“She’s sleeping.” Becca said quietly as she slipped into Liam’s lab. “And I am not cleaning up your thumb.”
He looked up from over a book to see his sister peering cautiously under the table. “Mrs. Anderson will do it when she comes in tomorrow,” he said. “She’s used to that sort of thing.”
Becca side-stepped broken glass. “Her son is an undertaker, so I suppose she is desensitized.” Becca picked up the skull, peering into its hollow eyes. “That’s all Molly needs. To be desensitized, and then she’ll be fine.”
Liam closed the book. “And why would she need to be desensitized?”
“No reason.” She set the skull back down on the table. “She’s so sweet, and she has the most beautiful hazel eyes. Don’t you think?”
“I hadn’t noticed.” He got up and took a cigar out of a box over the mantel. “And you’re mistaken; they’re green, not hazel.”
She laughed. “Are you going to the soirée tomorrow?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.” He lit up from the grate.
“You could come anyway, just to keep me company.”
“I thought that’s what Miss Taylor was for.”
Becca sat, taking up the book he was reading and making a face at the title. “Mortician’s Yearly? What’s that about? No, never mind.”
“No matchmaking, please,” he told her, leaning back against the wall. He blew out a puff of smoke. “I can’t afford it, anyway.”
“Molly isn’t attached to her lifestyle.” She slid the book onto a table.
“If I had the means, the first thing I’d do is get you away from Richard, not take on the burden of a wife.”
“I won’t be home much longer anyway.”
“Assuming you can find an actual man.”
She lifted her brows at him. “As opposed to the dandies I meet at balls? Are you are going to start attending events with me so you can find me a real man?”
“Mother takes you to them.”
“I want you to take me.”
“So you can play matchmaker.”
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“Aren’t I always?”
“No. You like to pretend you are, to keep people away from you.”
He eyed her.
“Something’s bothering you.”
“Probably the formaldehyde evaporating off the floor,” he said with a straight face, knowing she was aware he was being evasive. That was the problem with sisters. It was impossible to hide anything from them.
“No, not that. Your fight with my father this morning is bothering you, and you’re trying to pretend it isn’t.”
“Richard and I fight regularly.”
Standing, Becca peered into his microscope. “What’s this?”
“Soil off a dead man’s shoe.”
“Oh, good then.” She made a face. “I’m going to take a nap. Let me know when you’re in the mood to tell me what’s wrong with you.” She left, closing the door behind her.
Liam put his cigar out and slid into a chair. He was only using it as a diversion while he hid from his sister anyway. As much as he loved her, she couldn’t know everything.
He’d suspected for some time that Richard was hiding something, but he wasn’t sure what. No, he wouldn’t stop taking cases like he’d told his stepfather he would, because he knew sooner or later one of them was going to lead him straight to Richard. He just needed enough evidence to convict the man with. It was the only way to free Becca and his mother from him for good.
Miss Molly Taylor on the other hand, well, he hadn’t seen her coming. She wasn’t just another one of Becca’s little friends. She was different; the way she looked at him, like he was something more than a man. She was having the unfortunate effect of making him want to shelter her from the world.
She made him want to shelter her with his body.
No, that wasn’t sheltering.
Then again, when you wanted to both bed her senseless—and—shelter her from any and all evil…
Liam groaned. Molly was a distraction he couldn’t afford. But what a pleasurable distraction she would be.
Darcy Branwyn 
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