Madly (New York 2)

It felt like at least this time, this one night, the adventure would be whatever happened between them. A cup of tea with an unrelated human who had the power to stop his heart—the possibility of it—was something he had given up believing would happen a long time ago.

It was this loss of faith, he thought, that had led directly to his cocking up his relationship with his brother. He’d been so stuck in his own life, and bitterly envious of Neville’s willingness to start all over again in favor of passion, and of his brother’s ability to fall in love.

He was a romantic, possibly. Something not even Bea or Rosemary or anyone had ever suspected about him.

Not that he would fall in love with this Allie-from-Wisconsin, of course.

Not at all. Allie just meant there was some hope in life, yet. Perhaps. Maybe.

Or maybe whiskey made him absolutely mad.

“So I’m feeling like we’ve got to bring the Force back into balance here,” Allie said. “You know about my whole thing with my mom and the sperm donor. I need, like, at least two of your worst secrets to even things out. What have you got?”

“I tried to blackmail my brother into marriage.”

“You did? I don’t believe it.”

“You could ask him yourself, if you’re still around in a few days. He’s coming to visit with his…his partner, I think they say. Mary Catherine. Cath.”

“Was it Cath you tried to make him marry?”

“No, she wasn’t in the picture yet—or rather she was, but I didn’t understand that. He was working for the family’s bank at the time. I was the boss. He’s quite a bit younger, you see, and our mother was worried he wasn’t settling into his responsibilities as he should have been.”

“Slacking off? Whoring around in the gutters of Paris?”

“Nothing like that. He came to the office as he was meant to. But he lived in a flat in Greenwich, playing rugby with the lads on the weekends, and painting.”

“What does he paint?”

“Oil portraits, primarily.”

“Sounds scandalous.”

Winston remembered clearly what it had felt like to be scandalized by Neville’s choices, which had proven to be the right choices for him. But with Allie sitting beside him encouraging his confession with a teasing smile, he felt only regret that things had turned out as they had.

“I told him he had to be engaged to someone suitable by the bank holiday weekend or I’d have him fired. Then, when he turned up with Cath, who he was quite obviously taken with, I declared her unsuitable and did my best to bring an end to it.”

“Wow. That’s kind of a lot.”

“I know.”

“Like, soap opera a lot.”

“I’m aware.” He sipped his tea and reminded himself there was nothing she might say or think about him that he hadn’t already thought of himself.

“I mean, it sounds like a lot of work you put yourself through. Why did you care so much who your brother married, or whether he got married at all?”

“I told myself I wanted him to be happy. I was…frustrated with him. We were raised to expect we would have certain responsibilities, a certain social position to keep. Our mother especially made it clear how she wanted us to behave, and Neville was younger, and looked up to me.” He tried to think how to explain how much pressure he’d felt to do the things he’d done as a young man. How it had seemed there was only one decision to make when Rosemary fell pregnant, only one sort of house to buy, one kind of life to live. “Neville did what he was meant to do, but only to a point, and I could always tell he didn’t want to. I couldn’t stand it.”

“You were jealous.”

“I was. Horribly jealous. But I’d no idea, at the time. I had her investigated. When the investigation turned up some rather unsavory details in her past, I threw them in her face in front of the family.”

Allie sipped her tea, watching him. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he didn’t feel troubled by his ignorance. He felt safe.

“That is completely sinister,” she said. “I can’t believe they’re coming to visit you.”

“I suspect they’re coming to visit Bea, actually. And to see the sights. But yes. He didn’t speak to me at all for a very long time, and we’ve only just mended our fences enough, sort of, for him to agree to see me.”