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CHAPTER 16 Sydney’s jeep pulled up to a three-story Queen Anne home and Nigel stepped out. He waved as she slid back into the quiet lane and drove off, then he headed up the walkway that was boarded with beautiful, multicoloured flowerbeds against a manicured lawn that was littered with the leaves of fall. Two tall Maple trees stood guarding the entrance to the home and were the cause for most of the leaves. An older woman, with long, silver hair coiled into a regal knot atop her head that pushed out to create a soft crown around her face was raking leaves in the yard. “Good evening, Nigel,” she greeted, never pausing in her task. “How was your trip?” “Long, but successful,” he replied, pulling his bag higher onto his shoulder. “I could do that for you, Miss. Stansbury.” He liked his new landlady, but he often had to catch himself from calling her Miss Stanwick, because she so resembled the late, great actress. He knew her name was Katherine, but he still addressed her formally, out of respect. She was average height for a woman, although she held herself as if she were over six feet tall. She was Scottish, but her accent was barely noticeable as she always spoke with smooth, defined distinction. According to her, she had never been married and the house had been left to her when her parents died. It was an enormous place for just one woman, which was why, when having a large house all to ones self wasn’t as fashionable anymore, she turned the second and third stories of the house into a three bedroom apartment. “Thanks for the offer, but if I don’t keep moving my muscles will seize up and my bones will crumble and I’ll be like one of your relics, waiting years for someone to find me,” Miss Stanwick decided, ruefully.” “You’re far from a relic,” Nigel grinned. The woman was in amazing physical shape, considering that she was in her early seventies. She stared at him. “Compared to something that is several centruies old?” “You’re not yet a hundred, there’s hope.” She laughed. “Well, I mean to be, one of these days, so I need to keep the old blood pumping.” “You should still hire someone to help, if you won’t allow me to.” “I’ve been keeping this place in shape, since I was a wee lass and it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.” She set the rake against the railing of the wrap-around porch and started up the steps. “And speaking of dogs, my feet are killing me and you look slaked with thirst, so come along inside and I’ll get us a drink.” Nigel almost refused, he was extremely tired, but they’d developed a habit over the last few weeks that he would visit with her whenever he came home from one of their hunts, if she was awake at the time. “That would be nice, thank you.” They walked past the parlour and into a fully modernized kitchen, with state of the art appliances, long, smooth marble counter tops and steel and copper pots and pans hanging above a beautiful breakfast island in the centre. The rest of Miss Stansbury’s apartments were a beautiful and regal tribute to her early years, and held a mixture of early nineteenth century and modern day furniture and décor. “Lemonade or iced tea?” she asked as she pulled open her refrigerator. “Tea, please.” She poured them up two glasses and they settled at the breakfast island. “You look tired as hell, boy.” He smirked and set his bag down as he climbed onto a high back stool. “It’s been a long few days.” “Well, someone will be very happy you’re back.” He nodded and sipped his tea. “How are things going with you two?” “Fine, I think,” he admitted. “I haven’t lived with anyone since boarding school, so it’s a bit of an adjustment, but I think it’s working out well.” Rose had decided to go to school at Trinity and she had taken Nigel up on his offer of living together. The small one room flat where he had been living was far too small for the two of them, so they had set out to find a new place. Rose had liked the condos, closer to the city and some of the high-rise apartments and so, frankly, did Nigel, but they were too far from campus and he couldn’t afford even half the rent they were asking. Rose had suggested using her money to pay for everything and he refused. Then she offered to buy him a car, so he could drive back and forth, but again he declined. Sydney offered them use of her car and they searched for almost two weeks, with Rose sleeping in the bedroom of his small apartment and him on the sofa. Then, one day while on their residential search, they got lost and ended up a quiet New England Street that time forgot. There, a quiet lane was lined with late eighteenth, early nineteenth century architecture. Tall, colourful two and three story houses boarded with immaculate lawns, lush flowerbeds and wrap around porches. The lane was boarded with tall trees and antique lampposts as children played ball in the street and rode their bicycles back and forth, their parents working in the yard or sipping lemonade as they relaxed in a porch swing and visited with their