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they caught him by surprise. He released her chin and
leaned back in his chair. Shannah blinked furiously, and Brendan
watched a lone tear escape and roll silently down her smooth cheek.
His hand itched to brush it away, but he withstood the urge.
    “I need to know, Shannah,” he said at last.
“And my brother deserves the truth.”
    Shannah bit her lip and shook her head, but
wouldn’t look at him.
    Brendan sighed, unsure how to proceed. Surely
she knew that her lies wouldn’t hold against the obvious truth. Why
did she cling so desperately to her falsehoods?
    He put the question to her, but Shannah just
shook her head more furiously and swiped at fresh tears on her
cheeks.
    He tried to pull away mentally and look at
the situation with clearer eyes. He knew his certainty that Chris
had fathered a child clouded his judgment. So did his as yet
undefined feelings for the girl sitting before him.
    The door of his study burst open and his
mother entered, or rather swept dramatically into the room. Her
black silk gown rustled with every step and the oversized plume on
her golden turban drooped behind one ear. When he turned to look at
her, she smiled and spread her arms wide, erasing a look he
couldn’t quite identify. Concern? Fear?
    “Why, Brendan, I’m surprised at you. How
utterly inappropriate for you to close yourself in here with this
child,” she said. She put a hand on Shannah’s chair, barely sparing
her a glance.
    Brendan’s eyes sought Shannah’s face, but
what he saw there worried him. She looked up at him in stark terror
and he had no idea why.
    “Mother, please, I’m conducting an interview
at the moment,” he told her.
    Elspeth Wyndham laughed at him. “Why ever
for? Household servants are Mrs. Scrab’s responsibility, and her
duty is to report to me since I’m still mistress of this
house.”
    Brendan didn’t feel the need to argue the
point with her. Technically, she was correct, but his mother had
always been more concerned about the latest fashions than how the
household ran. He didn’t want to explain to her that the weekly
“reports” Millie gave her mistress were only a fraction of what was
actually going on in their household. He handled the bulk of it, as
had his father.
    Instead he thought it best to get rid of her
quickly so he could focus again on Shannah. “What is it that you
need, Mother?”
    “I’m in crisis, truly,” she said, putting a
hand to her forehead. “I just received word that the beaded
headdress I’d commissioned to wear at my birthday banquet won’t be
ready in time! You must write to the jeweler this instant. I have
to have that headdress. All of my friends will be expecting
it!”
    Brendan didn’t immediately reply. This was
her idea of a crisis? He’d just found out about Royce the night
before, Shannah had nearly been abducted by pirates, yet his mother
fretted over a headdress?
    He stopped himself from making a cutting
remark and remembered there was much going on his mother knew
nothing about. Had his father done this as well, kept the grittier
facts of life from her? In truth, Brendan has almost forgotten
about the banquet and subsequent celebration in the light of his
new discoveries.
    Before he formed a reply there was a knock at
the open door. He looked past his mother to Mrs. Scrab, holding a
tea tray and waiting expectantly.
    His mother looked over her shoulder. “Ah,
excellent timing, Mrs. Scrab. Please take this child to the kitchen
and see to her needs. My son has no time for such nonsense.”
    Millie’s brow furrowed. “But, my lady . . .
“
    His mother raised an imperious eyebrow, a
skill she had perfected over the years.
    Millie bowed her head. “Yes, my lady. Come
Shannah.”
    “Do leave the tea, please,” Elspeth
commanded. “I feel peaky.”
    Millie hurried to the table and set down the
tray, then took Shannah’s hand and led her from the room. Brendan
watched his jacket fall from Shannah’s shoulders with some regret.
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