章 59: Chapter 59

The kitchen was warm and fragrant, with all the mod cons, and large enough to contain a table and eight chairs without appearing crowded. Apparently Dorincourt did have money enough.

My nephew, who no longer wore his dinner jacket, stood with a tea towel tucked into the waistband of his trousers. The smile he offered Dorincourt wavered when he saw me. His tongue peeked out to moisten his lips, and his gaze veered from me back toward his lover.

St John had no freckles. Neither had Pamela. His chestnut hair was longer than mine and curled loosely about his shoulders; a silk ribbon that must have secured it dangled over his shoulder, green, matching his eyes, matching my sister’s eyes.

“Robert?”

“Your uncle, James Trevalyan. He says he has to talk to you.”

St John turned pale. “I will not leave here, sir!” His sudden loss of colour emphasized the fading bruise high on his cheek, an unmistakable palm print. I raised my hand, and he flinched away before he could stop himself.