Whispers from the Shadows (The Culper Ring #2)

Growling, he shoved his hands into his hair and gripped it, but that did nothing to relieve the pressure building in his head. “Why is it that every man, woman, and child from Florida to Canada trusts me except for you?”


Arnaud had drawn closer again and reached out again to push him. “Why is it that you think you are the only one who can ever know what is right, ever do it right?”

“Because you cannot even figure out why you are angry! Is it over Gwyneth or Peggy? Because I married your wife or because I didn’t love her?” He returned the push, though Arnaud leaned into it and tried to reach his shoulders.

“Boys!”

There had been a day when that tone from his father would have stopped them both cold. And it had, on many occasions, brought an end to a scuffle much like this one. Not today.

Father huffed. “This way of solving your differences may have been understandable when you were ten, but now? How old are you?”

Arnaud rolled his eyes. Only, Thad was sure, because his back was to Father. “Younger, I believe, than you were when your brother last visited, though I recall seeing you with your arm locked around his head.”

Father’s lips twitched. “Entirely different. Archie and I were not fighting. ’Twas all in good fun.”

Arnaud changed his position, and they both staggered to the right. Thad smiled. “I daresay that for this to be termed fighting, we would have to be trying to hurt each other.”

They staggered back to the left.

“Hmm.” Father leaned into the wall. “You do have a point. But you scared Gwyneth away.”

“What?” Thad straightened and absently steadied his friend. Of course he had known Gwyneth left the room. But he had assumed…what? She was outside in the hall? Waiting to wrap her arms around him when he emerged? “Where did she go?”

“Up to her room, behind the locked door.” Father jerked his head upward in illustration. “Your mother followed her up to make excuses for you—”

“Excuses?”

Father leveled a glare on him. “You ought to have explained the situation well before now, Thaddeus, if you have fallen in love with her. In any case, I was sent in here to try to intervene. As if I were going to come between those flailing limbs.”

“See?” Arnaud pulled his waistcoat back into place and turned to face Father. “He is moving too fast and not taking the time for leisurely conversations that allow them to share all this necessary information.”

Father tilted his head to the side. “He may have a point, son.”

Thad lifted a hand in exasperation. “She may have only been here two months, but I have seen her each and every day. And I know this—I know I love her.” Seeing the shaking of Arnaud’s head, he moved that extended hand toward his sire. “Father, how long had you known Mother before you realized you had fallen in love?”

Father’s head moved to the other side. “He does have a point, Alain. I had scarcely even seen her in the two and a half months I had known her, but there was no question where my heart had inclined.”

Arnaud folded his arms across his chest. “And then you courted her another nine months before you proposed. Because you had to be sure you really understood each other before you made any commitments.”

“And that point is Alain’s.”

“How is that one his? I kissed her. I did not call the reverend to marry us here and now.”

Father opened his mouth, but Arnaud pivoted to Thad again, outrage in his eyes. “She is living here! Do you think it wise to go around kissing her if you do not intend to marry her quickly?”

Father’s sigh sounded as blustery as an October day. “I am certain Thad is aware of the delicate balance he must strike.”

Arnaud’s aristocratic nose went into the air, which gave Thad a sudden understanding of why the peasants in France had hauled all the aristocracy to the guillotine. “I am none too sure. Tell me, sir, what would have happened with you and your wife, do you think, had you not taken the time to properly court?”

“Ah.” Father’s eyes lit, and he lifted a finger into the air. “I have given it thought. I daresay that had we—”

“Alain.” Thad slapped his friend’s arm. “Asking him to expound on a hypothetical? What were you thinking?”

Arnaud snorted. “My mistake. I apologize.”

“Insufferable pups. Though I suppose I should be glad you can agree on something.” Father pushed off from the wall and took a few steps into the room. He measured Thad with his probing gaze and then turned it on Arnaud. “You cannot know how it has pained us to watch the two of you lately. Always you had been like brothers, even before we took you in, Alain.”

Arnaud’s nose moved back down, past its normal angle and into a humble one. “You know I am grateful for all you did for me. Sending me to school, funding my ventures—”

“I am not asking for thanks.” Father drew in a deep breath, his regard making Thad want to wriggle like a recalcitrant schoolboy. “I know how it must have hurt when you returned and discovered what had happened while you were gone. But we all thought you dead, every one of us.”