Sinclair Brothers - Handsome Devil - Sinclair Brothers - Handsome Devil Part 21
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Sinclair Brothers - Handsome Devil Part 21

"As a gift?"

"I believe I clarified that as well. You do know what a gift is, don't you?It's something that is bestowed upon another voluntarily and without--"

"Ha-ha. What I want to know is why."

"Why?" Damien held up a fist. "You do know what happens when a solid forcemeets a fixed object, don't you? Something's going to give. In this case, itwill be your jaw."

"You know what I mean, damn it. You're the earl of Blackstone. Those landsbelong to you."

"And as such, I can do with them as I so please. Well, it pleases me togive one to you--and one to Gray, of course."

Damien's generosity overwhelmed Nicholas. "Why?" he persisted.

"Because I bloody well wanted to, that's why! And if you ask me again, youwon't like the outcome."

Nicholas smiled and raised a hand in supplication. "A wise head keeps ashut mouth."

"Dead men tell no tales," Damien countered.

"I recognize a threat when I hear one." In a more serious tone, Nicholassaid, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," his brother returned gruffly.

"Oh, how lovely that was!" Aggie wept, releasing their hands only to wrapher arms around both their necks and yank them down so that their cheeks weresmashed against her abundant bosom.

"Father Sheehan is here, sir!" Emery blasted.

There was a god. Amen!

Nicholas extracted his neck from Aggie's chokehold. His brother, he notedwith some amusement, had a more difficult time.

Only when Damien agreed to give Aggie a kiss on the cheek did she finallyrelease him. He tumbled back. And then Damien Sinclair, feared by many, abruiser at two-hundred-twenty-five pounds and six-four at last measurement,scrambled away, his back pressed up against the wall. A rather ignobleposition for an earl, not to say extremely amusing. As a recent recipient ofproperty sans payment, Nicholas decided to keep his observations behind histeeth.

Rising, he held out his hand to his brother. "Shall we retire to my officeand discuss this matter further?"

"Does your office still have a well-stocked liquor cabinet?"

"It does. Filled with the nectar of the gods."

Damien slapped his palm into Nicholas's and jumped to his feet as ifpropelled. "Then what the hell are we waiting for? I'd sell you for a drinkright now."

Nicholas chuckled. "And I know how much you treasure me, after all."

"May I ask why you're doing that?"

Sheridan paused in her appraisal of her masterpiece to glance up at Jules,perched quite serenely on an atrocious stone bench whose legs resembled anelephant's--clearly the taste of a man, one with green eyes, coal black hair,and a charming little dent...

Enough of that, Sheridan Delaney! The man was a beast. He'd had theaudacity to accuse her of dropping Miss High and Mighty's bouquet on purpose.

Sheridan had, of course. But how dare he say so!

"Hello?" Jules prompted.

"What?"

"Am I boring you?"

"Of course not! Lord, ye are a ninny sometimes. Borin' me indeed."

Jules had apologized frequently about her condition, which made itdifficult for her to do as much as she'd like. Therefore, the two of themspent a lot of time reminiscing and giggling like schoolgirls.

"Well, it just seems your mind is elsewhere today. In fact, you haven'tbeen quite yourself since you arrived."

"Faith, and what makes ye say such things? Not meself. I'm more meself thanI've ever been, I'll thank ye to know."

"If you say so."

"I say so."

"All right."

"All right."

Sheridan narrowed her gaze on her friend's face, wondering about the slightsmile that played on Jules's lips. Something whirred behind those innocent eyes.

Why had Jules capitulated so easily? Her friend could be more tenaciousthan a bear with a thorn in its paw when trying to extract information.

Sheridan's gaze dropped to Jules's lap where a blanket lay, colored inshades of soft pink, blues, and yellows. The blanket was not yet completed.Jules had been working on it for a week. The week before she had knittedgloves for Sheridan and a somewhat misshapen sweater for her husband, eventhough it was the middle of summer. Booties piled up as if Jules wereexpecting eight babies instead of one.

Sheridan remembered the day she discovered her friend weeping overWilliam's one-sleeve-longer-than-the-other sweater. When Sheridan demanded toknow what had upset Jules, her friend confided to her that her husband lovedher.

Sheridan frowned, not understanding why such a thing would make Jules cry.To hear a man say I love you seemed the most wonderful thing in the world.Sometimes Sheridan wondered if a man would ever say those three words to her.

Jules informed her that pregnancy caused her emotions to run amuck;laughing when tears would be more appropriate and crying when joy should bethe response.

Sheridan could relate to such a thing. Her emotions had been out of lineever since she'd stepped into Nicholas's home, and the tension between themhad, on a few occasions, made her nauseous--and she was as stout as an oak, noless.

A few moments passed with only the click-click of Jules's knitting needlesand the chop-chop of Sheridan's pruning shears.

They relaxed in a small but lovely walled-in garden, the gorgeous flowersthe result of Jules's handiwork during her courtship with William.

