The Suffragette Scandal (Brothers Sinister #4)

“I’m a gentleman,” he said stiffly. “Of course I will.”


“You think that we should provide you with enough money so that you can continue to hurt others.” She snorted. “That seems unwise. You were a horrible plague before. Why on earth should we give you the opportunity to go on like that?”

“I…because…” James trailed off. He looked as bewildered as if he’d walked up to a house and had the doors remain stubbornly closed. “Because,” he repeated, “I’m a gentleman. Because it would be scandalous to do otherwise.” His teeth ground. “Because my own funds will run out in a few years’ time. Think what having a destitute brother-in-law would mean for our family reputation. I don’t think I need to discuss anything else in mixed company. Even if the company in question is hardly ladylike.”

Free simply shrugged off that insult. “I told you once that everything you tried to do to me, I’d bring back to you a thousandfold. Now, maybe you’ll believe me.”

James stared at her, his teeth grinding, his face turning red. Then he turned away, jerking his head toward Edward. “You need to control your wife.”

“Haven’t you figured it out?” Edward said quietly. “I married her to unleash her on the world, not to keep her under wraps.”

James blinked, as if trying to understand that.

“I married her because she made me believe in her,” Edward said. “Because I wished her beyond your power, not under mine. You have no idea of the debt I owe her. For her I’d do the unthinkable.”

He glanced back at Free.

“If she asked me to do it,” he told James, “I’d even forgive you.”

He let that settle in, let his brother understand it. He watched as James turned to Free, his jaw working. He wondered if James would find the words to beg, or if, as he’d done with the door, he’d be brought up confused and short.

He never would find out.

“Don’t bother,” Free told his brother. “Whatever you have to say, I’ll not be moved. You’re young. You’ve a good education and several years of funds. It’s never too late to learn a trade.”

James let out an inarticulate cry of rage. “A trade!”

“A trade.” Edward found himself smiling. “It’s what most men do. Try it sometime; it might agree with you.”

James’s hands balled into fists. “You’ll regret this. You shall truly regret this. There will be a scandal, I tell you.”

Free came forward. “Yes,” she said simply. “We are going to make the most massive scandal. We’re good at scandals, you see. And if you think that what has happened to you will be the extent of that scandal, think again. You are going to be the smallest, the most forgettable, part of what we do.”

Her fingers crept into Edward’s hand, and he grasped hold of her. She felt real and solid. She felt as if she’d come to his side not just for the moment, but…for good. Forever.

She drew up her chin. “Now get out of our house,” she said.

And James left.

THE DOOR CLOSED BEHIND Edward’s brother.

Free stared after him, hearing her own words echoing in her mind. Get out of our house. She’d just accepted all of this.

“Free.” Edward’s hand clenched in hers. He turned to her, slid his other arm around her waist. “Are you all right?”

That was when she realized she was shaking. “Yes. I—it’s just—”

“I know,” Edward said. “It’s just.”

Free took a deep breath and looked around the blue parlor. She still didn’t fit. She didn’t know how to take on this role.

“Ah,” Edward said. He smiled at her—that smile that she’d learned to read as vulnerability rather than wickedness. “When I said we, of course, I didn’t mean to imply—”

She took hold of his shoulders. He stopped midsentence and then shook his head.

“I meant,” he whispered, “me—and—if you should decide—”

“Oh, you idiot,” Free said. “You’re the only one who would make all this worthwhile.”

And then she did what she’d been wanting to do since she first saw him at her parents’ house: She kissed him. Not lightly. Her hands dug into his coat, her fingers tangling in the fabric, and she pushed up to him. His mouth met hers.

“Free,” he groaned. “God.”

They would make it work. Somehow.

“I have to believe this,” she told him. “I have to believe that with the jokes about thimbles—the way we have been able to weather every crisis that has come our way together…” She took another kiss from him. “I have to believe that with all of that, that we can figure this out, too. I don’t know how yet. But if you believe in us, then I will, too.”

His thumb traced down her throat, a sensual line. “I love you. How could I not believe in you? But—”