A Visit From Sir Nicholas by Victoria Alexander Page A

untimely death was a shock to everyone, but, if you recall, you were not at all your usual self for several months."
    "Yes, of course," she murmured.
    Elizabeth had not forgotten those dark days after Charles's demise. Days filled with unyielding loss and an odd sense of regret and startling revelations. About the man she had married but more about herself. She was exceedingly proud of the fact that she had survived at all and prouder yet that she had grown and become strong and confident. Still, she'd only really done what she'd had to do for her sons and herself. It dawned on her now that if Jonathon had revealed how Charles had intended to safeguard his family's fortune after his demise, she might never have become the woman she had, but would have continued to depend on the men in her life to take care of her every need.
    "Lord, Jonathon." She shook her head. "I was such a fool. I paid no attention whatsoever to matters of finance when Charles was alive."
    "In that, you are not unlike most women."
    "I am not most women." She met her brother's gaze directly. "I didn't truly realize that before Charles's death. I have always understood that I am a descendent of generations of independent, headstrong Effington women, but I never realized the legacy of those ladies until I was forced to draw upon the strength inherent in my own nature. I remember when I was young, vowing that someday I would call on the reserves of intelligence and competence I knew lay within me and live life precisely as I saw fit. I never did when Charles was alive because there was no need for me to do so. Even so," she smiled wryly, "it's extremely upsetting to realize my husband did not know me well enough to trust me."
    "Charles was a fool," Jonathon said in a voice far harder than necessary. Her gaze shot to her brother's.
    "Not to have recognized your intelligence and competence, I mean," Jonathon said quickly. "I, however, coming from the same Effington stock and therefore sharing those gifts of intelligence and competence, not to mention charm," he flashed a quick grin, "can see what a lesser mortal cannot." She laughed. "I suppose it scarcely matters now. All is said and done, and now that I know—" A thought struck her, and she drew her brows together. "Jonathon—"
    "I'd say a brandy is called for at this point." Jonathon jumped to his feet and fairly sprinted toward the cabinet that held Father's supply of fine brandy, and other spirits.
    She raised a brow. "It's rather early in the day for brandy isn't it?"
    "It's later than you imagine," he muttered and pulled open the cabinet doors.
    "Even so, I don't understand what you think we should be celebrating."
    "Sibling affection." His back was to her, and his voice was muffled. "The binding ties of blood. Loyalty."
    "All that and it's barely midday." A teasing note sounded in her voice, but she studied him curiously.
    "Whatever are you up to now, dear brother?"
    "Affection. Blood ties. Loyalty." He returned to his chair, two glasses in one hand and a decanter in the other. "The idea that one should never kill the messenger." He poured a glass and thrust it at her.
    "Forgiveness."
    "Very well, you have my forgiveness." She accepted the glass reluctantly. "But I really don't think—"
    "Do go on, Lizzie, you like brandy. You always have." Jonathon poured a glass for himself and tossed back a long swallow.
    "As do you, apparently." She took a cautious sip of the liquor. While it was far and away too early in the day for such libations, the brandy warmed her nicely. "This is rather lovely on a dreary day like today."
    "Isn't it, though?" Jonathon smiled pleasantly, but there was a distinct glimmer of apprehension in his eyes.
    "Perhaps you'd like more?"
    "This is quite enough, thank you." She laughed. "Honestly, Jonathon, one would think you were trying to get your own sister soused."
    He laughed, a sort of odd, squeaking, uncomfortable sound. "What an amusing thought."
    "Brandy always produces such a