Your Darkest Dream (Blackwood & Friends #2)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"You can understand my hesitation," Jason drawled from where he stood against the side of the tall window of his study the following morning. He gave Nate a disbelieving look, as if he couldn't quite wrap his head around the context of the meeting and the obvious truth that it had been initiated by his friend.

"Blanche's idea has merit," he explained stiffly, feeling her eyes swivel to him as if she too couldn't quite believe the words that he uttered. Nate huffed a sigh, silently condemning the day he met Jason Blackwood and subsequently his entire family. What was it about them, he wondered, that drew people in so easily? Once you were considered a close friend of the Blackwood's, you were part of the family. Even if that family contained a mahogany-haired little temptress whose middle name was Trouble. "Consider what happened to your wife not so long ago. Both ladies could withstand some instruction when it comes to defending themselves against the seedier characters of our city."

At mention of that day, Jason's face blackened. Not long ago, Nicola had been accosted by a common miscreant outside her townhouse in London while she had bravely attempted to ward him off her young companion that she occasionally read with. It was by sheer luck alone that Jason, Nathaniel and Oliver had been present in time to deter any real harm from occurring. "True," Jason conceded slowly, his eyes swivelling to Blanche. "And this was your idea, sister? Why?"

At that, Nate felt her trepidation as if it reached a palpable finger out to touch him. He glanced at her sitting across from him in the other wing-backed chair facing Jason's desk. She was staring at her brother, her face carefully neutral, and she looked demure and fetching in a pink frock. There was no bonnet in her hair today, and her dainty fingers were not covered by any gloves, and he saw the tremble in them as she buried her hands in her skirts, about to recount what she had endured the night of the masquerade. He knew, from his own experience, that something like this could be hard to discuss. His mother had never wanted to talk about the abuse she had received at the hands of Barrett. It had infuriated him but he knew all too well the need to silence the reality of the cause of the bruises purpling his skin.

"There was an incident," she began and Nate did not allow the ache he felt at the sound of her voice to reveal itself, "the night of the masquerade." Blanche swallowed and inhaled deeply, as if steeling herself. He found her stronger than she even realised she was in that moment. "I was accosted by a gentleman outside one of the terraces... he made untoward advances and-"

Jason came off the wall suddenly, his entire body taut. "Who?" he demanded.

"I- I don't know," Blanche stammered, taken aback by the fury radiating from her brother.

It was a lie. He knew it was. Nate recognised it easily, years of working the days and evenings at his club made him quicker than most at reading people, their ticks and quirks whenever they were bluffing at a hand of poker, whether confidence was faked or genuine. Not only that, but he had also seen Blanche outside that night, the horror on her face as she stared down at the unconscious form at her feet. She knew him, he was sure of it, and for whatever reason she was determined to keep it a secret.

"What did he look like?" Jason snapped. His anger was not directed towards his sister but it was making her nervous nonetheless as she clenched her fingers and worked her jaw.

"It was too dark to make any clear discernments," Nate informed him calmly, raising his brows meaningfully at his best friend in the hopes that he would quietly ascertain that he should tread carefully around his sister.

Jason turned to him, his eyes narrowed. "You were there? With Blanche?"

"Mr Southill... saved me," Blanche explained. "I shouldn't like to think what would have happened if he hadn't come to my rescue, Jason."

"I saw Blanche being followed outside by the man in question," he added. "I made a quick assessment of the situation and reacted as I saw fit." He flexed his fingers.

Jason sighed, rubbing the side of his face. "I thank you for that, at least. Though both of you should have made me aware of the situation sooner."

"It was Blanche's decision to make."

Jason looked like he very much disagreed with that but made no mention of it. "Sadly, if we had been informed sooner, we could have searched London the next day for a gentleman who had attended Henley's and had been seen sporting a very bruised chin."

"And do what, exactly?" Blanche demanded.

Jason looked significantly at Nate. Oh, right. That was his cue.

He cracked his knuckles.

"The lot of you are barbarians," she sniffed but there was a light in her eyes that spoke volumes about how much it intrigued her. As a lady, Blanche should take offense to any form of violence... but Blanche was, well, Blanche and Nate knew there was something profoundly different about her. Any other prim and proper miss would have collapsed in his arms, a weeping terrified mess, the night he had decked her assaulter. Not Blanche Blackwood...

"That may be so," Jason said grimly, "but it needs to be made clear what can and will happen if someone thinks they could harm our family. Oh, don't look at me like that, Bee. We are not thugs. We would have taken the lout to the Magistrate, have him thrown in Newgate."

"Eventually," Nate added with a wolfish grin. Blanche looked at him sharply.

"Will you allow it or not, Jason?" she said a touch impatiently.

"I'll allow it." He gave her a thin-lipped smile. "You are never to be alone with Nathaniel. Do you understand, Blanche? Nicola will be present throughout all your... activities."

Did Jason realise what he was doing? Nate decided then and there that Blanche's brother had very little knowledge of the sort of woman his sister was. Her obstinance would undoubtedly flare at the challenge and, even if she didn't realise it herself yet, the gauntlet had been laid out before her like a tempting piece of chocolate cake. The horrid thing about that realisation- Nate didn't think he found the idea as unappealing as he desperately wanted to, as he should.

Blanche bristled and crossed her arms. "I am not a child, Jason. You needn't worry, I have no desire to be left alone with the beast." Another lie and he bit back a smile. "As you said, Nicki will be joining me. She is chaperone enough, surely."

"God, possibly not. The two of you are worse together than apart." Jason ran his hands through his head, beleaguered. Then he turned to throw a glower at Nate. "You do realise I will have to call you out if anything were to happen?"

"You have very little to worry about," Nate said succinctly.

Blanche considered him mutely, her head tilted to one side. Her lips were puckered slightly as if she were mulling over the words and he unwillingly stirred at the gleam in her gaze that spoke volumes of what an intriguing piece of the puzzle she thought he was.

"Very well. How do you propose to move forward?" Jason asked, directing his question to Nate who dragged his attention away from Blanche.

"I can move a few things from the Den here," Nate said with a shrug. "We shouldn't need much."

"Fine, have it done."

"Really?" Blanche chirped, glancing between the two men. "That's it? I mean, Mr Southill will show me how to fight?"

Nate snorted. "No, I am going to show you how to be stronger."