Truth Within Dreams Read Online Free Page B

including for you twins.” Her face crumpled and she rounded on Henry. “What did you
do
to her?”
    Claudia glanced at the bed. Now that she saw her work in the light of day, there did seem to be a shocking quantity of blood. The bottle was so small, though; it had contained scarcely enough liquid to fill a teacup. Was that really too much? She didn’t know—she was a virgin, for mercy’s sake!
    Henry was as stunned as everyone else, of course. “I would never do anything to Miss Baxter to result in this …”
    His face took on a green cast. Oh, no! He couldn’t get sick. That would distract everyone from arriving at the moral of the story, which was
Claudia cannot marry Sir Saint, she is ruined. Ruined for matrimony. Ruined forever.
    “It looks like a slaughterhouse,” Sir John contributed. His face had gone nearly as dark as the impressive stain. His wife was buried against his shoulder, looking away from the scene of their daughter’s transgression. Her keening wail rose in the air.
    “You’re going to die,” Claude said, his words icily clipped.
    “No, I’m not,” Claudia said. “Did you not know virgins spill some blood on their—”
    The inhuman roar that burst from her twin’s throat was a tad unsettling.
    “Not helping, Claudia,” Henry said for the second time.
    Her arms crossed at her waist, Claudia shot Henry an annoyed glance. The greenish cast to his face had given way to a waxy pallor. “Hush and let me handle this,” she instructed him.
    “Name your second,” Claude growled. He hadn’t finished dressing before bursting into Henry’s room, Claudia noted. The open neck of his shirt showed skin flushed with fury. “Name your weapon. Write your will and sign it in blood, because you die tomorrow morning, De Vere.”
    Claudia’s mouth dropped as Claude’s words struck home. “You meant
Henry
was going to die, not me?”
    “Of course not you, peabrain,” her brother snapped. “Your honor has been impugned, or haven’t you noticed?”
    “Well, you aren’t fighting a duel,” she proclaimed. A duel! How positively fustian. All she wanted was to not have the wedding of her nightmares. “Papa, tell Claude he isn’t going to shoot Henry.”
    Sir John looked like he’d happily chuck the lot of them into the abyss. His mouth opened, but her brother butted in yet again, the mannerless lout.
    “I demand satisfaction!”
    Claudia’s fists dug into her hips. “And
I
demand you stop this nonsense
at once
!” If there was a human being she felt completely at ease screeching at, it was her twin. And screech she did. How dare he threaten Henry? “Mr. De Vere has been your best friend for twenty years, and at the first provocation, you’re ready to do murder?” She was enjoying her impromptu role of Defender of the Wrongly Accused. Her eyes, she was sure, blazed with the light of Justice. “I’m ashamed to call you my brother, and weep that we ever shared a womb. I should rather be cast into the wilderness, penniless and alone, than admit connection to a bloodthirsty turncoat such as your foul self.”
    Claude hadn’t heard a word of her monologue, which was fair enough, she supposed, given she’d not paid attention to the harangue he’d simultaneously delivered. The volume of their argument filled the room—and probably the entire house.
    A tug at her waist brought Claudia back down onto the edge of the bed. “That’s enough now.” Henry’s rich voice was velvet against her ear, while Claude’s continued rant was the roughest burlap. Briefly, she met Henry’s eyes. His olive-green gaze spoke of steady resolve. Claudia felt a melting sensation in her chest.
    “Claude,” Henry said, raising his voice.
    Her brother’s lips pinched together. His chin continued to work back and forth, as though his angry words were fighting to break past the barrier of his teeth.
    Henry rearranged the covers tucked around his torso. He looked at the bloody bed and then back to Claude. “If