Free The Skilled Seduction by Tracy Goodwin Page A

MacAlistair family history, Tristan hid many secrets.  
    Once dressed, Tristan exited his suite reminding himself that this, too, shall pass though the anxiety and restlessness warring within his veins forced him to question his assertion.  
    Not a promising way to begin his morning.
    When he reached the breakfast room, Tristan found Gwen standing by the sideboard, dishing eggs onto two plates.
    “Feeling better?” she asked as she piled bacon onto one of the plates, then some fruit.
    “I’m fine, dearest sister, and you?” he feigned nonchalance as he kissed her on the cheek.
    Gwen handed him a plate then carried hers to the table, set with two place settings. “That flippant answer would work if I believed you,” she said softly, picking up her fork. “We both know that you are far from happy, Tristan.”
    “Had I known that I would be subjected to an inquisition this early in the morning, I would have taken my meal with the teddy bear upstairs.” Though he tried to keep his tone light, his impatience was evident.
    The crisp scent of fresh air drifted through an open bank of windows, drawing his attention to the grounds that lay behind them. He found it much easier to lie to his sister when he wasn’t facing her. “I am fine, Gwen. You needn’t worry.”
    “Look at me,” she ordered, her tone brooking no argument.
    He complied at once, meeting her concerned gaze.
    “You have always been my best friend and I am worried about you,” Gwen placed her fork on her plate with a soft clink before reaching for his hand. “You never write me, rarely come home to visit and you barely speak to me when you do. I don’t know how to help you.”
    Nice speech. Even he had to give his sister credit for her attempt. “I don’t need your help,” Tristan managed, surprised at how calm his voice sounded when inside he was ready to scream.
    “Yes, you most certainly do. Just because one woman lied to you—”
    “It was more than one woman, Gwen,” he reminded her. “It was also more than enough to convince me not to trust another ever again.”
    “Tristan, this life that you have fashioned for yourself doesn’t suit you,” she continued, stubborn to a fault.  
    Gwen never gave up, not even on lost causes and he most definitely qualified as such.
    “Don’t talk to me about who you believe me to be, Gwen,” he pulled his hand free of her grasp. “Don’t fool yourself. I am not the same man I once was.”
    She stared at him, “Then tell me that you are happy.”
    Her eyes bore into the depths of being and Tristan knew lying would be fruitless. His sister already sensed the truth, it was part of their bond as twins. She knew him far better than he would have liked.
    “Have you ever considered the possibility that perhaps I was never meant to be happy?” Tristan shoved his plate to the side.
    “You mustn’t say such—”
    “Honestly, Gwen, be realistic.” He folded his linen napkin in an attempt to control of his mounting temper. “You have your fairy tale, so does Colin. Don’t you think three joyful siblings are too much to ask for one family, especially when that clan’s history is rich with MacAlistair machinations?”
    “You deserve your own happiness,” Gwen whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
    Please don’t cry, he silently pleaded. The last thing Tristan wished to contend with at present was his sister’s heartbreak.
    “You have always protected me and put my needs above your own,” she continued. “I know the amount of pain and disappointment you underwent when Eve chose Colin over you.”  
    “You needn’t remind me, Gwen. I lived it, remember?” He turned again towards the luminous day beaming on the other side of the windows, in stark contrast to his blackened heart.
    Although Gwen remained silent, he suspected she was studying him intently. He refused to make eye contact with her, instead concentrating on the gauzy curtains that swayed back and forth from the gentle