Free Unveiled by Courtney Milan Page A

he’d been forced to listen to the two most interesting people on the estate make friends with each other. Ash let out a small growl of frustration.
    At that moment, Mark sauntered into the room. He took one look at Ash and shook his head.
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous, older brother.” His voice was annoyingly cheerful. Ash was convinced he put on that bright expression on purpose, just to annoy him. He became even more sure when Mark leaned over the arm of his chair and favored him with a brilliant smile. “I’ve never even touched her, you know.”
    â€œIt hardly matters. Neither have I.”
    â€œThat was rather the point.” Mark pushed away from Ash’s seat and turned around. “Come now. Chastity builds character.”
    Ash held back a rude noise. He’d wanted to spend time with his brother, not antagonize him further.
    â€œIf you must know,” Mark continued, “she reminds me of Hope.”
    A brief band of pain constricted about Ash’s chest. “She’s nothing like Hope.” But his brother’s words brought to mind a picture of their sister, her hair long and dark, her smile fragile. It was an image he couldn’t forget, even had he wanted to. She should have been a grown woman now. She would have been, if Parford had acted when Ash begged him to do so.
    â€œWhat do you remember of her, anyway?”
    â€œNot enough. Her hands. Her laugh. I remember that after she died, everything seemed to change so quickly. It was as if she had been the gatekeeper to allthat was good in the world, and with her gone…” Mark shrugged again. “But all that’s over. Still, I remember enough of the nightmare that followed to know that it’s a hellish thing to be alone in the world, unprotected.”
    â€œMiss Lowell doesn’t need protection from me. ”
    â€œShe’s employed by the Dalrymples, Ash. What do you suppose will happen to her when we leave and Richard and Edmund return? Do you fancy leaving her to their tender mercies, then?”
    He hadn’t fancied leaving her behind at all. But if he said that, Mark would tease him all the more. “I hadn’t thought what would happen when we left,” Ash said stiffly.
    â€œNo. You wouldn’t.” Mark spoke this piece of brazen treachery with an utterly matter-of-fact manner.
    Ash flinched. He could not make himself look away from his brother’s gaze. He spent half the days wishing Mark would talk to him. It was in moments like this that he wished to take it all back. He wished he could push his brother away. That he could forget what he had done to his brothers—or rather, what he hadn’t.
    â€œChrist, Mark.”
    â€œYou don’t always think about others the way you should,” Mark said simply.
    That criticism cut more deeply than the reference to Hope. Mark stated it so mildly, making the wound sting all the more. Mark’s gaze was as piercing as only someone who had survived the precise contours of one’s faults could be.
    â€œI think about others every damned second of the day. It’s because of you that I’m here, after all, because of what I wanted to give you—”
    â€œAnd still you stomp about, leaving little eddies of destruction in your wake.”
    Hell. Guilt was bad enough, without having his brother point out his every flaw. Ash had been the one to solemnly swear that he would protect and defend the younger children. He had been the one who had nodded as his father told him that their mother was given to excess. He’d solemnly promised to temper her zeal.
    He’d failed. A few years later, despite his best efforts, his sister had died. A few months after that, Ash had left for India, determined to make his fortune and thus undo everything their mother had done.
    But he’d left his brothers behind. He would never be able to forget the sick sensation he’d felt when he found Mark and