions concerning Olympia. When he finally got the courage to look at Argus, the man smiled, and Brant knew it was not a friendly expression. A man did not feel chills run up and down his spine when a man gave him a friendly smile.
“Just why was my sister involved in your troubles, m’lord?” Argus asked as Orion handed him his drink. “I do not recall that the two of you were particularly well acquainted.”
“We were not.” Brant was not surprised to see Argus’s eyes narrow but he would not retract the implications of that were. “My sister came here to find Ashton but found Olympia instead.” He carefully told the whole tale, ignoring how the room had gone silent as everyone listened even though he suspected a lot of them already knew much of what he was saying. Olympia had been sending messages out to her relatives concerning the matter from the beginning.
Once he was done, he took another careful sip of his brandy and waited for Argus to weigh every word he had just said. Brant knew the man would recognize the truth, but suspected Argus was looking through the whole for any hint that his sister had been unwillingly dragged into danger. When Argus quietly swore, Brant nearly smiled. The man knew his sister well enough to know that no one could force her to do anything she did not want to, just as no one could convince her to sit back and stay safe if she did not want to, either.
“That fool sister of mine should have just handed the mess over to you,” muttered Argus.
“She made a promise.”
That soft, female voice startled Brant as much as it did Argus and Brant turned to look at his sister. Agatha was a little pale and, to his disgust and anger, he could see the hint of bruising on her throat, but she was standing calmly with her hands folded in front of her skirts. She was also meeting that dark, intimidating gaze of Argus’s with no sign of fear.
“To you,” said Argus.
“Yes, to me. And to my maid when her brother was taken and to many another one, I believe. I know she would have helped me no matter what, but as it became clear that children were in peril, she was even more determined to do something. Anything.” Agatha shrugged, but there was a hint of tears in her eyes. “My mother was an evil that needed to be ended.”
Brant put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “She has been, Agatha. I am sorry. I should have come right to you and told you everything but . . .”
Agatha smiled. “I was not bleeding. I do understand, Brant. Pawl told me all that had happened for he felt the need to apologize for being the one who shot her. I think I have convinced him that I feel no animosity toward him for that and would never, ever try to make him pay for something that, I think, was long overdue.”
“True, I can sense that but something still troubles you, child,” said Orion.
It surprised Brant a little to see a flash of anger in his sister’s eyes when Orion called her a child, but then the trouble the man referred to darkened her eyes again. “Only what anyone would feel when she is made to face the fact that her mother was so evil. Worse, I am not sure she was actually insane, just thoroughly bad, without conscience. It is hard to be sensible and convince oneself that such bad blood is not running in your veins as well.”
“Do not worry about that,” said Argus. “Not all such illnesses carry on through the family. Trust us to know that.” He smiled when there was a ripple of laughter through the room. “Some people are just born with their conscience missing, m’lady. Some have it destroyed when they are a child or not even taught to use it. There are many reasons for a person to become what your mother was but I can say, without a doubt, that taint is not in you.” There was a murmur of agreement from the others.
“Thank you, that is a great comfort to me.” She looked at Brant. “How is Olympia?”
“I have not been allowed in to see her yet but no one here seems particularly worried so I shall find comfort in that,” Brant said and glanced at Argus, “as well as in what he said.”