Free Three Nights of Sin by Anne Mallory Page B

had seen that expression he had paused in mid-action—quill suspended in midair, ink dripping onto the papers. Only her eyes lifting toward his had gotten him moving again.
    Surprising, really. She was rather plain. Brown hair, brown eyes, and today a brown dress. An average sort of face—one that could be enhanced by cosmetics, color, and lighting, or muted by the same. Good cheekbones, nice lips, pleasant shape to her eyes—passingly pretty, but not beautiful. From the purely physical characteristics, she was perfect for blending in. She was going to be an asset for any tasks he required.
    The spirit in her eyes, however, told a different story. It had from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was going to be difficult. Always.
    “We will head to the barrister as soon as you are finished eating.”
    She paused and looked up. “Are we going anywhere afterward? Will this do?” She pinched the plain brown muslin.
    “That will be fine. We can always come back to change if needed.”
    She nodded and resumed eating.
    He couldn’t help feel some admiration for her spirit, as difficult as it would surely prove. She had taken the past week in as much stride as one of her station could.
    Her station. His eyes narrowed and he whipped the quill into another revolution. Even if she was ostracized, her family in disgrace, she was part of society, and there were few people from that strata who could be counted upon. Especially women.
    She finished her plate. “I can’t wait to tell Mr. Hackenstay exactly what I think of—”
    “You will not be speaking with the barrister,” he said, his voice even, just as it should be.
    Her head drew up sharply. “Pardon me? I have all sorts of things I need to say to that cheat. He swindled us. Took advantage of Kenny’s situation. He’s a gin-soaked, criminally incompetent, swill-bottled—”
    “As lovely as that list is, you will not speak to the barrister.”
    “I certainly will. No one takes advantage of a Winters and gets away with it.” Shoulders pushed back, chin thrust forward.
    Even as a woman of society, her loyalty to her brothers was a point in her favor.
    “That is certainly a spine-tingling threat—what, with your ready blunt and large network of people to assist you.” He twirled the quill again, accomplishing two revolutions in time with his dig.
    Color suffused her cheeks. “We can get our revenge other ways. Mark may be insufferable, but he is my brother, and just growing into his maturity. And Kenny is a baby.”
    “That baby is eighteen.”
    “He’s a baby,” she said pointedly.
    Having met him, Gabriel decided not to argue. Kenny could grow into a stronger person, he was young, and a strong mentor would make a big difference. But Mark…
    “You say Mark is growing into his maturity? When exactly will that take place?”
    “Soon,” she said firmly, her eye twitching only faintly.
    “You can’t even say that with a straight face. Your brother is older than I am. I can only hope I reach my maturity soon, in that case.”
    She blinked. He resisted the vain urge to look in a mirror. What, did he look ancient all of a sudden?
    He leaned forward and watched her eyes widen, her chest quicken its pace. Male satisfaction surged within him. “I was scraping and scheming at Kenny’s age. Back-breaking work, no sleep, risky ventures.” Fear and determination his constant companions. “I had to endure more than not being able to afford a new pair of boots. Poor Kenny. Poor Mark,” he said scathingly, allowing a rarely given piece of himself into the conversation.
    He had little respect for anyone who was not willing to put in the effort required to survive and thrive. Not everyone needed the same driving ambition that had fueled him. That had led him to being possibly the richest man in London without a title in his lineage—all earned in under a decade. That had given him the power to change lives. But a person needed to have the drive to change his own