Siren

Ten

Chapter Ten

 

“Get the hell out of my house, Witherspoon,” Edward’s furious voice boomed through the house. “If I so much as catch you in the same village as my sister again you’ll find yourself on the unpleasant end of my dueling pistol.” 

“Oh, no.” Phoebe tossed her book onto an end table, and shot out of the chair she’d been lounging in. When had Edward returned home? She dashed to the top of the stairs, dread settling in the pit of her stomach as she flew down the steps. “Edward! Edward, stop!”

Phoebe careened around the corner into the entrance hall. Edward and James squared off by the oversize door, two titans prepared for battle. Their butler stood against one wall, uncharacteristic panic lining his usually staid façade.

“Get back upstairs, Phoebe,” Edward growled. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“This concerns me very much.” She marched into the hall and speared her brother with a withering glare. “However, it does not concern you.” Ignoring her brother’s return glare she turned to James. “The parlor is this way. Please join me.”

James shifted a guarded gaze from her to Edward but said nothing, and made no move to follow her.

“James?” She took a hesitant step forward, dreams of love, marriage, and brown eyed children rapidly evaporating.

“James?” Edward stormed forward and… exploded. “James!” He shoved James square in the chest with enough force to send the larger man staggering backward. “She’s using your given name now? Just when did you become so familiar with my sister.”

Regaining his balance, James clenched a fist at his side as a murderous glint steeled in his eye, but he remained silent.

Phoebe’s heart hammered. Part of her prayed James would tell Edward the truth and fight for her, while another feared what her brother would do if he knew just how close she and James had been.

Edward turned on her, gray eyes blazing with rage. “So help me, Phoebe, I warned you about consorting with that man.” Her brother stabbed a finger toward James. “Do you know what he is?”

“I know perfectly well who he is,” Phoebe began. “He—”

“He is a gambler and a thief and a drunken womanizer.”

James flinched as each word struck the air. The truth of defeat in his eyes sliced clear through Phoebe. Her heart trembled.

“The magistrate sent word of the murder you reported last night. Are you responsible for that as well?”

“No,” James growled.

Edward stalked forward once more. “You low down, scou—”