“Grrrrrrrraaaaach.”
Maggie cocked her head to one side and furrowed her brow. Whatwasthat noise?
“Grrrrraaach.”
She opened her eyes. “Raph!”
Her eldest brother stretched out on her bed, feet hanging off the end, one arm trailing off the side, snoring. “Grrrrrrraaaaaaaach.”
“Raph! Wake up!”
He sat upright immediately, eyes wide, head swiveling every direction. “What? Where am I?” He caught sight of Maggie and blinked his eyes clear. Understanding dawned in their intelligent depths like the clear morning of an execution.
Curse Mr. Blake and his gallows humor.
Raph rubbed one large fist into one sleepy eye. “Ah, yes. You.” He stood and creaked his neck to one side—pop!—and the other—pop! His eyes thinned into narrow slits. “And Mr. Blake. Would you like to explain why, upon return from the village, your name and his were the only two on anyone’s lips?”
“Ah, yes. Hello, Raph. Welcome to my bedroom. I’m glad to see you’ve made good use of the bed. And I think it’s rather talented of you to be able to hold onto a fury and fall into a peaceful sleep simultaneously. Oh, do you know you snore?”
“Do not. Had a long night. Desist distracting me, sister.” He strode across the room until he loomed over her. She looked more like Raph than any of her other siblings who took more after their mother, with their auburn hair and green eyes. Maggie and Raph were both darker, like their father. Unlike Maggie, Raph had also inherited their father’s height. There the similarities ended. Raph was not lean and willowy. He was large, muscled, and imposing. His hair hung to his shoulders and he rarely shaved.
Maggie poked him in the middle of his chest. When he didn’t budge, she pushed him away with the flat of her hand, putting her whole body into it. “Don’t loom, you bear. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll explain everything, just as I did for Mother and Father.”
Raph took a seat by the fire and groaned. “Mother and Father. What have they said?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know, the usual. Mother talked about her dreams and Father abdicated all decision making to Mother’s dreams and to fate before leaving to check on Mr. Lockham’s painting.”
“He was supposed to unveil it today, wasn’t he? I forgot. Thank God I missed it. He’s a pompous ass.”
“Exactly. And if I have to look at one more painting of a cow—”
Raph’s face crinkled up. “Cows? Again?!”
“Yes!”
“Ugh.”
Maggie nodded. “Precisely, which is why I determined to leave the unveiling.”
“That I understand. What still eludes me is how you ended up in Mr. Blake’s bedroom. Compromised.”
Maggie’s hands clenched and her toes tapped the floor. She couldn’t tell him. He would not approve. After all, who approved of blackmail? “I did not planthat.”Thathad been most unfortunate, especially since she’d managed to ruin Mr. Blake as well as herself. She squirmed. It was one thing to ruin oneself, but quite another to bring someone else down with her.
Raph frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I don’t know Mr. Blake. Didn’t know there was a Mr. Blake here until this afternoon.”
“It is his first year attending. His sister is a brilliant dressmaker, and his father owns Blake Textiles.” In other words, their pockets were deep enough to handle a little light blackmail.
His eyes brightened. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard of that. Quality stuff.”
“Mmm. I thought Mr. Blake was here as a patron of the arts.” Instead, he’d been here as an artist. Disappointing, that. “His sister came because, I assume, she’s courting the pocketbooks of people who will appreciateherart. She’s quite nice. I’ve spoken with her on occasion.”
“Pretty?”
“Married.”
“Shame.”
“You don’t even know if she’s pretty.”
