Page 20 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
He almost scoffed at the notion. Well, aside from Julian, really. He sighed and continued writing.
“You may ignore me, but you know I am right.”
His quill paused, but he still did not look up at her.
Arabella sighed. “I have missed you.” Her voice was so level, her words careful. “I thought that when you returned, we would have been able to spend most moments of our days together once again, but you have focused on this every waking second.”
Can you blame me?
He kept his question trapped beneath his tongue, careful with his harsher retorts around his sister.
Arabella pushed on, reaching for his hand, but he discreetly shifted it out of reach. He could not bear a touch he was not prepared for. He could not bear his sister’s soft hands to come into contact with his own—not after everything he had done with them.
He flexed his fingers.
“I just want you to be here, Edmund. Right here with me, now, as my brother. Can you do that?”
Finally, Edmund met her gaze, a pain deep in his chest as he took in her pleading expression.
It was not the young face he recalled the day he had been kidnapped; Arabella was only twelve years old at the time. It was a young woman, already entered into Society, all while he had been absent. It was the helpless look of a sister struggling to reach her brother.
She was right to ask this of him, but he was no longer the brother she recalled, the brother she would have grieved night after night for seven years. He had left England one way and returned different, torn apart from the inside and re-forged.
By Logan. By Logan’s enemies, his own men, and Edmund himself.
How could she ever like the man he had become? He was a stranger to her, linked only by their titles as brother and sister. The face and name of her brother, but not the true meaning of it.
Shame burned through him, and he looked away from her, swallowing thickly.
Edmund sighed, weary. He truly did wish to rest, but he could not. His mind would not let him.
“Arabella, there is no peace for me until I figure all of this out.”
“I am not asking you to abandon it completely. I only wish to help. If our time together should be spent doing this, then I would be quite content. Share your burden, Brother. I am not a little girl anymore. I have grown up, I am smart—I am sure I can help.”
“I will not have you involved in any of this.” His words came out sharper than he intended.
Arabella winced but nodded a moment later.
“Fine, then,” she said, smiling. “Then spend time with me doing something else. Chaperone me to a ball tonight. Will you do that for me?”
Without hesitation, Edmund answered, “No.” He shook his head. “I must finish my work here. I am sorry, I cannot. Ask Benjamin.”
Without him realizing it, she had put his hand on his. He flinched, but for once, he forced himself not to pull back.
The feel of her trusting hand on his, her lack of knowledge of what he had done, choked him for a moment, and he looked back at her.
“I am asking my brother,” Arabella told him.
He was utterly cornered. It gave him pause, and he thought over the possibility. He had, so far, managed to avoid a ball. But it might be a chance to discreetly ask about some lighter topics that could lead him to more information.
Eventually, he nodded. “Fine. But we do not have time to equip you with a new dress.”
His sister’s face softened, her grin pretty as she clapped happily. “Do not fret about that—I have plenty of dresses I have not yet worn. Thank you, thank you!”
She swept up and out of the chair, retreating to the door. But before she left, she turned back to him.
“Edmund, I want you to know that you are back home. You do know that, yes?”
