The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(75)

The subheading read: Promises to be Explosive and Controversial.

“Ah,” Sebastian said. “Aha, ha. Right. That. I see how that looks.”

“Right?” Benedict repeated in disbelief. “That?”

“It’s…” He leaned in. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked hopefully.

“A potentially explosive and controversial secret?” Benedict said dryly. “Maybe. That depends. What kind of secret is it?”

Violet had told her sister. Everyone would know by evening two days from now. And his brother deserved to hear it directly from him. Sebastian let out a breath.

“My work on inheritance.” He swallowed. “You were right. I’m a fraud.”

Benedict’s eyebrows lowered. “What? What on earth are you saying?”

“Do you remember Violet Rotherham? Now Violet Waterfield, the Countess of Cambury?”

“I could hardly forget her,” Benedict said. “Considering she lived half a mile from us when we were younger. But I don’t see how she is relevant.”

“The work isn’t mine,” Sebastian said. “It’s hers. And in a few days, we’re announcing it. So, you see, this isn’t going to be a presentation by me. It’s going to be one by her.”

Benedict sat back in his chair and blew out a breath. “No. I don’t understand.”

“Everything I’ve presented? It’s all been Violet’s ideas,” Sebastian said. “I helped a little. We worked together on some of it. But she’s the brilliant scientist. Not me.”

His brother rubbed his forehead, and his mouth flattened. “Everything really does land in your lap.”

“No, no. It’s actually been a lot of work to keep up,” Sebastian said. “I had to learn everything the way she knew it, and…ah…”

“It lands in your lap,” Benedict repeated. “My God. You don’t even try. You really don’t. It’s like angels come down and anoint you with scientific knowledge, except it’s not angels, it’s Violet.”

“Yes. She’s really clever, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. Nobody knew but you.” Benedict stood. “How do you do that? Honestly, Sebastian—how do you do it? I knew you were a complete fraud, but this is beyond even my ability to comprehend. It’s like the entire universe is conspiring to let you cheat at life.”

“No,” Sebastian said, “I’ve just always really liked Violet, you know. I’ve always known she was marvelous, even if no one else seemed to notice.”

Benedict ignored this. “It’s as if God himself were stuffing aces up your sleeve. How do you get something like that to just fall from the sky for you?”

“I don’t know!” Sebastian said. “Maybe it’s just because people like me.”

His brother folded his arms over his chest and glared at him. “Oh, you’re going to throw that in my face, are you? I’ll have you know people like me, too. Plenty of people. I have friends—many friends.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sebastian said in puzzlement.

“I have friends, and yet somehow, I have never received credit for one of the greatest scientific advances of our time.”

Sebastian stared at his brother. He’d vowed not to argue, but that was too much. “When you thought it was mine, it was nothing to speak of. But now that I didn’t do it, it’s one of the greatest scientific advances of our time?”

Benedict stared at him—stared ruthlessly and silently, stared until Sebastian wanted to look away. Then he slammed his fist on the table. “Fuck.” He sat back in his chair, a pained look on his face. “Oh, f**k.”

“And now it’s worthy of profanity,” Sebastian said. “Nothing I have ever said until this point has provoked you to use foul language, but that, apparently, will push you over the edge.”

“No,” Benedict grated out. “Listen to me, Sebastian. I need you to do me a favor.” His breath was growing ragged.

“What?” Sebastian snapped.

“You know how I said that if I couldn’t yell at my brother, there was no point in living?” A light sheen of sweat popped out on Benedict’s face; his skin grew waxy and pale, his breaths becoming short and shallow.

A cold chill settled over Sebastian.

“Well,” Benedict said grimly, “I was wrong. I would rather live.” He looked over at Sebastian. “Get that doctor. Please.”

SEBASTIAN WAITED IN THE HALL FOR HOURS, pacing until he knew every squeaking floorboard by heart. His hands were cold, his heart heavy. When the doctor finally left the room, Sebastian accosted him.

“How is he?”

The man gave Sebastian a brief look. “He’s alive,” he said. “He’s conscious.”

“Thank God.” Sebastian let out a breath of relief.

“He wants to see his son.”

“Of course. Of course.” Sebastian nodded. “I’ll make sure Harry’s brought up immediately.”

The doctor glanced at him. “You’re his brother? Sebastian Malheur?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t take this personally,” the doctor said. “But I advised him that he needs to rest for a little while. To avoid anything that will upset him.”