The Suffragette Scandal (Brothers Sinister #4)(45)

He looked…so innocent. Stephen was good at looking innocent; a necessary skill for a man who had a dreadfully mischievous sense of humor. Most of the time, his humor served her. But now…

“Do you have some passing prior acquaintance with Mr. Clark?”

He glanced behind him, toward the front door where the man had disappeared. “No,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t have a passing acquaintance with him. Why do you ask?”

“Just a thought.” And yet now that it had occurred to her, she realized it made a strange sense of things. The first time she’d met Mr. Clark, he’d asked her about Stephen. They’d formed their partnership when Delacey had put Stephen in imminent danger of arrest.

It could have been a coincidence.

“You know how terrible I am at recalling names and faces.” He spread his hands before him. “I could have met him a thousand times and not recognized him.”

Both Stephen and Mr. Clark had dealt with James Delacey in the past. And Stephen had suggested that Mr. Clark ask about Free’s father—and while she’d assumed that Stephen had been twitting her about blushing on Mr. Clark’s arrival, it would also have fit if he knew Mr. Clark idolized the man, and was teasing him about it.

“Are you absolutely certain?” she asked.

Stephen shrugged. “I’m never certain about something like this. But it wouldn’t make any sense. How would I have met him? How old would you say he is?”

“Maybe the tail end of his thirties?” It was impossible to guess, really. That white in his hair, she suspected, was deceptive. He didn’t act like an older man.

She’d felt him lift her, too—and he’d seemed young enough then.

“There you are,” Stephen said. “The only men I know who are above thirty-five are friends of my father and tutors at school. And while I know very little about Mr. Clark, I don’t think he’s a tutor.”

“Right.” She sighed. “Well, let me see your column again, and we’ll see if it’s up to snuff.”

EDWARD WAITED HALFWAY DOWN the path to the university, pacing up and down. It took Stephen twenty minutes to appear. He had his hands in his pockets and he was whistling some complicated ditty.

He caught sight of Edward as he drew nearer. But instead of frowning or jumping in surprise, Stephen gave him a brilliant smile. “Edward,” he called out. “Good to see you. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

That little… Edward shook his head in mock anger. Stephen had known it was him the entire time, and he’d given scarcely a hint.

“Delacey, eh?” Stephen came up to him. “You’re taking on James Delacey?”

Edward huffed. “Shut up, clod.” And then, because that seemed unduly harsh, he reached over, removed Stephen’s hat, and ground his knuckles in Stephen’s hair. Or at least he tried to. The angle was no longer quite so convenient; he scarcely managed to apply his knuckles to his head.

Stephen simply looked over at him with raised eyebrows. “Unimpressive, Edward. That doesn’t work so well when I’m no longer waist-high.”

“Why didn’t you say anything back there, if you knew?”

“Huh.” Stephen rolled his eyes. “Look at me. I’m just a nobody, with neither sense nor discretion. Why would I keep my mouth shut? It’s not as if my brother corresponds regularly with a man named Clark, a man I’ve never heard of and who he refuses to answer questions about. But, no, there’s nothing suspicious about that.”

Edward glared at him.

“I was certainly not suspicious when I heard there was a mysterious Mr. Edward Clark hanging about the press. Said Clark appeared just in time to foil a plot to have me tossed out of school, if not worse. But do I know an Edward Clark? No, of course I don’t. I only know an Edward Delacey. That’s the man who saved my life when I jumped out of a tree into sucking mud.”

Edward frowned. “No, I didn’t. That was Patrick.”

“I would remember. It was definitely you.”

“It wasn’t.”

“In any event, if my brother says that Edward Delacey is dead, who am I to contradict him?” Stephen rolled his eyes. “Really, Edward, after all these years, do you have to ask where my loyalties lie?”

Edward didn’t even believe in loyalty any longer. “You haven’t seen me in God knows how long.”

Stephen shrugged. “Yes, and while we’re at it, thanks for paying my school fees.”

Edward put his hands on his hips. “How the devil did you know about that? Did Patrick tell you? I’d thought more of his discretion than that.”

“No, but it was either you or Baron Lowery, and Patrick is very insistent on not accepting presents from Lowery.” Stephen shrugged. “I’m glad you’re alive. Even without that.”

When Edward had appeared to James, James had said almost exactly the opposite. It made Edward feel almost sentimental.

Instead of showing it, he simply raised an eyebrow. “You’re glad I’m alive? Imagine how I must feel.”

Stephen laughed. “Miss Marshall asked if I knew you.”

Edward stiffened. “And you said?”

“Do you remember that game we used to play, the one that annoyed Patrick? Where he’d ask questions, and we’d do our best to tell him falsehoods without actually uttering an untruth?”