A Passion for Pleasure(24)

So was Sebastian. He thought he’d want Alexander’s vast house to himself, but the bloody place was so magnificent, replete with plush furniture, velvet curtains, priceless paintings, that Sebastian felt like a blemish marring an expanse of flawless skin. And nothing here was his; these quarters were fit for royalty.

He grabbed the letter and broke open the seal. Bits of wax fell to his lap as he opened the page and read the short message:

Dear Mr. Hall,

I would like to request your presence at Blake’s Museum of Automata at three o’clock Thursday afternoon. There is a matter of some urgency I wish to discuss.



Yours truly,

Mrs. Clara Winter

A matter of some urgency…?

Could she have found the plans already? Was today Thursday?

He shook his head to clear his mind. Yes. He’d told Clara yesterday about the plans, so there was certainly time for her to have found them. But if she had, he knew a woman as clever as Clara would not relinquish them without expecting something in return. He suspected he would find out at three o’clock exactly what that something was.

Sebastian shoved away from the chair and went upstairs. He rang for a bath, then washed and dressed in a fawn-colored morning coat and silk cravat. As he headed back down for breakfast, the doorbell rang.

Waving the footman away, Sebastian went to answer it. A dark-haired man stood outside, his eyes keenly intelligent behind wire-rimmed glasses, his woolen greatcoat buttoned up to his neck.

Sebastian stared in astonishment at his brother Darius.

“Hello, Bastian.” Faint amusement crackled across Darius’s expression. “Are you going to invite me in or leave me standing here?”

Any other time, Sebastian would have greeted his brother with an embrace. Now, as he remembered the pain of recent months, followed by Darius’s implacable certainty that Sebastian would do as he requested—which proved to be the truth, owing to his new infirmity—anger bubbled into his throat.

“What are you doing here?”

“I arrived two days ago,” Darius said, his voice the cool blue of a lake undisturbed by waves. “I think it’s best if Rushton doesn’t yet know I’m here, so I’m staying at the Albion for the time being.”

Darius shed his greatcoat, then moved past Sebastian into the drawing room. With no other choice, Sebastian stalked after his brother.

“What are you doing here?” he repeated, closing the door behind them.

“I thought you’d have found the cipher machine plans by now.”

Sebastian twisted his neck to the side, tempted to tell Darius exactly what he could do with his blasted plans. “No.”

Darius’s penetrating gaze raked over him. Sebastian fought the urge to shift with discomfort, knowing well the assessments and conclusions locking together in his brother’s analytical mind.

To deflect that assessment, he asked, “Have you heard from Nicholas of late?”

Darius’s mouth compressed as he gave a quick shake of his head. “Alexander is well, though. Besotted with his wife and greatly anticipating the birth of his child. Talia laughs every time she imagines what he’ll be like when the babe is born.”

Sebastian almost smiled at the thought, which eased some of his anger. No father would be as fiercely protective and devoted as Alexander. Again Sebastian was glad he hadn’t surrendered to his desperation and asked his elder brother for financial assistance.

Alexander would have helped him in any way he could, but not without demanding a full explanation of Sebastian’s troubles. And the last thing Sebastian wanted was to cast a shadow over his brother’s newfound happiness by revealing his medical obligations and the reasons behind the end of his career.

Alexander was happy. For that, at least, Sebastian was deeply grateful.

“How is Jane?” he asked.

“Delightful girl,” Darius said. “Excited beyond measure at the idea of being an older sister. You’ll be glad to know she’s taken up piano lessons again, though she still prefers to spend her time with insects.”

“I’d expect no less of her.” Sebastian was pleased at the news of his family. While at Weimar, he had planned a trip to St. Petersburg to visit them himself, but had canceled shortly after discovering the problem with his hand. He’d never be able to hide such a disability from Alexander.

He studied his younger brother. “Why don’t you want Rushton to know you’re here?”