neighbours. Rose had spotted the FOR RENT sign in the window of the next to the last house on the lane, the colour of ripe peaches, trimmed with ivory and deep red wine. They checked it out and were met by Miss Stansbury, who showed them the upstairs apartment, which Nigel was sure would be more than they could afford. However, the older woman said she wasn’t renting for the money, simply because she had to find a use for the rest of her enormous house. She didn’t advertise in the papers, and few stragglers ever got to their side of town. She felt it was fate that Nigel and Rose had gotten lost on her street and offered them a very reasonable price. Rose fell in love with the apartment, the surroundings and Miss. Stansbury and Nigel had to comply. Besides, the house was only three miles from Trinity, he could bike there easily and that was an important consideration. He had also taken to the handsome, plain-speaking woman that would be their landlord. He found Miss Stansbury enormously insightful and intelligent and chatted with her easily. She seemed to take to him as well, sharing her colourful history with him, making him laugh with her stories of being a performer on Vaudeville and later in a few silver screen movies. She had been a dancer, mostly, and preferred acting in front of a live audience. Sam, her vaudeville partner, had been the love of her life. He had died in the war and she had never married. Nigel found himself opening up about his life in England, his family, and his doubts about Rose. He wanted to be a good brother, but it was all so new. Miss Stansbury was very understanding and supportive. She could see how much he was floundering and, as was her way, she continued to remind him that looking back and dwelling on the past would only make him miss the fullness of the present. When he called her on the philosophy, reminding her of holding on to Sam’s memory, she insisted that was different. Sam had been her soul mate and she could not settle for anyone else. She’d experienced her one great love at an early age, and the experience had lasted her a lifetime, she felt no need for another man’s company. She was content to be what she was, an old spinster, living alone, with her own way of doing things and having to answer to no one but herself. “How’s that woman of yours?” Miss Stansbury asked. Nigel dipped his head. “Sydney is fine, and she’s my friend not my woman.” “Whose fault is that?” “Oh, stop it!” he growled amused at her motherly pestering. He finished off his drink and rose. “I better get upstairs.” Miss Stansbury walked him out. “Get some sleep before you fall over,” she insisted. “And eat something, a stiff wind could blow you over.” “Yes, mum,” he retorted, kindly as they stepped out onto the porch and she returned to her raking. “Don’t work yourself into a lather!” She waved a dismissive hand as he wandered around the porch to the side of the house and up the steps that led to the entrance to the second floor apartment. He stepped inside, relived to be home. It was odd, he hadn’t really thought of any of his other flats as a home, but somehow, this one was different. Perhaps, it was the knowledge that someone was waiting for him that made it feel more welcoming. “Rose?” he called as he set his bag aside and glanced around the spacious, open living room. The second floor consisted of a large living area, which may have once been a bedroom, because it had a balcony that opened up to the front of the house, a small kitchenette, and dining nook, along with a tiny bedroom at the back of the house, that Nigel had turned into a study to house all his books and research. Two garret bedrooms and a bathroom made up on the third floor. “Rose?” he called again and moved further into the living area. The balcony doors were open, allowing the fall breeze inside along with the sound of scattering leaves dancing across the driveway. “Rose, are you home?” Receiving no answer, and assuming she was out for another one of her walks, he dropped down onto the sofa. He was exhausted. He stretched out and tossed an arm over his eyes. It had been a gruelling hunt and there had been a couple of moments when he thought they might not make it back this time, but as usual, Sydney came through at the last minute and figured out a way to save them the relic and still beat the bad guys. They had escaped by the skin of their teeth, once again. He closed his eyes and had just started to drift when he heard their apartment door open. He opened his eyes, curious, but didn’t sit up as Rose entered, looking as refreshed as s spring rain as she stepped inside holding a large paper sack of groceries. “Mon frère!” she cried, delighted as she set the bag down, kicked off her sandals and hurried over to him. “You’re home!” “Seems like,” he smiled as he sat up to receive her kiss on the cheek and quick hug. It took getting used to her affectionate ways, but he was leaning and he loved when she called him her brother. “I told you I would be home today.” She dropped down next to the sofa and beamed at