A Clandestine Courtship by Allison Lane Page B

only surprise had been the way James had studied every move and analyzed every word. Had he feared his friends would reveal some secret? Or were her earlier suspicions correct? If he were like John, then his friends would be like Frederick. Hiding their faults could be a ploy to inflict pain by winning their regard before crushing their spirits.
    She didn’t want to believe it, but ignoring the possibility could be dangerous. Somehow, she must discover his ultimate intentions. Their conversation during that morning call had merely raised new questions.
    They had retired to a corner of the drawing room. He had still been harping on John’s recent visits, demanding a detailed list of who his brother had met.
    “How should I know?” she’d finally burst out, though she managed to keep her voice pitched low so the others would not hear. “I avoided him as much as possible, for I despised the man.”
    “But he was your husband’s closest friend. You must have seen him often.”
    She glared at him. “Yes, he was Frederick’s friend and led him into trouble more often than not. But even when Frederick was home, John never visited here.”
    “Why? Was your husband afraid you preferred him?”
    She wanted to strike him, but a lady could not do so. And drawing attention to them would raise questions she did not want to answer. Her relationship with her husband was no one’s business.
    James still believed she had succumbed to John’s wiles, despite his soothing words at their last meeting. Frederick would never have jumped to such an unwarranted conclusion. If he had considered the question at all, he would have feared that she might slip a knife into John’s back if he visited Northfield. She had warned him against John too often for him to mistake her feelings.
    “Frederick was understandably concerned for his sisters’ reputations,” she finally claimed, though she doubted he had cared one way or the other. “Allowing John near them would have courted disaster.”
    “Yet he left them in your charge.”
    Red haze pulsed before her eyes. “Do you practice being offensive or does it come naturally? I rue the day I ever considered you superior to your brother.”
    “How dare you?” he snapped.
    “At least I base my judgments on the evidence of my own eyes instead of proving my gullibility by accepting the unsubstantiated claims of chronic liars.” She immediately regretted the outburst, but it was too late to recall the words.
    “Chronic liars?” He seemed on the verge of losing his temper.
    She forced control on her voice, but something prodded her to continue. For years, she and every other person in the district had avoided talking about John. Though he was gone, the fear remained. Why else had she softened her condemnation when James had cornered her the first time? But it was time to lay the past to rest. If James wanted the unvarnished truth, she must provide it.
    “John never spoke an honest word in his life, even when telling the truth would have been easier. But he was your family, so of course you believed him. Just as you accept every sensationalized tale Mrs. Bridwell spouts. After all, she is a vicar’s wife, so why would she lie?”
    “I am aware that John frequently exaggerated,” he protested. “And I know very well that Mrs. Bridwell is overly judgmental, but those are not my only sources.”
    “What you don’t accept is that John was an unconscionable bully who would employ any tactic to achieve his goals. And one of his goals was to inflict as much pain as possible. Not only was he a liar who frequently fabricated stories out of whole cloth, but he intimidated everyone he met. No one dared counter him. If he’d said the sky was green, people would have rushed to spread the word lest he destroy them for daring to oppose him. If a lie is repeated often enough, people accept it as truth. Even if they doubt the details, the core remains viable – where there is smoke, there must be