Wizard's Daughter (Sherbrooke Brides 10)

Grayson nodded. "That is so often the case with people I have met. You must be very pleased to see your brother again after so long an absence."

"Half brother," Lancelot said.

An awkward silence filled the box. The air thrummed with animosity, but ingrained civility won out, that and the presence of Ryder and Sophie Sherbrooke. Richard nodded. "Oh, yes, to see Nicholas again must please us greatly, even though he is only our half brother, as Lance just said."

Grayson looked surprised at that. "What does it matter? A brother is a brother, don't you find that true?"

Finally, after a moment, Richard nodded. "As you say, Mr. Sherbrooke."

Ryder wasn't blind. It was clear that Rosalind had fallen hard for Nicholas Vail, and he knew next to nothing about him, and now here were two half brothers who would very much like to shoot the man dead. All the rumors Ryder had heard were obviously true.

And now his Rosalind was in love with this stranger, and he knew she'd made her decision. She'd only just met him. Ryder sighed. Well, how long did it take to fall in love? He would make inquiries immediately, starting with this hatred his half brothers had for Nicholas and focusing on any pos­sible danger to Rosalind. He looked at Nicholas, who looked calm and somewhat ironic, his natural arrogance heightened, Ryder thought, because his two half brothers held him in such dislike.

Ryder wished he could leave London tonight and whisk Rosalind back to the Cotswolds, where she'd be safe from this young man and his mysterious past, this man who kept secrets as well as Ryder's own father had.

There was also the case of Rosalind's background. Had she mentioned anything to Nicholas as of yet? What would happen when she did?

He heard Lorelei laugh. Should he have Sophie drop a hint in the girl's ear that it wasn't wise for her to worship Grayson so blatantly? On the other hand, Grayson looked like he wa

s quite enjoying himself so maybe the young lady knew exactly what she was doing. So many swirling under­currents. Thank God Douglas and Alex would arrive tomor­row. He needed reinforcements, badly.

He conversed easily with the half brothers, knowing they were staring at Rosalind, their anger simmering. Richard Vail finally asked Rosalind if she was enjoying London.

"Oh, yes, ever so much. Everyone is quite kind, you know. Do you enjoy London as well, Mr. Vail?"

He nodded. "You became quickly acquainted with our half brother."

"I surely hope so," she said with a sunny smile.

"And he only very recently arrived in London," Lancelot said. "One would think—" He paused, and because he was so pretty, it was a delicate pause.

Rosalind immediately filled the pause. "One would doubtless think I have immense good taste, is that what you wished to say, Mr. Vail?"

"Not really," Lancelot said. He shot a look at his brother, but Richard only shrugged, and worried his thumbnail.

"But of course you would know when Nicholas arrived in London, wouldn't you?" Rosalind patted her skirts. "After all, you are family."

There was an eternal moment of silence, then Richard and Lancelot Vail bowed to Ryder and Sophie and left the box.

"Wasn't that delightful," Rosalind said behind her hand. "I don't believe I am going to be tremendously fond of your brothers, Nicholas."

"Trust me, they won't be fond of you either," he said.

The theater darkened. Rosalind said low to Nicholas as the thick green curtain was hauled back up, "Don't worry, Nicholas, I won't let those wretched dolts hurt you, and they want to, particularly Lancelot, the pretty little sod." She raised her arm and made a muscle. "I could destroy him."

He laughed, simply couldn't help it. Then he cleared his throat. Laughter spurting out like that meant loss of control, no matter that it was for only a brief moment of time.

Ryder, who'd overheard this, sighed. Rosalind's heels were dug in so deep they were probably close to knocking down a Mandarin farmer in China.

Eventually, after Laertes artfully slew Hamlet with a poi­soned sword and the stage was strewn with bodies, it re­quired a good half hour to make their way through the crowds outside, then another twenty minutes for their car­riage to be brought around. They drove to the Kilbourne town house first, all of them waiting in the carriage while Grayson escorted Lorelei up the wide stone steps to the front door. When the door opened, Grayson quickly realized that directly behind the butler stood Lorelei's father, looking closely at his little chick. What was he worried about? Grayson wondered. He gave Lord Ramey a bow, waved to­ward own his father and mother, who obligingly waved back, proving to Lord Ramey that their precious son hadn't debauched his precious daughter, and finally Grayson made his good-byes.

"Mr. Sherbrooke?"

Grayson turned. "Yes, Miss Kilbourne?"

"Would you care to come to a small recitation tomorrow afternoon? All young people, perhaps twenty in all. We are reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein." She lowered her lids a trifle and stared up at him through lovely thick lashes. "I recommended it. I felt it would please you."

Well, it did. It was one of his favorite novels. However, Grayson wanted nothing more than to be left alone with Rosalind and have her translate the Rules. "Well, you see, Miss Kilbourne, I fear that—"