Chapter Forty
Washed and changed, thanks to Eddie’s foresight to pack some fresh clothes, Angus stood before the drawing-room door, drawing a steady breath before turning the handle and stepping inside.
Louis made no attempt to rise. One long leg draped elegantly over the other, elbows resting on the chair’s arms, fingers — flesh and silver — tapping gently together in an arc before his chest. He regarded Angus with quiet amusement. Silence stretched between them as they sized each other up.
It was Louis who finally spoke, a glint of mischief lighting his eyes.
“Felicitations, old friend. Your wife is a perfectly delightful creature. Charm, wit and the face of an angel. Mm… and that smile of hers is enough to melt the iciest of hearts. And yet…”
“Careful, Louis,” Angus warned, his tone chillingly calm. “I’m in no mood for your taunts or games. And if you think Madeline’s presence will stay my anger, you’re mistaken.”
Louis tilted his head, feigning consternation.
“And why, pray tell, are you angered with me? It was your wife who called upon me. Unannounced. Unchaperoned… and at a scandalous hour, no less. Far from anywhere, except for a hovel of an Inn, frequented by undesirables. What would you have had me do? Turn her out?”
Angus glared but said nothing.
“I thought not,” murmured Louis. “So what is it that displeases you? That I kept her safe, or that it was to me she came for help?”
“Help!” Angus sneered. “By giving her a fictitious name and sending her on a wild goose chase? You don’t help, Louis… you play games with people’s lives for your own amusement and gain.”
Louis picked up the glass at his side and watched the liquid within swirl around as he gently rotated his hand.
“Mm,” he said nonchalantly, “very true. I do have a particular penchant for amusing myself with the folly of others, and really, why would one bother with such a diversion if there were no rewards at the end. Yet,” he said, his gaze slowly lifting, looking Angus directly in the eyes, “in this, I seek no amusement.”
“Really!”
“Really,” echoed Louis silkily, a smile ghosting his lips. “The company of your delightful wife was reward enough.”
Angus stepped forward, eyes hard. “If you so much as…”
“Tsk,” Louis cut him off with weary patience. “Has your opinion of me been so tainted? Were we not as brothers once?”
“Brothers?” Angus’s laugh was bitter. “We were all like brothers… until you betrayed that bond, then systematically tried to destroy us all.”
“Ah, well,” Louis mused, his amiable expression not wavering, “the bond between brothers can be a complex thing, but believe me when I say this — I play no games now. The only return I seek for the information I’ve given your wife is for you to find peace…
and rid yourself of this absurd notion that you are cursed and descending into madness. ”
As Angus’s head jerked back in shock.
Louis’s eyes softened, though his smile remained urbane.
“You may think me an enemy… and in truth, sadly, that is what we have become, but in this, I am still your brother. I made you a promise when we were boys, when we were as brothers should be, and whatever you may think I have become, my word is still my bond.”
“You…” Angus began, but Louis was already on his feet, walking away.
“Go to bed, Angus. Do as you will with the information I have given. But have a care, old friend, uncommonly beautiful wives seldom stay lonely long… even in Wales.”
“You…” spat Angus, but his old nemesis was already gone.
He stood for a moment, taking several deep, calming breaths before striding to the sideboard and pouring a generous measure of single malt.
He threw it back in one swallow, the glass slamming onto the polished wood.
Rolling his shoulders, he tried to shake the tension from his body — then froze at the sound of a voice.
“That bad, darling?”
He turned, startled, then sighed. “Isn’t it always when one is forced to look inwards?”
Madeline smiled. “I would have thought that depends on what one sees.”
“Hm,” he grunted and waved his hand in the direction of the decanters.
“Cognac, darling, and don’t be shy.”
He obliged and poured himself another malt.
“You know,” she began, settling gracefully on the sofa, “as little boys, you both loved a good fairy tale. The pair of you would pester dear old Hayford into telling you a story every night before bed, and oh, how that man could weave an enchanting tale. You would be perched on the edge of your chairs, mesmerised, hanging on his every word, near breathless with anticipation.”
Angus smiled faintly. “I remember.”
“Mmm,” Madeline murmured. “For Louis, the darker the tale, the better. Anything with danger lurking in the shadows, or ghosts and ghouls haunting the corridors, wicked witches and flesh-eating curses, he couldn’t get enough.”
“Aye, and I’d be frightened half to death.”
“Indeed, until Louis would convince you they were only stories. ‘Don’t be daft,’ he’d say, ‘he died of the pox, not a curse! He caught it from the old hag.’ You much preferred the stories of adventure and quests…
the hero slaying the dragon to rescue the princess. Everyone living happily ever after…”
“I don’t remember it quite that way.”
“Oh, I do. And it seems to me little has changed. Louis still loves the thrill of danger. You’re still fighting dragons… and Louis is still trying to convince you that curses are nothing more than stories made up by wicked old aunts.”
He gave her an incredulous look and shook his head in derision. “Tact, still not one of your strong suits, I see.”
“Tact, darling, is for those who are too spineless to speak the truth. And since I am neither skilled nor interested in the art of diplomacy, I shall tell you this. Swallow your pride and accept Louis’s help.
Distrust him in all else if you must, but in this, his intentions are sincere and offered in deference to the love and friendship you once shared. ”
“I… I don’t know, Madeline. Too much water has passed under the bridge.”
Her gaze softened. “What are you afraid of?”
He exhaled heavily. “The truth, I suppose. Confirmation that my father really was a murderous madman.”
“Oh, Angus.” She rose and crossed to him, taking his face between her hands. “It’s time you slay that dragon, claim your love and live, well, as happily as any of us can.”
“My love?”
Looking deeply into his eyes, she studied him for a moment before she smiled affectionately.
“Yes,” she said softly, “I know a man in love when I see one, even if he refuses to admit it to himself.” Leaning forward, she placed her lips to his cheek and kissed him tenderly, as a mother to a child.
“And just so you know,” she whispered, “I approve.”