From Lies (6 page)

Rafe shrugged his shoulders, unable to find words that would keep his secrets. He didn't just take her to Lord Shaften's to make sure she was properly chaperoned, and he didn't help Jaq with his siblings by sitting around staring at them, but he wouldn't tell her that. Tonight was for her, and he wouldn't spoil it.
Appearances.

"Did you have fun?" he asked, kissing her cheek as he took her arm from Lord Shaften's.

She huffed but let him. "Yes." She glanced at Lord Shaften. "If you don't mind, I would like another dance. Maybe later in the night?"

"I would be obliged." Lord Shaften took one of her hands, bending at the waist to place a kiss on it.

Rafe would have rolled his eyes at the way they both flushed if it weren't for the children cooing at his sides. Besides, his sister looked embarrassed enough by the attention.

"Since you've returned, if you don't mind, I'd like to take your charming companion for a turn on the floor," the man in black said, offering his hand to Rafe.

"Please, by all means," Raquel said as she nudged him into the other man's arms.

Rafe scowled at her, but she just stuck her tongue out and turned away, talking with the children and the other stranger while Lord Shaften stood at her side. With no other option, and not wanting to appear rude, Rafe took the offered hand and allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor. The song started off slow, a simple slide around the dance floor before it picked up, taking them faster as the steps became more intricate. Rafe was beginning to relax when his partner spoke.

"I feel we've met."

Rafe's brow furrowed. He'd felt the same. "Your voice is familiar, but I can't place it."

"Hmm." His partner looked him up and down, as if that would somehow reveal how they knew of each other. "I feel it has been a while, but you must have made an impression."

Rafe laughed. He tried his best not to leave an impression anymore on most people he encountered. It was safer that way. "I must confess I don't know what I might have done to leave an impression."

The man smiled, and something in Rafe tightened. "I enjoy your laugh. Maybe we can find each other out of these masks and get to know one another?"

Rafe shook his head, amused at the man before him. He was certainly a noble, or a high-ranking merchant if he believed himself capable of having his way after a few pretty words. "I'm not sure that would be wise."

"Ah, you are to be wed?"

"No." Rafe laughed at the mere idea. No one would want him, not after the coming days.

"Oh?" His partner drew him in close, and that dream from so long ago came back to Rafe. The dance he'd shared with a stranger of his mind, how they'd drawn close, too close.

Rafe pulled back a little. "I'm thinking of traveling, and I don't know when I might return."

"Not even for your sister's wedding?"

Rafe stumbled at the innocent question, staring wide-eyed at the man before him. "What?"

"Ah, forgive me. My tongue runs away from me at times." His partner looked contrite, but Rafe still wanted to know what he meant. It must have shown on his face. "I saw the way Lord Shaften looked at your sister, and she him. When you were dancing with the children I inquired after her, and Henry mentioned we might be hearing wedding bells soon. Was it meant to be a secret?"

Rafe shook his head, looking around to see if he couldn't spot his mother. Hopefully she wouldn't have heard such a rumor. It might derail his plans. "We haven't had a chance to write up a marriage contract."

"Marriage contract?" His partner's brow furrowed. "Why would you want one of those?"

Nerves began to tingle beneath his skin, instinct warning him from speaking, but he felt silence would somehow damn him. "It is because I am newly the head of our family, and I fear our mother would not approve, so a marriage contract would have more sway in the present environment than words between gentlemen."

"Ah." His partner nodded his head. "I understand. If you are in need of assistance, please ask."

"Are you a lawyer?" Rafe hadn't thought of that, though it might explain the apparent self-import the man placed on himself.

His partner chuckled as he twirled Rafe into a complicated series of steps. "Something like that."

Rafe didn't understand, but he needed to concentrate on his footwork and not what the man before him meant. He could decide on the meaning of the words later. Maybe when he was back home in bed and sleep eluded him. As the song ended, Rafe made to pull away, but his partner held him fast, giving him a cheeky grin as he led him into the next dance.

"Now, I've been curious."

Rafe lifted an eyebrow, waiting for more. "Yes?"

