The Making of a Gentleman by Shana Galen

them? Miss Bennett had tried to tell him what she knew about it, but he did not understand everything.
    No matter. He had his own ideas.
    They had come. He could not say exactly who they were, but he knew it was someone from his past. They were here, and they were searching for…
    Silencesilencesilence!
    No, he would not even think the name. Even thinking it would be dangerous. Julien needed to see the danger. He needed to know they were no longer safe.
    With that objective in mind, Armand crossed the room and unlatched the French doors behind Julien’s desk. They led out to the garden, to an area where the family sat on warm summer evenings. Armand had tried to lure Julien outside on such a night and found his brother did not appreciate the quiet of the gardens as he did.
    “I’m not in the mood to look at stars,” Julien said, waving for Armand to close the doors again. “I want to finish these ledgers.”
    Armand pushed the doors wider and waited, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the back of Julien’s head, wondering if a swift smack against the hard skull would have any real effect.
    Finally his patience was rewarded, and Julien turned and scowled at him. “You’re allowing the heat in this room to escape.”
    Armand pushed the doors wider, stepped outside, and waited. With a long-suffering sigh, Julien heaved himself out of his chair and followed. “This had better not be about looking at some plant or other,” he growled, stomping after Armand.
    Armand led the way, smiling in amusement at his brother’s mumbled curses. If he were Julien, he would not have traded the outside for sitting in a dark office, staring at lists of numbers for hours and hours. But he understood his brother considered any pursuit that was not monetary in nature a waste of time.
    Finally, they reached the section of the garden where he stood earlier with Miss Bennett. It was darker than before, but Julien had carried a lamp with him and now he raised it to illuminate the ground where Armand pointed.
    “What the hell?” He studied the holes then knelt down for a closer look at the biggest one. He glanced up at Armand, who stood with his arms crossed, feeling rather smug. “I don’t suppose you did this?”
    Now it was Armand’s turn to scowl.
    “Hmm. Doesn’t look like the work of an animal.”
    Armand simply waited patiently, knowing his brother would eventually see the problem, the danger.
    Julien rose, peered at another hole. “It can’t be the gardeners. This is destructive.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Or exploratory.” He shot a look at Armand. “Digging for something? What would someone be digging for in our garden?”
    Armand frowned, still having difficulty tracking his brother’s rapid speech. Julien mimed digging with a shovel, and Armand nodded. Yes, now he understood.
    Kicking at one of the mounds, Julien growled, “Why?”
    Armand inhaled sharply, hoping his brother would not press the issue.
    “I’ll have the gardeners repair the damage in the morning,” Julien said, turning back toward the town house, but Armand made a sound that caused his brother to spin back around. He put a hand to his forehead and pretended to be looking into the distance for something. Julien watched him for a long moment then said, “You want me to have someone watch the house. You think this might be more serious.”
    Armand nodded.
    Julien put his hands behind his back and walked slowly toward the town house. Armand followed behind, impatient for his brother’s decision. Finally Julien paused at the French doors. “I’ll have someone keep watch tonight.”
    Armand relaxed and started inside. As he passed through, Julien patted him on the shoulder.
    Hot! No!
    The pain was instant and intense. Armand jerked away, his skin burning where his brother had touched it. He rounded on his brother, fists high and ready to attack. But Julien already had his hands high in surrender.
    “I’m sorry. I forgot.” He spoke