Free Thief of Hearts by Patricia Gaffney Page A

did
he
say?"
    She didn't answer, merely waited.
    Brodie sat back and crossed his long legs. "I'll tell you, but only on one condition. That you don't call me a liar afterward."
    Anna flushed. "I apologize for that. I—"
    "Apology accepted." He smiled; she didn't smile back. He was beginning to wonder if she had any sense of humor at all. "I was born in my father's house in the Vale of Clwydd, in Denbighshire. I lived there for six years, and then my mother and my brother and I moved to Llanuwchllyn, near Llyn Tegid and the Dyfrdwy. That's the River Dee to you."
    "Wales," she said, just to be sure.
    "Aye, Wales," he confirmed, laughing.
    Not Ireland, then. She believed him. It meant Nicholas had lied. "Are your parents living?" she asked faintly.
    "My mother's dead."
    "Father?"
    "Not dead. As far as I know." Or care, he added to himself.
    Anna had so many questions, she didn't know where to begin. But to ask them would be to admit Nicholas had lied about
everything
, and she wasn't ready for that. "You and Nicholas, you… did grow up together, I suppose?" she asked without much hope.
    "Aye, until we were fourteen. Then we took different paths, you might say."
    His tone held bitterness, she noted. "And yet you both followed the sea. Or ships, at any rate."
    "It's a curious thing, that. Llanuwchllyn is as inland as can be, but we both found work near the sea. I can't explain it. It wasn't something we talked about as children."
    "They say… " she swallowed painfully, "… they say there's a special bond between twins." There, she'd admitted it. It was a beginning.
    Brodie had an inkling how much the admission had cost her. He wanted to touch her, put his hand over her small one gripping the edge of the writing case, but he didn't dare. It would scare her to death. Instead he said, "Annie," very softly, the name coming to him quite naturally. "I'm sorry you're so sad."
    Anna straightened her shoulders, composing herself, and made another concession. "It is possible my name is not really Balfour, that Nicholas… made it up. If it's hard for you to call me that, then I suppose you may call me Miss Jourdaine for the time being. It's what I'm used to, after all. But I have not given you permission to call me by my Christian name, and certainly not by a silly nickname no one else has ever called me." In the middle of this speech she realized they were both speaking in low, nearly intimate tones, almost as though they were trying not to waken Aiden. The idea shocked her. She raised her voice to a more conversational level, but the lawyer slept on.
    "No one?" asked Brodie, still in a murmur. "No sweetheart ever called you Annie? And it's such a pretty name."
    "I've had no 'sweethearts,'" she said frostily, "except my husband."
    And he probably called you "Miss Jourdaine" in bed on your wedding night, thought Brodie. He clucked his tongue in pretended surprise and sympathy. "None at all? Not even one?"
    "None." His pitying tone annoyed her.
    "Why do you spell Jourdaine with all those extra letters if you're just going to pronounce it 'Jordan'?" he wondered unexpectedly. "Why not spell it the way it sounds?"
    For the first time since he'd met her, she laughed. It transformed her pale, solemn face in the most wonderful way, and the throaty, gurgling sound of it brought an instant smile to his lips. "That's a ridiculous question," she answered good-naturedly, "coming from a Welshman, a man who pronounces Clwyd as 'Cloo-id' and Rhuddlan as 'Rithlan.'"
    Brodie grinned appreciatively, enjoying her game attempt at a Welsh accent. "You've been to Wales, I see."
    "Oh yes, or to Llandudno, anyway. It's beautiful, and becoming quite a popular resort." She drew a quick breath. She was actually speaking to this man as if they were social acquaintances! She felt a sudden flash of disloyalty to her husband, and a hint of something else even more treacherous. She began to stopper her ink bottle and remove the nib from her pen.
    "I've not been back