Page 4 of The Sound of Seduction
“Wendy, you seem flushed,” Andre chimed in, stepping forward. “Are you feverish?” He reached a hand toward her forehead.
Stan’s jaw tightened.She’s not a child. Leave her be.
“Here, allow me.” Alfie intercepted, taking a gentle but confident hold of her wrist to feel her pulse. His expression barely shifted, though he hummed softly. “A bit quick,” he noted.
“Perhaps you should rest instead of going shopping with the ladies,” Nick suggested, crossing his arms in that insufferably practical manner of his.
Stan had to fight back a bitter laugh. If his own sister came into the room flushed and flustered in such a way, he might well have chalked it up to summer heat or exertion—anything to avoid entertaining the presence of a suitor. Of course, Nick likely didn’t seehimas anything resembling a suitor.
Would he even allow it, though? Would Nick approve, knowing Stan’s rank, his known ties to danger, and his carefully veiled reputation as a man who left no traces? Stan knew Nick was no fool, unlikely to be dazzled by a title or royal lineage. He’d remarked—more times than Stan cared to recall—that being a prince was as much a burden as it was a danger and not something to envy. Stan had no illusions about earning Nick’s blessing to court his sister. And who could blame him? To Nick, he likely seemed more a weapon to protect against, than a man worthy of his sister’s heart—a testament to Nick’s fierce love as a brother, even if it made Stan’s path to Wendy all the more impossible.
Stan knew that their parents were no longer alive, leaving Nick as her only family. His wife, Lady Philippa Pemberton—Pippa for short—was the daughter of an Earl and an heiress with riches rivaling the Crown, though Stan was keenly aware of how carefully Wendy balanced her ties to nobility with her devotion to a simpler life among her patients, friends, and extended family. As for protection, the beautiful, capable nurse had the unofficial fortress of the fine doctors stationed at 87 Harley Street—some of the best—and they all seemed to guard her withthe same vigilance one might a precious heirloom. And if Stan weren’t an intruder in her innocent and shielded world, he’d simply be happy that she was cared for. The problem was, he wanted to be looking after her and taking care of her himself.
“Wendy, if you wish, I can brew some eucalyptus tea,” Alfie said gently.
“And I’ll fetch some ice to cool you down,” Andre added, already half-turning toward the door.
“No!” Wendy’s voice rose abruptly as she pulled her hands free from Alfie’s grasp. Her blush deepened even more, and her eyes fluttered briefly toward Stan before shooting downward again. “I said I’m fine,” she insisted, her voice firmer this time. Too firm, perhaps—but necessary. If she lost her composure now, if anyone guessed why… it wouldn’t just be her pride on the line. It would be the practice. Nick’s legacy. Everything that mattered in her life.Not me.
“Are you certain, little sis?” Nick pressed, clearly unconvinced.
“Nick!” she all but groaned, rolled her eyes, and shifted. Her shoes scraped the floor as she stepped away, gaze fixed downward, her cheeks still flushed. Each glance from Stan felt like exposure. She couldn’t let anyone guess what stirred inside her. Not when a scandal could ruin everything. Still, her eyes didn’t leave the hardwood floor as she straightened, a flush still staining her cheeks, like ripe peaches he wanted to reach for and taste.
Stop pining after her!
Stan rubbed his forehead, as if the tension between them could be wiped away. But it lingered—thick, and dangerous. Without saying a word, she turned and strode toward the doorway, her skirts swishing with a defiance that felt aimed at him.
Stan’s eyes followed her, unable to look away. His chest tightened as he caught the smallest tremor in her hand when it brushed the doorframe for balance, her resolve strong but fragile in that fleeting moment.
Every part of him ached to follow—to close the space between them, pull her into his arms, and promise her the safety and comfort she deserved. He could almost sense the way she’d fit against him, could already hear the steadier rhythm her breathing would find there. But he stood frozen, his own reason bearing down on him.
It would only put her in harm’s way. The harder he held on, the sharper he’d carve her path into the danger that loomed always just behind him.
She vanished down the corridor, taking the warmth of the room with her, leaving in its place the cold certainty he fought to live with every day—he had to let her go to keep her safe. But it hurt to watch her leave.
He inhaled deeply—steadying himself before his own composure shattered outright.
Nick tilted his head, watching Wendy’s departure as he stood rooted in place. “Well,” he said, plucking at his cuff. “She’s somewhere between perfectly fine and completely overworked.”
“She must be worried because of the danger,” Andre said. “I warned you!”
“You can’t warn us from the storm that’s List because we can control him as little as the weather,” Alfie said and tapped his foot on the floor as if List would come and strike any moment. “And he could strike us with the force of a lighting strike at any moment!”
“We know he will seek revenge for what we did. We should never have given him that truth serum and forced him to give up half his secrets. Who knows what the other half bears?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly, his lipspressing into a thin line as though bracing himself to deliver grim news he wished he didn’t have to share. “And she knows it, too. List preys on women.” Nick swallowed visibly and glanced toward the door through which Wendy had just left. “And this leaves us all vulnerable. Pippa, Bea, and Wendy are—”
“Don’t say it!” Alfie held his hand up. “I should have never listened to you and made the truth serum for him. It’s because of me that we are in this situation.”
“Not even a little bit, Alfie,” Stan said. “I have it on good authority that he was already targeting Felix Leafley.”
“What does he want from a dentist?” Andre said.
“It’s not what but who.” Stan lowered his voice. “Felix’s suppliers are the Jewish jewelers. The Crown Jewelers. List is cutting their supplies off by stealing from my family and my people in Transylvania.”
“I thought he was exploiting the gold mines in your region without—” but Andre couldn’t finish. Nick slapped his forehead. “No! Please tell me that isn’t true!”
“Oh, but it is.” Stan cleared his throat. “List is stealing from Transylvania’s gold mines and trying to blame it on the trade route of our Jewish friends! How am I supposed to protect the people of Transylvania, preserve the trade route, and stop List from exploiting innocent people as scapegoats? The Jews have done nothing wrong, and List has no right to embezzle the gold fromourmines!”
“So if he succeeds, then Felix will be seen as little more than a thief for the Ton.” Alfie lifted his chin as understanding dawned. “It would ruin us all.”