him. “Yes, of course, but you’re early. I wanted to have dinner prepared for you.” Nigel had to get used to how much Rose loved to cook for and she did it as often as she was able too. It was a definite bonus for someone who had existed mostly on takeaway and frozen dinners, thought he tried not to take advantage and would take her out for a meal when he was home. Rose stood and returned to fetch her bag of groceries. “Miss Stansbury has given us permission to use her grill,” she stated Nigel immediately rose to help. She waved him off and stepped through the archway that led to the kitchen and dining area. “I have steaks, potatoes, and corn on the stick.” She set the bag on the counter as Nigel joined her. “That is the traditional American barbecue, oui?” He grinned. “How would I know? I’m English!” “Of course you are!” She retrieved a tray of fresh mushrooms and two sweet onions, from the bag. “I bought these as well.” Nigel’s mouth started to water, he loved mushrooms. “You seem to know me pretty well.” “I know your stomach at least.” She started unloading the rest of the groceries and smacked Nigel’s hands away when he tried to assist. He sighed and leaned against the counter, his eyes widening when she unwrapped four enormous T-Bone steaks from the butcher. “Good grief!” he exclaimed, the steaks had to be several inches thick. “Do you have the rest of the cow tethered to the steps downstairs?” “No, but they did give me a good deal on sausages,” she replied, showing him the string of thick, juicy links. “For breakfast tomorrow.” “You’re spoiling me, Rose.” “I am happy to have someone to spoil.” Nigel frowned. “How much did all of this cost?” “I do not remember.” “Rose.” She sighed. “It is my money, Nigel. I can spend it as I like.” Nigel gave her a generous allowance out of her trust every week, for necessities and entertainment, but he didn’t want her spending all the money on him. “Well, just the same, from now on, we go get groceries together, okay?” “I wanted to make a special dinner for you.” “I appreciate that, and it’s a wonderful idea, but we can’t eat like this all the time. We have to budget.” “Why?” “Well, because it’s better to budget your money, so that you always have a little extra for emergencies.” “Nigel, I know how much money I have.” “As do I, that doesn’t mean you have to spend it all in one year.” She smirked. “Papa never complained. He said I could buy whatever I chose.” “I’m not him and you need to learn to control your spending.” Nigel hoped this wasn’t going to be a constant issue. It was her money, but she was still young and Mason had spoiled her. She had to learn the value of a dollar, even if it was up to him to show her. Instead of being annoyed with him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You are wise,” she said. “I will listen to what you say, though I do not see the point of it.” He smiled, relieved. “You will in the future.” “If you insist.” She retrieved several large potatoes from the bag and started scrubbing them in the sink. “How was your trip?” “Long, tiring. I’m glad to be back.” Which reminded him of something he needed to talk to her about. “Speaking of my trip, you really have to stop giving my mobile number to every woman you meet, Rose.” “I do not give it to every woman, just the pretty ones that I think you will like.” “All the same, you need to stop. I had six calls while I was away and fourteen messages, when I returned that Karen had taken from women calling the office.” “What is wrong with that?” “I gave you that number for emergencies,” he reminded. The extra calls from strange women had come at the most inappropriate moments and had really started to annoy Sydney. She had been grumpy with him the entire trip home. “I can’t have my phone ringing every ten minutes when I’m working.” Rose started wrapping the potatoes in tin foil. “You are always working. When can they call you?” “I don’t want them to call at all. I don’t even know any of them.” She stabbed the potatoes several times with a fork to ventilate them. “You should have a companion,” she insisted. “You are too young to act so old.” “What the devil does that mean?” “You should be having a good time with a pretty woman.” She looked at him. “You should be…How do you say…Sowing your wild oats?” “Rose!” Nigel flushed. “I’m English, we don’t have oats, wild or otherwise!” Rose smiled, set the potatoes aside and started to tenderize the steaks with a wooden mallet. “I only say this because I do not want you to be lonely. It is not good for a man to spend all his time working and every night alone.” “How do you know what is good for a man?” “My papa told me how it is to be a man, as did Ian, and they were never lost for company. It is the way that it is and you should find a woman as well.” “I don’t need a woman, Rose,” Nigel insisted. “And how I spend my nights are not your concern.” “Of course it is,” she replied sprinkling spices over the steaks. “I want you to be happy.” “I’m perfectly happy.” “You are lonely.” “I’m not!” He paused. “And, even if I were, I’m