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“Agreed,” Charlie said, following after Gray and helping to move boxes.

“Either way, Barbara could do with a damn good spanking right about now.”

Gray meant it as an off-hand jest. He was shocked when Charlie practically shouted, “Donotsay that! Never say that.”

Whether it was the frustration of the moment or the tension of the last week, nay, the last seven years, Gray did not appreciate being shouted at.

“Kindly do not raise your voice at me,” he fired back, whipping around to glare at Charlie. “I am not the difficult one in this situation.”

“Are you suggesting I am?” Charlie demanded, his eyes going wide and his nostrils flaring.

All at once, the good will that had been built between the two of them in the last day or so crackled as if it would burst into flames and vanish. Every slight of the past and every nasty look in the present flew back into Gray’s thoughts, making him want to fight and defend himself.

Or perhaps it was that the burst of energy from Charlie reminded Gray of how explosive things could be between the two of them.

Either way, he did not expect for Charlie to sigh, pinch the bridge of his nose, and say, “I am sorry.” More than that, Charlie sat heavily against an old table that was piled with a cluster of other disused furniture, slumping his shoulders. “I should not shout,” he said. “It is just that?—”

Charlie glanced up at Gray. In an instant, the familiar venom Gray had felt for Charlie since his betrayal seeped off into careful confusion. He did not know what to do with the new, unsettled feelings that replaced it, so he crossed his arms and leaned against the stack of trunks opposite Charlie.

He did not even need to say anything to prompt Charlie to speak and explain himself. “Our father was violent,” Charlie said. “Mostly when he was in his cups, but sometimes not. I did the best I could to take the blows for Barbara, but I was not always there to stand between them.”

Charlie’s confession made the bottom fall out of Gray’s stomach. He was instantly filled with fury that anyone would raise a hand to someone as sweet as Barbara, particularly when she was just a child. More than that, something in his soul hurt that he was just hearing this truth now.

“You never told me,” he said quietly.

Charlie shrugged. “It was over before we met,” he said. “Father died before I left for Cambridge. Barbara was safe in the care of relatives on our mother’s side by then. And…I was embarrassed to admit something so shameful at that age.”

“There is nothing shameful in having an abusive father,” Gray said, his body going hot with anger for the people he loved. “Nothing shameful for you, at least. Your father should have been ashamed to death.”

“Yes, well, he was drunk to death in the end,” Charlie said. “But not before leaving scars on my sister.”

Gray felt sick.

“Not physical scars, mind you,” Charlie rushed to correct himself. “But sometimes invisible scars leave a deeper mark.”

“I am sorry I said what I did,” Gray quickly apologized. “I would not have, had I known.”

Charlie grunted and nodded. He was silent for a moment before going on with, “I cannot help but feel that everythingis connected. Barbara’s current state of upset, her reluctance to reconcile with Robert, her immature approach toward this house party. I cannot help but feel she is behaving in such a way because I did not do enough to make her feel safe and content when we were younger.”

“You think that this is your fault?” Gray asked, beyond surprised. When Charlie sent him a guilty look, he pushed off the pile of trunks and shifted to sit beside him. “You have done everything to give Barbara a happy life,” he insisted, chest aching at the idea that Charlie might feel even a little bit inadequate. “You’ve been like a brother and father both to her. I’ve seen the way you are with her, both now and when we were at Cambridge. You would bring down the stars for her. You would give up your life for her. You would?—”

Gray stopped as the truth hit him. It felt like taking a crossbow bolt to his heart.

Charlie would give up everything for his sister. Everything including a deep, passionate love that would have seen him locked up in prison, or at the very least humiliated in society, if it had been discovered. He would sacrifice himself and what he wanted if he thought it would protect Barbara from even the slightest hint of scandal.

Charlie must have seen the realization dawn in Gray’s eyes. He lowered his head and let out a breath as if he’d been holding it for the last seven years.

“You threw me off to protect Barbara,” Gray whispered.

The pain of being rejected was still there. It still stung, but now it had a reason behind it.

“Comstock suspected,” Charlie said quietly, not looking up. “He was not the only one. Rumors were already swirling. And then Barbara sent me a letter filled with grief because she had not been invited to some silly ball.”

“And you saw her future in that letter if we had carried on,” Gray said, his heart pounding and his voice hoarse.

Charlie finally looked up at him. “I could not put my own happiness above hers. Not if it meant ruination for her. Barbara adores company. She would have suffered if she had been denied it.”

Gray could only sit there, his mouth hanging open as seven years of anger dissolved into dust. He also adored Barbara, though she’d only been his sister for six months. Even still, he would have gone to the ends of the earth to make her happy, just as he would have done for any of his true sisters or brothers.