"Why is it that someone as beautiful as you doesn't have men and women throwing themselves at your feet?"

He was pulled in close as they swirled past a slow moving couple. After the steps slowed, his partner continued to stare, waiting for an answer. Only, Rafe didn't know what to say. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, there must be a reason. Do you snore?"

Rafe chuckled. "I wouldn't know. No one has shared my room since I was a small boy."

"Are you a night walker?" his partner teased.

Rafe thought about it. He guessed he could be called such. "Sometimes."

"Well," his partner huffed, "there must be something."

With a shake of his head, Rafe turned the tables, taking over the lead of the dance as he took his partner through a series of steps that drew them apart and pulled them together.

"It can't be your dancing. That's superb."

"Maybe it's because I'm not a nice man," Rafe quipped, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.

"How so?"

No words would form, and he couldn't look the man before him in the eyes. They slowed, moving to the edge of the floor even though Rafe just wanted to go back to the center, to the playful banter from before.

"How so?" The words were soft, a torture so exquisite as they promised to release Rafe from his years of burden.

How could he resist?

"I manipulate others. I lie. I hide myself so no one can see." He couldn't look up, could only move to the slow pace they'd set themselves. Rafe wanted to pull away, but he found himself lacking the strength to do so.

"As you manipulated Lord Shaften and your sister? I believe that's more a kindness for both of them than a strike against your character."

Bitter laughter bubbled past Rafe's lips before he could seal the sound away. "I've manipulated those around me since I was seven. I've lied in the process so no one can uncover what I've done." He looked up then, for some reason wanting this man, this fantasy turned reality, to believe him. "I built a business for myself before I was legally old enough, spinning lies so no one could find my true age. I manipulated those in my own house to believe me a frivolous idiot who abused someone precious so I could remain unscathed and so they would have an easier time moving through the day-to-day chores thrust upon them by a cruel twist of fate. I've maneuvered my sister toward a man so she will be out of the clutches of our mother. I have changed the strings of fate to protect myself. All I've done has been to protect me, because the people I hold dear are my weakness, and I can't have a weakness."

He pulled back, finding the strength to release himself from the man who'd let him unburden himself, but he couldn't stay. He turned away from the man who'd somehow, with a few simple words, allowed Rafe a moment to admit who he was. A few steps were all he could take before he saw her.

On the stairs, in a flowing gown that was several light shades of blue, stood Greta, a dark blue mask poised on her face. She looked beautiful, her lightly bronzed color complemented by the blue and the diamonds she wore. Rafe heard several people around him gasp at the sight of Greta, and when he turned, he saw his fantasy staring at her, enchanted by the image she presented. And who wouldn't be? A part of himself crumbled, and he wanted to laugh bitter tears as he realized where he'd met the man. It had been with Mr. Monel, when he'd brought the prince and marquess.

He'd been dancing with the prince, and he hadn't known it. Rafe looked back at Greta. Yes, the prince would do right by her. He knew it.

So why did he feel so bitter?

It was a gorgeous day for a wedding, Rafe had to give it to Raquel. Once the marriage contract had been signed the day after the royal ball, his sister had celebrated. Congratulating him. He'd been so proud of his sister, of himself. And he'd gone home, given the deed to the house to Greta along with her father's money, and had the local guards evict his mother. It had hurt, listening to the words she'd thrown at him, but he'd stared at her, cold and indifferent, until she'd gone. Then he'd turned to Greta, asked that she give Raquel and himself time to remove their belongs, bowed, and left. Her fate was in her own hands now, as it should have been from the beginning.

The house he'd hoped to buy was in his name by the end of that same day, and his sister's dowry settled in an account for after the marriage. He hadn't had enough money to do much else, though he'd had some in case an emergency cropped up, such as the need for a cart so he could haul his belongs to his new home, storing Raquel's on the lower floors until after her wedding. The cart had also been used to move Jaq and his family into Rafe's home. They'd had a long talk, Rafe, Jaq, and Jaq's mother, and Rafe had taken Jaq's mother aside to let her know what he had done in the past. She, Venda bless her, had held his hand and told him he was a good boy. It had healed a part of himself Rafe had long given up hope of ever fixing. Soon after, word of what he had done to his mother spread quickly, and no one knew what to do.

