Everyone was sitting very still in their chairs, as if afraid to voice whatever thought was in their head. It was Michael who finally gathered the courage to ask. “Did William ever . . . That is to say . . . were you romantically involved?”
I frowned. “Of course not.” The forcefulness of my response seemed to relieve him. “Will was nearly fifteen years my senior, and I was not of age. He would never have acted in such an inappropriate manner.” Not that my fifteen-year-old self had not contemplated it. At the age of thirty, William Dalmay had been very handsome, in a dark, brooding sort of way. And there had been something in his eyes, something in the premature lines etched at their corners that called to a rather lonely and melancholy girl in a way that charming urbanities never could have. I could admit to myself now that I had been rather infatuated with Will. But I couldn’t imagine what impressionable young girl wouldn’t have been.
“When did he become your drawing master?” Laura asked in curiosity.
I tried to think back. “Let’s see. It would have been about April of 1820. Father had been having a difficult time finding someone to replace Signor Riotta after he quit, and Will stepped into the gap.” I didn’t need to mention that the position of drawing master to a young lady in the far reaches of Northumberland was not exactly a sought-after position. And the fact that I was talented only seemed to make matters worse. I had learned at a very young age that men did not want to be outshined by women, especially girls who had yet to reach their majority.
“You won’t remember it,” I told Laura, “because you had already moved here to Dalmay House with your father upon its completion. And Michael was away in London.” I nodded to him before turning to indicate my sister. “Our brother Trevor was at Cambridge and Alana was in our aunt’s care for her first season in London. So it was only Father and I rambling around Blakelaw House.” I glanced at Philip. “You were in London, as well, I believe. Resisting Alana’s charms.”
A light blush heated his cheeks, which amused me.
“It was another year until you finally took notice of her, though it took her near engagement to Lord Felding to do it.” I suppressed a smile when Philip frowned in irritation. It was a common jest between him and my sister, who had been in love with him from the tender age of twelve. That it had taken her ignoring him to finally gain his favor had provided no small amount of banter in their household.
“I was shocked to discover you had turned into such a respectable gentleman,” Gage said, joining in the good-natured teasing. “That always seemed to be more of Michael’s purview. But you surprised us by being the first to fall into the parson’s mousetrap.”
“Well, you could hardly expect us all to have remained the same when you returned from Greece,” Philip pointed out.
Greece? Gage had gone to Greece?
My gaze turned to the man in question, who did not miss my sudden interest.
“True,” he answered guardedly.
I opened my mouth to question him further, when Lady Hollingsworth, who had been sitting quietly through Philip’s questioning, spoke up. “What does any of this have to do with the matter at hand?” She pinned Michael with a look. “No matter your protestations, the truth is your brother is . . . damaged.” That she had searched for and used such a diplomatic word told me just how much our conversation had engaged her sympathy. “If not before he was locked away, then certainly after. You cannot expect us to stay under the same roof with such a man.”
“He is not dangerous to any of you,” Michael insisted. “And he has made a great deal of progress in the nine months since his release. In fact, he was supposed to join us for dinner tonight, except . . . he had a small relapse.”
Lady Hollingsworth gasped.
“It is nothing to be alarmed about. And in any case, every precaution has been made for our safety should for some reason he turn violent. He’s being housed on the floor above our bedchambers far from anyone else.”
“What of the children?” the marchioness demanded, gesturing to Alana, who stiffened. “Your own nephew? Are they not in the nursery on the same floor?”
I squeezed my sister’s hand and scowled at Lady Hollingsworth. While perhaps a legitimate concern, she needn’t have voiced it in such a way. Alarming my already overtaxed sister did not help matters.
“The children are as far away from William as we are, with many doors locked between them.”
Lord Damien narrowed his eyes. “Then you do admit you fear for their safety. If you’ve taken such precautions, you cannot be as certain of your brother’s inability to do harm as you protest.”
Gage shifted in his stance, drawing my attention. There was a tightening in the muscles of his face, a sharpening of his eyes that I knew signaled intense interest.
“I . . . I do not believe William would hurt anyone,” Michael stammered. “At least, not on purpose. But if he were confused . . . I simply thought it best to ensure our guests’ comfort and his.”