more than capable of getting myself a woman, thank you very much.” He pulled the pile of messages he’d gotten from Karen from his pocket and set them on the counter. “This has to stop, Rose. You’ll get me sacked if you keep this up. Sydney was very angry about the phone calls. We can’t afford such distractions in the field and I have to leave my phone on for emergencies.” “She would not…what does sack mean again?” “Dismiss me, fire me. I’ll lose my job.” “You told me that you and Sydney are friends.” “We are…” “Then why would she dismiss you over something so silly?” Nigel didn’t really think Sydney would fire him, but he couldn’t have her constantly annoyed with him either. There was enough tension on a hunt, without there being more between the two of them. “The phone calls are making things difficult and I want you to stop giving out my number.” He captured her gaze, firmly. “I mean it, Rose.” Rose picked up the plate of steaks. “Will you come light the grill for me, I am not sure how?” Nigel followed her out to the balcony. “Promise me you will stop this nonsense.” “I will not.” “Rose…” “You need my help!” she exclaimed. ‘That woman works you to death and gives you no time for pleasure!” Nigel’s eyebrows rose as switched on the gas grill. That woman? “Sydney?” he asked confused. “I thought you liked Sydney?” “I do, but she…she is…how you say…” Rose became frustrated and started ranting in French. “Stop it!” Nigel demanded, appalled by her language “Sydney is not a slave driver, and she certainly isn’t…those other things you said either. I work hard because I chose to, because it is the nature of our business. Sydney is a warm and generous employer and she is a good friend. She would give her life for me, as I would her and I won’t have you talk about her with such disrespect!” Rose shook her head, adamantly. “You work to forget how lonely you are!” “I’m not bloody lonely!” She shoved the steaks at him. “I am!” she cried and ran back inside. Nigel stared after her, stunned. He slowly set the steaks on the wooden counter of the grill and returned to the living room in search of his sister. She wasn’t there, so he headed upstairs and paused outside her bedroom. Her door was open, but she had thrown herself on her bed, face down and sobbing. He sometimes forgot that she was only seventeen. He hesitated against invading her private space, and then knocked on the doorframe. “Rose?” She continued to weep. “Rose, I…I told you I would be away quite a bit,” he reminded, gently. “You said you were okay with that.” “I did not think it would be for days at a time!” she sobbed. Nigel sighed. He didn’t know what to do. Rose lifted her head and stared at him. “Why are you out there?” she sniffed as she slowly sat up and wiped at her face. “This is your room, I don’t want to intrude.” She shook her head and patted the space on the bed beside her as she sat up. “You are too polite. You are my brother, of course you can come in.” Nigel slowly entered and settled next to her, clasping his hands in front of him. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, Rose.” “I know.” She reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand and blew her nose. “I…I thought we would have time together. I thought you wanted me here.” “I do!” He was distressed that she would think otherwise. “I do want you here, Rose.” “I came to live with you so I would see you, talk to you. How can we get to know each other if you are always off with that woman?” “Stop calling her that woman.” “You always run off whenever she calls,” Rose muttered, angrily. “All you ever talk about is Sydney this and Sydney that and…and…I hate her!” “You don’t hate, Sydney.” “Of course, she is too perfect to hate, non?” “Sydney is far from perfect, no one is perfect. What do you have against her, all of a sudden?” Rose shrugged and crumpled the tissue in her hand. “Why must you always be with her?” “It’s my job, she’s my employer, Rose.” She shook her head. “It is more than that.” She turned to him and grasped his hands. “I can do the things she does too, mon frère. I…I can be exciting and…and I am smart and…and I will…” “Oy!” Nigel called, startled. She almost sounded jealous of Sydney, but why would she feel that way? She had to know that she was just as important to him. “Rose, you are exactly what you should be, I like you fine just as you are.” “Still you are always with her!” “Sydney and I are not dating, Rose. We’re…we don’t have a romantic relationship. We just work together. When I am with Sydney, that is what we are doing, working.” He sighed. “I know it seems like more, I know I spend a lot of time with her, but…” He squeezed her hands. “Rose, sweetheart, you’re just as special to me as Sydney is.” “You love her.” Nigel flushed and released her hands. “I…of course I do. She’s my best friend…” Rose shook her head. “There is more, even I can see how you feel for her. If you will not tell her why do you continue to feel this way? Why do you not meet another who will help you forget her? I could help you. I could…” Nigel