Greta, bless her, did. She'd gone around making sure everyone knew what he'd done for her over the years, and soon enough, Duncan had stepped forward, having his daughter, who'd recently returned from abroad, translate his handwriting. Surprisingly enough, the stable master and gardener told everyone of how Rafe had treated the plants and animals, only going near them when he thought no one was around which was, apparently, a clear indication that he'd been playing a part to keep everyone safe.

Rafe had felt ashamed at all the praise because he didn't deserve it. He'd harmed an innocent woman for most of her life, lied to everyone around him, and destroyed his mother. No, he didn't deserve their praise.

Which was why he'd decided that after his sister was happily married, he'd leave. Take one of his ships and just sail. See more of the world, meet the people who've never met him, who wouldn't know how cruel he could be. Maybe, while out on the sea, he'd change himself. Find himself. He didn't think he could do that here. Not with everything he'd done and everything he hadn't done chewing at the edges of his mind. He knew the sea was only a temporary escape, that he couldn't run from himself, but he needed a little peace.

He smiled as he saw Greta arrive. None of them had been sure if she'd want to appear, not after all that had happened and not after her time at the ball, where everyone said she spent the evening with the prince.

She spotted him before he could duck away, offer assistance somewhere, and her bright smile hurt as she made her way through the small crowd to his side, flinging her arms around his neck and holding him close. "Rafe. Brother."

He held her close, then gently pushed her away. A throat cleared, and Rafe glanced over her shoulder, trying to figure out where the prince was.

"Ah." Greta giggled, taking one of the man's hands. "Brother, I'd like you to meet Marquess Olto Denath."

This… was not what he had expected. "Marquess? I thought…" The words wouldn't leave his throat. This wasn't the man he'd danced with. This was not the prince.

She giggled again, light and airy, a sound he couldn't remember hearing after her father had passed. "You thought I was with the prince? It seems these two," she nudged the marquess, "are confused for each other by people who haven't been introduced to them before. I danced with the prince, but only one dance. Then I was swept off my feet by this rogue."

Olto looked slightly abashed. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine." Rafe bowed, still a bit confused at the turn of events and why his heart felt lighter for the first time in far too long.

"Oh, don't do that," Greta tsked, dragging him from his bow and wrapping her arms around him for a brief squeeze. "We're family."

Confusion seemed to be his perpetual state now, until Greta wiggled her fingers in front of her face, then terror swamped through him.

"But… you've only just met!" It was all too strange. The matter was not helped by a loud squeal behind him as his sister tried to sneak up on him.

"Is that what I think it is?" Raquel asked as she shoved past Rafe and took Greta's hand in her own.

Greta nodded her head, giggling as she beamed at them. "I didn't want to ruin your big day, but I couldn't keep it in."

Raquel waved her hand as if to dismiss the words. "None of that. As you said, we are family." Then Raquel looked at her, her face serious. "We are family?"

Tears welled in Greta's eyes, and Rafe was half-tempted to turn away, but this was his… family, no matter how unconventional it all was. "Yes," Greta whispered as she pulled Raquel close. "We're family."

Someone needed to stop them before they got started, and Olto didn't look any more comfortable than Rafe. "All right, that's enough of that. Don't want the bride to be crying before she sees her groom."

Raquel turned to him with a laugh, gently thumping her fist against his arm. "Trust you to ruin the moment."

Rafe shrugged his shoulders and gave them both a sheepish grin. "I couldn't stand the thought of you both crying." He cast a sidelong glance at Olto. "And I don't think I was the only one."

"Don't bring me into this." Olto held his hands up in surrender of a confrontation that would never occur, because at that moment, Raquel gasped, grabbed Greta and Olto by their hands, and dragged them away.

"What the…" Rafe looked to where his sister's gaze had last been and felt his senses leave him.