Read Kissing Comfort for Free Online

to be seen, I can manage to distract the staff long enough for you to take the back stairs to your old bedroom. I’ll send Hitchens to you. He’ll see to your cuts and draw you a bath.”
    â€œSend Sam Travers. Hitchens will report to Alexandra straightaway.”
    It struck her oddly that he referred to his mother by her Christian name, but she didn’t comment. “All right.” She looked him over, gauging his ability to manage the staircase on his own. The narrowness of the passage would assist him, because he could brace himself on either side as he climbed. “Shall I tell Bram that you’ve arrived?”
    â€œNo.” He touched his swelling eye. “There will be no hiding this. Does any reasonable explanation come to mind?”
    â€œI’m afraid not.” Comfort wondered what it was about his brief, mocking smile that drew her attention away from his eye. “Bram is the one you should ask.”
    â€œYes, he is.” He fell silent for a moment. “No matter. Something will occur to me.”
    Regarding the whole of his battered face again, Comfort meant her smile to be encouraging, but she suspected it lacked confidence. She had never heard anything about Beauregard DeLong that led her to believe he had a facility for telling less than the bald truth. It made him feared. Indeed, all evidence to the contrary, now that he’d set his jaw tightly enough to make a muscle jump in his cheek, he was not a man who had been beaten. She did not think he had ever needed her help, or perhaps anyone’s.
    Disquieted by his steady, frank regard, Comfort felt her smile fading. For the second time in the course of the evening, she wished herself anywhere but where she was. Giving him the faintest of nods, she turned away to slip into the kitchen, where the activity remained loud and furious. She hadn’t taken a step when she felt Bode’s fingertips brush her elbow. She wanted to ignore him. Instead, she looked back.
    â€œDoes my brother know that you’re in love with him?”
    Of all the things he might have said, this question was easily the least expected. Comfort knew what it was to have the blood drain from her face, and she felt it again now. A chill crept under her skin, and beneath the smooth crown of her ebony hair, her scalp prickled.
    â€œYes,” she said. She spoke quickly, too quickly, and it made her wonder how he would interpret it. She swallowed, all but choking on the lie, and was unnaturally pleased that she could meet his gaze directly. On the heels of that hubris, she realized that it was truer that she couldn’t look away. She did what was left to her and made her features expressionless. “That is, I should hope so. He announced our engagement this evening.”
    Bode’s expression merely became thoughtful. “Did he?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen you have my con”—an infinitesimal pause—“gratulations.”
    Comfort felt certain he’d wanted to say con dolences . That tiny pause had been deliberate, pregnant with meaning, and she should have bristled in defense of Bram, or at least in defense of herself. What she did, though, was incline her head and accept his words at face value. “Thank you.”
    â€œThat remains to be seen.”
    Comfort’s nostrils flared slightly, but she made no reply.
    â€œI saw you,” he said simply. “On the portico. I told you that.”
    Comfort understood then that she had no better evidence that Bode hadn’t overheard any part of her conversation with his brother. His eyes told him a story his ears wouldn’t have.
    â€œI saw both of you.”
    Now Comfort had his full meaning. “I’ve been told to expect more directness from you, Mr. DeLong. Say it. Say all of it.”
    â€œBram doesn’t love you, Miss Kennedy.”
    Having it put before her so bluntly, even though she’d demanded that he do so, still had