The boys both nodded.
I paused, feeling uneasy with what I was about to suggest. “Couldn’t you just approach Gerard—or Dauphine—yourselves? I’m certain once they see you both—”
Disdain and disappointment flashed across Viktor’s face. “Oh, Ver, the man has spent our entire lives pretending we don’t exist. He’d laugh us all the way back to Marchioly House. And then put iron bars across every door and window. If we even made it there alive…”
“Gerard wouldn’t—”
“Gerard would,” he snapped.
I thought of the garden shears sunk deep in Constance’s chest and swallowed back rising bile.
If Gerard wouldn’t, Dauphine certainly would.
“He’d do anything to protect himself,” Julien said.
Viktor’s face turned into a sneer. “To protect his perfect family and his perfect legacy. His perfect son!”
“Alex isn’t your enemy,” I said.
He scoffed. “He’s stolen our birthright, our inheritance, our very identities. I’d say that puts us at odds.”
I shook my head. “You said how young you were when you left… He doesn’t remember you. He’d never willingly have gone along with such a scheme. He’s a good man, I swear that to you.”
“We’ll see.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” Viktor shrugged, looking suddenly weary. “We’re not the villains in this, Verity. We’re just two people who’ve been put into a terrible situation, one that was not our creation, and we’re only doing what you’re trying to.”
“Me? What do you think I’m doing?”
His eyes danced over mine, naked and vulnerable. “Surviving.”
Julien nodded. “Will you help us? Please?”
Viktor took my hands in his. The pads of his fingers brushed against my palms, electrifying me. “Do you believe our story?”
Reluctantly, lost in the depths of his eyes, I nodded.
“Do you believe a great wrong was committed? Not only against me, but Julien as well?”
Another nod.
“Then let us right it, Ver. Please.”
It was the please that did it. Such a simple word, stretched and beseeching.
He was right. They were in the same situation I’d run from myself. Secreted away by a family who didn’t want our talents shown to the world. Hushed and hidden. I didn’t know these boys, I didn’t trust them, but I knew what it felt like to be in their shoes.
I licked my lips. “How?”
A smile of relief washed over him, as if I’d promised him the moon. “Give us time. A day or two. Three at the most—if we haven’t found a way into the study by then, we’ll come forward. Just don’t tell anyone we’re here till then.”
“I can’t keep this from Alex. He deserves to know.”
Viktor shook his head in alarm. “He can’t know. No one can know.”
I hesitated.
I’d started the morning ready to tell Alex everything. To give him all my secrets.
But if I told him now, if I told him all this…I knew exactly how he’d react. He’d go straight to Gerard, seeking answers, demanding wrongs be righted. He’d steal away any chance to let his brothers handle it the way they wished to.
Because he was a good person.
The best one I knew.
I glanced back and forth between the two boys.
I was already so full of secrets.
I could keep hold of theirs for a little longer.
“A day,” I finally said, countering. “I’ll give you one day and then I’m telling Alex. All of it. He could help us. He’ll have ideas. I know he will.”
“One day,” Julien said, focusing on the only part of my agreement he cared about.
“One day.”
Viktor breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling again. “Thank you.” He cupped my feverish cheeks, his long fingers chilling them, and pressed a kiss of gratitude on the top of my head. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
I fought the temptation to pull him closer, to pull him down upon me, and let the wild yearnings spiking through me have their way.
He grinned darkly, as if it was he, not Julien, who could overhear my thoughts; then he paused, listening intently to something I could not. “Jules, we need to go.”
“Go?” I echoed.
Julien nodded, standing abruptly, his movements sharp and focused. Viktor slipped out of his jacket—Alex’s jacket—and folded it over the back of the wheelchair. “We’ll see you soon,” he promised, stopping for just a moment to press a kiss to the back of my hand.
My fingertips curled around Viktor’s, wanting to keep him here, with me, but in a flash, Julien was across the room, twisting a bit of molding along one of the sconces. A hidden door swung open, revealing another tunnel.
“Viktor,” he snapped, drawing his brother’s attention.
Viktor left me, racing first to flip the lock on the escutcheon before ducking into the darkness after Julien.
The wall shut with a dull click and they were gone.
Moments later, the door to the study opened and Alex wheeled in, in a different chair, looking flustered.
“Oh, Verity, you’re here,” he said in a rush. “What a day! I had another bad spell last night and overslept and then couldn’t find my chair, of all things. Oh,” he said, spotting the wicker chair in the middle of the room. “It’s here.”
Hidden in the depths of my skirts, I balled my hands into fists, preparing the first lie I’d ever told him. “I…borrowed it. I’m so sorry. I heard you weren’t feeling well last night so I thought it best to let you rest. I was going to work on the chair details today…I didn’t think how disconcerting it would be to wake and find it gone.”
He waved off my false words with a generosity I did not deserve. “I’m the one who ought to be apologizing. I feel terrible you were here working without me.” His hand wrapped around mine, squeezing it with a gentle affection. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. You weren’t well.” I studied him, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the weariness that clung to him like a tailored suit. “How are you feeling now?”
Alex shook his head. “I’ll be better. There’s just been so many late nights, too many celebrations. They’re taking a toll on me. On you,” he said, reaching out to touch the shadows under my own eyes.
The moment reminded me uncomfortably of Viktor’s own words. It seemed impossible they could be brothers and yet…so undeniably right. I wondered where the boys were now—if they’d escaped into a deeper region of the house or if they were lingering behind the hidden door, listening. Was Viktor watching my hand wrapped up in his brother’s?
I pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter if he was.
“You look as tired as I feel. Tell me the peacocks were quiet at least. I spoke to Erikson about having them roost farther from the house.”
I opened my mouth, feeling the words about to fall free.
The babies, Constance and her murder, my visions. I wanted to tell him everything.
But if I started with one thread of the story, the whole tale would unravel until everything came out.