Intertwine by Nichole van Page A

“Your boundless energy is ever a source of annoyance.”
    “True, brother,” James agreed, glancing at the filtered light streaming through the north facing window, “though you must know by now I only live to be an irritation to you. Of course, all would be solved if you would agree to join me in a match or two. We could even use quarterstaffs.” James finished filling his plate and sat himself at the head of the small table.
    “Ha! As if I would engage in something so decidedly common. Sticks have never been a nobleman’s weapon.” Arthur waived his hand dismissively, turning his brown head back to his food. “Swords are all a gentleman needs. ”
    James snorted and cocked an eyebrow at his brother. “Really? Is that truly the reason? Or are you just not in the mood for another of my humblings?”
    As a general rule, Arthur did not engage in activities he could not win.
    “I promise to let you win,” James continued disingenuously. “Well, at least once . . . maybe.” He threw a wink at Georgiana.
    “Oh, James, don’t bait poor Arthur.” Georgiana smiled a tight little grin that said she loved him but did not quite approve.
    Arthur grunted in agreement, not looking up.
    James grinned, his wide mouth crinkling his cheeks. “Please, brother-baiting is a time honored tradition.”
    Georgiana shook her head, turning back to move her eggs around her plate.
    Arthur cleared his throat and changed the topic, raising his gray eyes to James. “And how fares our guest this morning? I overheard the doctor as he left.”
    “She is well. Still unconscious, so we will just wait until she wakes. Fanny is with her and will alert us.” James waited patiently, watching the cogs turn in Arthur’s head. Understanding his brother as he did, James knew exactly where this conversation was heading. Arthur was nothing if not predictable.
    Arthur paused, grimacing. Down went his knife and fork.
    Ah, here it came.
    “Truly James, this whole situation is most unusual. She really should not be allowed to remain here.”
    James raised an eyebrow. “Indeed, Arthur? I am not in the habit of tossing unconscious young women out of my house.”
    “You know that is not what I meant.”
    “Really? Then what do you mean?”
    Arthur sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “This whole situation is dashed improper, particularly with Georgie in the house. I am sure the vicar and his wife would take her in until she is recovered enough to return from whence she came. Or until someone comes to fetch her. What will others say about this situation?”
    James shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed at Arthur’s extreme sense of propriety or amused by his predictability.
    Arthur neatly placed people into boxes clearly labeled with tags like Esteemed Nobleman or Virtuous Lady or Lowly Relation . And as their mystery lady did not yet fit into any known box, Arthur had preemptively put her into the box stamped Dangerous Connection .
    “James, how can you have such little sense?” Arthur continued, pursing his mouth in annoyance. “What will happen when Linwood hears of this? I’m sure he will forbid Marianne from visiting. And . . . and what will Sir Henry think?”
    James barely resisted the urge roll his eyes. “Please, Arthur. As you are well aware, I am not overly concerned about the opinions of our erstwhile neighbors. Linwood does not need the excuse of a stranger under my roof to forbid Miss Marianne from seeing you. He will deprive you of her company merely because the sky threatens rain. Or because he doesn’t like the look of your cravat. Or because it’s Thursday. He needs no real excuse.”
    Georgiana made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked snort.
    “And as for Sir Henry,” James continued, “I guarantee that he will be ecstatic to make our guest’s acquaintance. She is a mystery and therefore somewhat exotic. And you know, there is nothing Sir Henry loves more than