Jules had hied off to Nicholas's house often so William would think she spent her time with prospective suitors, refusing to let William know he'd wonher heart the first time he'd smiled at her when they were children.

The man, she huffed, had barely looked her way when they were growing up.She certainly didn't intend to ruin a perfect opportunity to nudge the wretch.

"Sometimes a woman needs to use a little trickery-- not the kind thatwounds, mind you, but the kind that gets her point across," Jules said.

The kind that gets her point across. At last, a concept Sheridanunderstood.

Without looking up from her knitting, Jules remarked, "Your arrangement isshaping up quite nicely."

It should be, Sheridan thought. She'd been rearranging the blasted flowersfor over an hour. She'd never imagined it would be so difficult to get asimple bouquet in order.

The blossoms vexed her at every turn. Too many reds on one side. The yellowand the blue looked bilious together. The sprigs of greenery needed to bendlike tender reeds, not point skyward like flagpoles.

"Why all the interest in flowers today?" Jules inquired, her tone all tooinnocent for Sheridan's comfort.

"Ye know how much I love flowers."

Jules laid her knitting needles down in her lap. "You love flowers, do you?Since when, may I ask?"

"Oh ... for a long time." Sheridan reached for a tall spiky plant in astunning blue-purple color that, she hoped, would remind Nicholas of the exactshade of her eyes.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

Sheridan halted and peered over her shoulder at her friend. "Why not? 'Tislovely."

"Lovely, but poisonous."

"Poisonous?"

Jules nodded. "That's monkshood, often called wolfs-bane."

"Wolfsbane? What a terrible thing to be callin' such a winsome plant."

"It was given that name a long time ago when meat was poisoned with itsjuice to kill off wolves."

"Well, I don't intend to drink it, mind ye, just add a sprinkle here andthere for a wee hint of color."

"Some people get rashes from even touching it. Cousin Nicky, for example.His hand barely brushed the plant one day and his entire arm reddened anditched. He was miserable."

Sheridan slowly pulled her hand back. "Well why don't ye get rid of it,then?"

"I'm the one who tended the garden. When I got married, the plantflourished. My cousin won't get near it, and I'd prefer not to take my chanceswith it. I'm uncomfortable enough as it is." She rubbed a hand over herstomach, a slight grimace marring her smooth brow.

"Well, 'tis a fine thing to be poisoned in yer own home."

Jules chuckled. "If Nicky would hire a gardener, he wouldn't have to worryabout it, but he won't. He often threatens to level my beautiful garden anderect a nice billiard room in its place. He claims flowers don't belong in aman's home, even though his own brother, Damien, has a rose garden that couldmake a horticulturist weep.

"Nevertheless, I gently informed him that if he so much as touches a petal,he will have to contend with me." Jules winked at Sheridan. "That always seemsto work."

Flowers didn't belong in a man's home? Sheridan gritted her teeth,remembering Nicholas's words to Jessica the day before.

I love flowers.

Liar.

A fresh stab of pain struck Sheridan's heart as she concluded the reasonNicholas would have made such a false claim.

He liked Jessica Reardon--perhaps even . .. loved her.

Love could make one do or say things they wouldn't normally. Sheridanshould know.

"This project of yours wouldn't have anything to do with that little mishapin the foyer yesterday, would it?" Jules queried. "An apology of sorts?"

"An apology?" Sheridan snorted. "I dropped the vase by accident, need Iremind ye?"

"Hmm."

"And what does hmm mean?

"Nothing."

" Tis a bad liar ye are, Jules Thornton."

"I merely wondered what prompted you to take up flower arrangement whenwe've sat here in the garden nearly every day since you arrived and you barelydid more than sniff a blossom."

Sheridan stiffened in umbrage. "I thought you'd like a nice bunch for yourroom. Are ye satisfied now?"

"Oh, so those flowers are for me? Hmm."

"Not another hmm, do ye hear?" Sheridan jammed a denuded stem in the vase,having plucked away every petal in her pique.

"I'm sorry. I guess I thought..."

"Thought?"

Jules shrugged. "That they were for dear Cousin Nicky."

"For dear--for him? Never! I wouldn't give that irritating, obnoxious,pigheaded louse ... ooh!"

Jules's brow escalated with every disparaging remark. "So you like him thatmuch?"

"Like him! Like him!"

"Methinks she doth protest too much."

"Don't ye start with yer clever English prattle!"

"More like clever English observation. Did you think I haven't noticed howyou two look at each other? Even your glares are heated with passion."

"Oh, aye. I feel passionate all right--passionate enough to clobber theduffer!"

Jules laughed. "I'm pregnant, Danny. Not blind. I don't know why you and hefight so strenuously to cover up your feelings. I think it's wonderful."

Sheridan blinked. "Ye ... do?" she whispered, as if saying the words tooloud might make Jules retract them.

"Yes. I couldn't be happier. You and Nicky are perfect for each other."