“His mother suggested he was. I should have known better than to trust her then, but had I not done so…” Her words trailed off as she realized what she had been about to say.
Far more than she could afford to divulge.
“If you had not done so, then you never would have met me,” Wolf finished for her.
“No,” she agreed quietly. “I would not have.”
He surprised her by reaching across the table and settling his hand over hers. “I’m glad you trusted her long enough for it to lead you to me, Countess.”
She told herself that she should withdraw from his touch. She admonished herself that this was the last time she dared to steal away and be alone with Wolf Sutton. This had to be their farewell.
But she could not pull away. Instead, she stroked the edge of his palm with her thumb, grateful she had met him. Thankful for his presence, his comforting touch. For him, full stop.
With her free hand, she reached for her wine, and then took a quick, fortifying sip. “I am glad, too.”
“This half brother of yours,” Wolf said, his hand lingering over hers. “What is his surname? Is it the same as the mother’s, Courteney?”
“No,” she said. “Courteney is the name of a more recent husband or protector of hers, I believe. Avery’s surname is Tierney.”
Wolf stiffened, the hand atop hers going still. “Tierney?”
She searched his hazel gaze, trying to fathom the reason for his sudden, abrupt change of demeanor. “Does the name mean something to you? Has an Avery Tierney ever been in your employ?”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know of an Avery Tierney. But I do know of a cove named Archer Tierney.”
Hope rose, despite the first name being different. “Do you know him? I have not seen Avery in years, but he has dark hair similar to mine. I expect him to be tall as our father was. His eyes are green as well.”
His jaw hardened. “I’m sorry, love. I haven’t seen him, so I can’t say. But my brother Hart has.”
Could it be that she was closer to finding her brother after all, despite the years and Mrs. Courteney’s unreliability?
She slid her hand from beneath Wolf’s and clutched it, attempting to temper her excitement and yet failing. “You will ask him, then? For me?”
“Don’t get yourself too excited. Even if he does share the same hair and eyes, it ain’t enough to mean he’s your brother. And even if he were…” Wolf paused, as if he were reluctant to finish his thought.
“If he were?” she prodded, desperate to know, overwhelmed with the possibility she could find Avery after all, and that he was indeed somehow connected to the world of The Sinner’s Palace.
“He ain’t a good man, Archer Tierney,” Wolf warned solemnly. “Not the sort of cove you’d be wanting to know.”
If Avery was indeed calling himself Archer Tierney now, she could only begin to imagine the reason. Had he been desperate to escape his mother’s clutches? Had Mrs. Courteney ever truly known where Avery was? And just what manner of man was Archer Tierney, for Wolf to make him sound like such a desperate villain?
Her heart tripped over itself in eagerness, along with her thoughts. It required all the effort she possessed to calm them and make sense of the wild musings. “Still, you will ask your brother for me, won’t you? Perhaps even arrange a meeting with this Archer Tierney fellow, so that I might speak with him.”
Granville’s fury would know no bounds were he ever to discover such duplicity on her behalf.
“I’ll do what I can, but I make no promises,” Wolf told her, his voice grim as his expression. “Tierney has disappeared.”
The incipient optimism withered like a rose in winter. “Disappeared?”
“Aye.” He gave another tense nod. “We’ve been seeking the rogue for a different reason. He’s a ruthless moneylender, and he’s involved one of my brothers in bad business of some sort. We ain’t certain what just yet. It may take us some time to find him again.”
“I have time.” She had nothing but time. An endless, lonely expanse of it awaiting her. Speaking of which, she likely needed to return to the ball. “It would mean a great deal to me if you would let me know if you are able to find him, Wolf.”
“Is that all that would mean a great deal to you, Countess?” he asked, sliding his hand away from hers at last as a new coolness came over his manner.
“No,” she admitted, despite every intention otherwise. “You do as well. But you know I cannot…”
“And yet, you did.” He gestured in the direction of the office they had so recently despoiled. “We did.”
Again. Yes, she had. She was weak for him. So very weak. But she had to be strong. Much, much stronger. For Edwin’s sake.
“I must take care,” she managed quietly. “For my son.”
“Aye, the lad must come first.” The bitterness had fled Wolf’s countenance at the mentioning of Edwin. “I understand. You’re a good mother, Portia. A good sister, too.”
His words sent another sharp stab of longing through her. Not desire this time, but rather, a longing to be free. Free to be with Wolf as she wished, without fear of discovery and the ramifications that would inevitably come if Granville discovered what she was doing.
“Thank you,” she managed past a prick of rising tears. “You are kind to say so.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “I’m not kind, love. I’m greedy. I want more of you, even though I know I can’t ’ave you.”
The missing h so noticeable in his speech told her, even more than his words, that Wolf meant what he was saying. When his customary polish slipped, his emotions were involved. Though whether the emotion was displeasure, desire, or something else entirely, she could not say.
“I wish it could be different,” she murmured, breaking his steadfast gaze to glance down at the half-consumed plate of food he had laid before her. The hunger that had initially been plaguing her was gone, chased by the dismal knowledge that this would be the last time she was alone with Wolf thus. “But it cannot be. If you are able to find Archer Tierney, please send a note to my friend, the Duchess of Montrose, instead of to me.”