Seeing Danger (Sinclair and Raven #2)(37)

The song finished, and she slipped into a curtsey and left Dev reeling on the dance floor. She had just slit open a vein in his heart and allowed him to bleed a little before resealing it and walking away.

“Damn,” Dev whispered. It had to be love.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


“Smear the jam on your toast and not me, brat.”

“I want to go there.”

Dev looked to where the jam-coated finger pointed, read the small advertisement, and wondered if there was any way he could get out of it.

“Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors,” the youngest Sinclair sibling, Warwickshire, declared. Lounging half on his chair and half on Dev's lap, he eagerly scanned the advertisement in the morning paper.

“You'll squeal like a babe and have nightmares for weeks,” Cambridge said from across the table, where the twins were busy retying his necktie while he ate.

“Won't!”

Dev looked around him. They were all present, except Eden and their aunt and uncle. The room was full of laughter and teasing, and he would have it no other way.

“I want a Roman god starting with the letter P.” Dev shot Essie and Cam a look. They might be able to throw the young ones off the scent of visiting Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors if they played a few word games.

“Poseidon, and that was too easy.”

“Forgive me, Dorrie, I was just warming you up.”

“Try harder,” Somer said, her eyes alight with excitement. Unlike other children, his little siblings enjoyed learning, and the harder the challenge, the better. It was due to their heightened senses; for some reason, this increased their learning capacity.

All the Sinclairs spoke multiple languages, as their mother had loved learning them, and read ferociously.

“Who was honored in the temples known as Capitolia?”

That shut them up. Dorrie, Somer, and Warwick all leaned in and he heard whispering, until Warwick was elected speaker.

“Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.”

“In Italian, if you please.”

Dev laughed as Warwick spoke in his most pompous tone.

“What herb is most commonly used to aid digestion?” Essie asked.

“The Egyptians said coriander had digestive properties,” Somer said. “But you can use chickweed.” She then looked at Dev. “And we still want to go to Dr. Engle’s House of Ghoulish Horrors, so no matter how much you try to dissuade us, it will not work.”

“I won't squeal either, Cambridge,” Somer said.

“Neither will I,” Dorrie added.

“Of course you wouldn't, my darlings,” Cam said, planting loud kisses on their cheeks.

“How about the park?” Dev said, wiping his brother's fingers with a cloth he had dipped into his water glass. Of course he would never have done that if his aunt had been in the room.

“No!”

“Museum?” Cam supplied. He was now wearing his necktie in a bow around his head.

“No!” all three of the little Sinclairs squealed.

He should have had breakfast at his own lodgings, and then this conversation would never have eventuated. The problem was, when he was alone his thoughts went to Lilly, and his body would grow tight and he wanted her with a fury that scared him witless. She was a fever in his blood, an obsession that Dev feared would only strengthen the more he saw her. He had woken numerous times during the past few nights with the feel of her lips on his and the touch of her hand on his face.

Then there was this business of her being affected when she touched other people. Not him; she had loved that. Dev shouldn't feel so good that he was the only one she could place her hands on, but he did, selfish bastard that he was. If his hunch was correct, she would soon be in for a shock when he explained what he believed the reasons behind her sensitive hands were, but that was for another day.

“Gunter’s?” he said quickly. That got them, Dev thought, as silence reigned around the table. They loved ices.

“No!” they cried in unison.

“I yield,” he muttered, raising his hands in the air. “But Cam and Essie will take you and I will meet you there. I have some business to see to for Uncle first.”

Everyone agreed, and Dev was immediately covered in kisses from his little sisters and a fierce hug from Warwick. Minutes later, smiling, he left the house.

The drive through London was slow, as horses, carriages, and carts jockeyed for position, but finally he arrived at the docks. Dev stepped down from his carriage and inhaled. He loved this place; he felt alive surrounded by the bustle, noise, and salt air. Having grown up near the sea, the smell was so familiar to him and made him long for Oak’s Knoll, his family's home.

Closing his eyes briefly, he reopened them when he was steadier. Looking at the scene before him was almost too much, an assault on the eyes, especially his eyes, as his vision allowed him to see more than most.

Ships rocked from side to side, their wooden hulls creaking and groaning. Masts waved, rigging jangled, and when they were quiet, the sound of men yelling filled the silence. Walking to where one of his uncle's ships bobbed gently on its moorings, he signaled his intention to board.

Dev had only really known the Earl of Wynburg, his uncle, since arriving in London. Previous attempts from their aunt and uncle to make contact with the Sinclair siblings had been rebuffed by their father. This had changed upon his death.