Page 76 of The Trouble with Tweed

Instead, it was her brother William, who swept her from head to toe with a glance. “Your sisters are worried about you,” he said. “They think that you’ve been overcome by some sort of plague. Except for Beatrice, who’s insinuated that perhaps you have some sort of nervous disorder instead.”

Claire rolled her eyes. Beatrice would jump to such a conclusion.

He continued, “But you and I both know that you would have called for the physician by now if you weren’t ceratin as to the source of your complaint.”

He sat in one of the armchairs before her fire and stared at her.

Claire sighed. She knew he wouldn’t leave until he was satisfied with her explanation.

“What do you know of Lady Berkshire?” she said.

William’s brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“Typical of you,” she said, “to answer a question with one of your own.”

“Typical of you not to be honest about why you’re asking.”

Claire sighed. “Humor me, Brother.”

“Very well.” He threaded his fingers together and placed them behind his head. “No gentleman of any worldly experience would be caught alone with that woman, not unless he wanted his virtue stolen forcibly.”

“Truly?”

He scoffed. “You act as if only men can be lecherous, Claire, a position that speaks of lack of experience as well as a lack of imagination.”

“Are you saying that the dowager countess is—” She trailed off, not knowing how to finish such a sentence.

“I’m saying that, like many men whom you rightfully disdain, she is secure in her fortune, has no plans to marry, and toys with those who do. It’s not only young ladies who can be victimized.”

Claire frowned. He was right, though before Michael mentioned it, she’d never considered such a possibility. She found it difficult to believe such a thing, and yet she knew that Michael and William weren’t liars. They must be telling the truth in this matter.

William huffed a mirthless chuckle. “I know of one gentleman who only escaped her grasp because she had him by the cravat, and he was able to get free of the thing and leave the silk hanging in her fingertips as he made a run for it.”

She stood staring unseeing out the window as she contemplated the idea for long moments.

William finally said, “What I want to know is why you’re asking me about this woman. Has she injured you in some way?” William seemed equal parts confused and angered by the notion.

“Not me, no.” She shook her head.

“Lord Rutheridge, then.”

Claire’s frown deepened. She couldn’t bring herself to confirm it and betray Michael’s confidence, but she wouldn’t lie to William by denying it, either.

His fingers drummed a slow cadence against the carved wood of the armchair. “I quite like Rutheridge, you know.”

“Do you?”

He gave a solemn nod that impressed upon her the seriousness of his words. “I’ve never heard a bad thing about the man. You seem to have painted him as a rake in your mind, but he isn’t one. Not that I can tell.”

“And how would you know?”

William gave a slow smile. “Do you honestly think that I would let a gentleman get within a league of this house without checking into him thoroughly? By the first time you took tea with his mother and sister, I had a very complete file on him.”

“I knew you were the reason behind Lily’s disappearing suitors,” she said triumphantly.

William’s smile turned kind. “Regardless of how strained our relationship might have been in the past, you are my sister, and I care for you.”

“So you don’t think Michael’s a rake like Richard was?” Claire winced; she felt she’d given too much away with the question.