Page 74 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
SIXTEEN
“What are you doing here?”
Her brother had not bothered to look up from his work. His back was to the door and Maddy would have sworn she had been quiet.
“I asked you a question, girl. Are you deaf or just impertinent?”
She moved closer to see what he was shielding with his body. “Probably the latter. What are you doing?” She peered over his shoulder and gasped. “Is that— That’s not… human?”
Tipton’s lips curved in grim amusement. “Mr. Kelly would be hurt to be referred to in such a manner. A man who sacrifices himself for science should be respected.”
An old sheet had been thrown over the lower half of the dead man’s body. Maddy placed the handkerchief she had been holding to her nose. Seeing a half-naked corpse was not distressing in itself as much as viewing the large gaping hole that used to be his chest. “The smell is just dreadful. How can you tolerate it?”
“It is amazing what you can put up with when you have no choice.”
It did not take the wisdom of age to know his statement could be applied to many circumstances, herself included. “Why do you do it? Cut up the dead, I mean.”
Tipton glanced at her, but her attention was focused on the corpse. “What would you say if I told you I do it because it amuses me? According to the rumors, I linger at deathbeds trying to capture their souls, then sup on their hearts.”
Seeing him hovered over a corpse, she could understand why people would believe such tales. There was something eerie about a man who preferred the dead to the living. “I cannot believe Devona would bind herself to a fiend.”
He chuckled. “Shallow praise, indeed. And indirect. What do you believe, Madeleina?” his voice echoed in the quiet, tomblike room.
She resisted the urge to hug her ribs, a useless attempt to banish her feelings of trepidation. “I think you enjoy your reputation too much.”
His brow lifted at her observation. “My wife has accused me of the same.” Efficient hands probed the chest cavity.
Maddy forced her gaze to return to his face. “Mama said you changed after the incident.”
“The incident. You make it sound like I committed an unforgivable public faux pas. My family buried me alive. It was blind luck there were two greedy men waiting around my grave to dig me up. Otherwise, this conversation would not be taking place.”
Maddy flinched at the bitterness in his tone. Once there were two brothers who bore the Wyman name. One was long dead, the other dead in heart, and she really knew nothing of either. “There was a sickness. It took many in the parish. Everyone thought they were going to die. Their mistake was understandable.”
Tipton halted his exploration. Dropping the small metal probe into a basin, he turned to her, his bloodied hands clamped into fists. “You know nothing. Your view has been tainted since your birth by Jocelyn.”
“I speak not of our mother, but of our grandmother.”
“Mum? She died when you were barely out of napkins.”
His voice and posture had subtly changed at the mention of their grandmother. There was at least one family member worthy of his affection. “I am surprised you were aware, since you did not remain at Foxenclover or in England for that matter.”
He muttered something under his breath that she could not understand. “If you believe I had a choice, you are mistaken.” He picked up his instrument and began to work again. “I will tolerate you in my house because my wife wishes it. Do not mistake the indulgence as an opportunity to befriend me. I have no desire to know you, Sister.”
Had that been her intention? If so, it had been an unconscious one. Still, his words struck at her like blows. She did not know she had allowed her heart to become as exposed as Mr. Kelly’s. “You despise me. Why? What have I ever done to you?” she demanded.
“You exist.”
Maddy sucked in her breath and took a step back. She had never been so openly hated before. “You blame me for something I had no control over? It would make more sense to blame our parents.”
“I have shocked you,” he observed, unmoved by her distress. “Truth is a rare commodity at Foxenclover. If it comforts you later when you cry into your pillow, I will admit that it is not you personally whom I despise.”
“Small comfort to go along with my shallow praise.” She blinked, almost surprised to feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. Idiot. She never cried. “You speak of truth, hate, symbolism, and choices, but you are forgetting one thing.” She took a few breaths to keep from crying openly in front of him.
“What?”
“Cowardice. You ran away from your home and birthright. It is much easier to blame an unborn sibling or a grief-stricken mother and grandmother than to face up to the fact you were too weak to do your duty by them!”
Tipton glared at her. In her wild imagination, she could almost feel his tightening fingers at her throat. He certainly seemed as though he were sizing her up for his dissecting table. “Your conception was nothing more than a replacement. A replacement for the beloved son who had died, and the one they thought possessed by the devil. It must have been such a disappointment to them that you were born female.”
