The Unscrupulous Uncle by Allison Lane Page A

endure that. Even worse, there are those who might pretend nothing had changed. That is as good as a slap in the face to my aunt and cousins. It was difficult enough for them to move to a neighborhood where they were unknown. Things would only have been worse if I were seen to be the reason people included them.”
    “After nearly eight years, such an excuse can no longer be valid,” he reminded her.
    “Then perhaps I am a coward,” she admitted angrily. “I cannot face the change in my own status. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
    “Of course not! And I don’t believe it.”
    “Believe it, Damon. There are days when I want to scream in frustration, but we can only play the cards we are dealt. It does no good to swear at the dealer. When things get too bad, I come here. It is wondrously soothing to my spirits. Now enough of me. What have you been up to these last years? I hear you are quite the hero.”
    “Not at all,” he disclaimed. “The real heroes are all dead, so when the government needs to trot someone out as an example, they must choose some poor bastard from the living.”
    “You did not used to be so cynical.”
    “War changes people, mostly for the worse. I do not wish to discuss it.” He paced restlessly around the clearing.
    “Very well.” Her words were conventional, but he could hear the pain at what she could only interpret as another rebuff. Before he could formulate an explanation, her face cleared and her eyes lit with mischief, sending a frisson of warmth through his heart that the Cat he remembered still lived. “Uncle Henry got back last night. And my cousins will be out this afternoon. You can call on him without running the risk of another musicale.”
    He chuckled. “Still looking out for me, Little Cat?”
    “Unless war has destroyed your hearing, you cannot have enjoyed it, however much you praised them.”
    “How well you know me. But praise? They must lack understanding of the English language. I merely agreed with your aunt that I had never heard the like. And you must agree that Drucilla shows great dexterity.”
    “You have become a rogue!”
    “Hardly. Merely displaying manners in the face of trial. Is there nothing you can do to discourage them?”
    “No. They must prove that they are proper ladies by demonstrating their accomplishments. Since neither can set a stitch without knotting every thread in their sewing baskets or paint even the simplest picture well enough that they can identify it themselves the next day, they must rely on music. Be thankful they don’t sing. Even Aunt Eugenia cannot pretend their voices are acceptable.”
    Damon shook his head. “How is Wiggles?” he asked, naming the puppy he had given her before leaving for war.
    Her face softened. “He is fine, though I no longer have him. Aunt Eugenia cannot abide animals, so the Newmans have taken care of him since we heard about Peter. I still see him often. He has become a wily herd dog, helping Sam look after his sheep, though he reserves most of his affection for me.”
    “And Lady Jane?” he asked, referring to her mare.
    “Gone. Uncle Henry sold the stable as soon as he learned how bad finances were.”
    She straightened, putting an end to his questions. “I must go, for there is much to be done today. Do you wish to call on Uncle?”
    “Not yet. I must see how Mr. Connors goes on.” And he needed some information before he faced Lord Braxton. Too many things didn’t add up. They could not all be passed off as coincidence.
    Catherine nodded. “Please convey my greetings to Mr. Connors and wish him a speedy recovery. I doubt I can visit him for several days. Mrs. Newman needs help.”
    Damon raised a brow and she explained. “I will arrange care,” he offered. “It is the least I can do.” Peter would be appalled at such neglect.
    Thanking him, she disappeared into the woods.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Catherine climbed into bed, finally able to relax. Aunt Eugenia had ordered a