His Wicked Charm

He was too late. He knew it with a certainty that closed his throat: he would fail. Con ran toward the window, but he didn’t move. The needles on the compasses began to whirl. Running, gasping, he reached out, knowing he’d never reach it in time. Someone screamed.

Con’s eyes flew open, and he jerked upright in the bed. His lungs labored in his chest, his heart thundering, and he clenched his muscles, fists curled so tightly his fingernails bit into his palms. Sweat dried cold on his skin.

It was a dream.

He glanced around him. He was in his own bed, in his own room. It was only a dream.

Through the open doorway to the adjoining sitting room, he could see Wellie perched in his cage, regarding Con with bright black eyes. That scream must have been the parrot’s screech.

The bird moved from foot to foot and rasped out, “Wellie. Good bird.”

“Yes. Good bird.” Con’s voice came out almost as hoarse as Wellington’s. He sank back onto his pillow, closing his eyes. It had been nothing but a bad dream and easily explained—today was Alex’s wedding day. He was worried about oversleeping and failing in his duties. The problem was he’d been having the exact same nightmare for weeks.

CHAPTER ONE

WHEN CON AWOKE AGAIN, sunlight was shooting through a crack in the drapes straight into his eyes. For the second time, he bolted upright. Heaven help him. After all that, he’d overslept. He jumped out of bed and began to shave.

Wellington called Con’s name and flew into the room, taking up his favorite position atop a bedpost. “You wretched bird—screeching like a banshee in the middle of the night, yet not a word when it’s time to get up.”

Wellie let out a noise that sounded disturbingly like human laughter. Con grinned and patted his shoulder for Wellie to perch on it. Con stroked a finger down the parrot’s back.

“It’s just you and me now, boy,” he said softly. “Alex is going on to better things.”

There was an odd pang in his chest; Con had felt it more than once lately. He couldn’t be happier for his twin—Sabrina was perfect for Alex and loved him madly. Alex was over the moon about marrying her. There was nothing in the world Con wanted more than his brother’s happiness. And yet…he could not help but feel as if a piece of him was leaving.

With a sigh at his own selfishness, Con set Wellie aside and headed downstairs. He found Alex in the dining room, gazing out the window—shaved, dressed and ready to go eight hours before the ceremony. Casting an eye over his twin, Con said, “Eager or terrified?”

“A little of both.” Alex let out his breath in a whoosh. “Thank God you’re finally up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Con asked, going to the sideboard to fill his plate.

“Because it was four o’clock in the morning. Wellie woke me up screeching, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I didn’t think you’d care to be awakened.”

“Where is everyone?”

“The women have gone to Kyria’s to help with the last-minute preparations. Though what any of them could do to set up a party, I cannot imagine.”

“Mmm. Maybe Thisbe has a formula for it.”

Alex grinned. “Or Megan and Olivia have investigated the subject.”

“I’m sure Mother will enjoy trying to persuade the servants to go on strike.” Con returned to the table.

Alex took a seat across from Con. “Not like Wellie to sound off in the middle of the night like that. One has to wonder what set him off.”

“Does one?”

“Con…did you have that dream again?”

“Yes. It’s not important.”

Alex grunted softly. “It certainly doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite.”

“Little does.” Con gestured toward the pristine expanse of table in front of Alex. “What about you? Have you eaten anything?”

“I had a cup of coffee.”

“No doubt that will calm you down.”

Alex rolled his eyes and went over to pull a piece of toast from the rack. “You’re not going to distract me from your dream.”

“I know. But there’s nothing new to tell. It’s the same dream I’ve had five times now. I’m in a bizarre round room. There are clocks and compasses everywhere, and I have this feeling of absolute dread.” He paused. “Maybe it’s panic rather than dread. I feel as if I’m late. I’m sure it’s just because of the wedding. I’m worried about not getting to the jeweler’s in time for the ring. Keeping this family in line. Being late to the church. All that.”

“I have never in my life known you to be so concerned about being late,” Alex said flatly.

“You’ve never gotten married before.” Con shrugged it off. “Speaking of being late, why the devil are you all turned out in your wedding coat this early? You’ll be creased and stained by the time the ceremony rolls around.”

“I know. I’ll change. It was just… I couldn’t think what else to do.” Alex sighed. “This is going to be the longest day of my life.”

“Why so nervous? You’ve been champing at the bit for weeks. I can’t imagine you’re having second thoughts.”

“Lord, no, nothing like that. But I can’t rid myself of the fear that something will keep it from taking place. That Sabrina will decide to call it off at the last minute.”

“The woman’s mad for you. Anyone can see that.”

“I woke up this morning thinking, what if the Dearborns grab her again?”

“Idiot. She’s at Kyria’s, with all that brood to protect her.”

“I know. Not to mention her friend Miss Holcutt.”

“Indeed. I’d warrant Miss Holcutt could scare off any chap with wicked intentions.”

Alex smiled. “You’re inordinately hard on Lilah.”

“It’s inordinately easy to be hard on Lilah,” Con tossed back.

“I think the reason is you’re also rather sweet on Lilah.” Con’s contemptuous snort only made Alex grin. “Not to mention the fact that she’s the only woman to turn down your advances.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, really? What other girl has told you no when you asked her to take a stroll in the garden? For that matter, what woman has turned you down about anything—excluding our sisters, of course?”

“Dozens, I’m sure.” Con paused. “Well, a few. I’m not universally approved of, you know. You’re the one who’s the perfect model of a marital prize.”

“I’m not the one who’s a charming rogue.”

“I beg your pardon. I am charming, of course, but hardly a rogue.”