Free An Heir of Deception by Beverley Kendall

Katie asked the following morning during breakfast. Without giving Charlotte an opportunity to respond, her sister rushed on. “Is it the mattress? We could easily purchase another.”
    “No, ’tis nothing, truly. The bed was par above the ones I’ve slept on since I left.” Charlotte smiled her assurance and then commenced to eat her breakfast—or at the very least, attempted to.
    “You are hiding something.”
    Charlotte might have taken her sister’s statement as an accusation had she not glanced into her eyes, which seemed to plead, Please don’t shut me out .
    “I know something has happened since we last spoke, so you may as well tell me. You know I’m nothing if not determined. I’ll discover it whether you wish it or not,” she finished teasingly, but her eyes were anxious and concerned.
    “I was thinking of Nicholas.” Which was partly true. “All of this is so new to him.”
    Katie bit into a piece of buttered scone, chewed it slowly and then wiped the corners of her mouth with a linen serviette . “Nicholas, I imagine, will do quite well here. When James and Missy return with the children, he will acquire three exuberant cousins and playmates. You see how quickly he devoured his breakfast so he could go and explore the playroom? Did he at all appear like a child whose welfare you need fret about?”
    Indeed he did not. Charlotte had joined him and Jillian this morning in the nursery, certain Nicholas’s lack of familiarity with his surroundings would turn him into something akin to climbing ivy as it had for the past two weeks. She could not have been more wrong. He’d been like the proverbial child in a sweetmeat shop, awed at the vast array of toys in the adjoining playroom. Oatmeal porridge—which he’d never had a particular fondness for—and coddled eggs had been consumed in fifteen minutes flat, unlike the half hour it normally took to coax it down his throat. Bribery was always the last resort to achieve success.
    After he’d finished, he’d scrambled from his chair, and with an absent smile in her direction, had hurried over to the shiny red train set spread out on the buffed wood floors. Charlotte had departed, assured he’d be occupied for the next few hours or more.
    “No, I suppose not,” she conceded.
    “So, if my nephew’s state of well-being is not a concern, what is it that has you looking strained and on edge?” Katie asked before taking a sip of her tea.
    Charlotte added a lump of sugar to her hot chocolate and stirred it slowly. Just as slowly, she peered up at her sister. “Alex was here last night—in my bedchamber.” She didn’t speak loud enough to be overheard by the footman posted near the entrance of the breakfast room. However, the impact of her words were certainly felt if one could go by Katie’s gasp as she jerked her hand and knocked over her teacup. The stain of the tea spread quickly, blemishing the white linen cloth covering the table.
    “Oh botheration,” her sister muttered as she righted the ivory cup.
    At her sister’s exclamation, the footman jumped into action, coming to the table to begin sopping up what little tea hadn’t already soaked into the tablecloth. With a negligent flick of her hand, Katie waved him away. “You can do naught else. The linen must be removed but that will have to wait until we have finished eating.”
    The young man—quite young in fact, for his smooth cheeks said he’d yet to reach his majority—halted. “Are you certain, Miss Catherine?”
    “Yes, you can tend to it later. Although, I’ll need some more hot water.”
    Placing the towel, now soiled with tea, over the sleeve of his fustian jacket, he gave a short bow and swiftly departed toward the kitchen.
    The moment he was out of view and earshot, Katie swung her gaze toward Charlotte. “Alex was here? Last night? In your chamber?” The questions came fierce and hushed.
    Save the kiss that had only stoked her passions and kept her tossing in her bed