was disturbed by her questions and quickly rose. “I’m not going to discuss my relationship with Sydney and you have no right to make decisions about my personal life. You barely know me, you don’t understand what Sydney and I have and don’t feel like explaining it to you. Every person we meet I have to explain it to and I’m fed up with it. If you don’t like her, fine, don’t like her, but I will not have you pass judgement on her or our friendship. All you need to know is that she is important to me. How you chose to deal with it is your affair, but I won’t have you disrespect her again, Rose.” He started to move away, frustrated with her and with himself, for losing his temper. Rose caught his hand, desperately. “Forgive me!” she cried. “I will be good, I will say no more of it. I only want to make you happy. Please don’t send me away, Nigel. Please!” Nigel stared down at her, aghast. “Rose, I…send you away?” How could she even think such a thing? “I love having you here, of course I won’t send you away. Where would you even get such an idea?” Nigel settled next to her again, his heart melting and his soul aching for her distress. They were more alike than she realized. “Rose,” he began, and then hesitated. He wasn’t used to sharing things about himself. It had been difficult enough with Mason, and that was done only to protect Sydney. “Rose, sometimes when…when parents do things we don’t always understand, it truly is for our own good.” God knew he didn’t want to allow Mason and kind of accolades, but he couldn’t have Rose thinking she sent away for doing something wrong. He knew that feeling, that total sense of abandonment and betrayal, mixed with the constant need for approval, to keep from being tossed aside again. It burned him still, even after all these years. “I…your father sent you away to protect you, because he…he loves you and for no other reason.” She stared into his eyes, saw the depth of his conflict, and a tear spilled down her cheek. He understood, but how was that possible? Her father said that a good family had raised him. “You…you were sent away?” He nodded. “I was sent to boarding school when I was eight. I didn’t understand it then either, I only knew that I hated it and that I was horribly angry with my parents. I thought I had done something wrong, that I hadn’t been a good enough child.” She nodded. “Yes. It is terrible to feel such a thing.” “The thing is, I was wrong. They were doing what was best for me and it hurt them to send me away, as much as it hurt me to go.” It hurt still, because he could never reclaim the relationship he’d had with his mother. He caressed her cheek, caught the second tear as it traced a wet trail across her skin. “I adore you, but we still hardly know each other. I have known Sydney a very long time and we’ve been through…well some amazing things together. That is why she is important to me, but it doesn’t mean that I care less about you because of what I feel for her, and I certainly won’t send you away just because we’ve had a row. Brothers and sisters are supposed to argue, that’s why it’s called sibling rivalry.” She almost managed a smile. “I do not like to fight.” “We weren’t fighting, we just had a disagreement.” “You will not send me away?” “No. Never.” “Your promise?” He raised his right hand. “My very solemn promise.” “I only wish you to be happy.” “I am happy.” “Then why do I see you looking so sad?” she asked. “Why, when you think I am not looking, do you seem so far away, so distant, as if bothered by a great weight?” “It’s just the way I am, Rose. I’m always thinking about something and sometimes I brood. You’ll get used to it.” Having such an active mind was both a blessing and a curse. “It is more than that. There is a heaviness in your heart that you are hiding from.” She folded her hands over his. “If you cannot tell me, tell Sydney. She is your best friend, yes? She will know how to make things better.” Nigel shook his head. “It isn’t that easy.” He rose. “We should go put the steaks on. The grill should be hot enough by now.” The doorbell rang just as they descended the stairs and Nigel moved to answer it. “You must look who it is!” Rose charged, smiling. “You say I must do this.” He grinned and glanced through the peephole. “It’s Sydney,” he announced, surprised. He watched Rose retreat to the patio as he opened the door and smirked at his friend. “Didn’t I just leave you?” Sydney grinned. “What can I say, I’m obsessed.” She handed him his wallet. “You left this in my car, I was halfway home when I noticed it.” His eyebrows rose. “I hadn’t realized I’d lost it,” he admitted, automatically patting his back pants pocket and finding it empty. “Thanks, Syd.” “Sure.” She paused and stared at him, expectantly. “Can I come in?” “Oh! Sorry.” He stepped aside to allow her entry and closed the door. “Where’s Rose?” “She’s out putting the steaks on the grill, I imagine.” He grinned as dropped his wallet on the coffee table. “We’re having a real American barbecue.” “Isn’t grilling supposed to be the man’s job?” Nigel shrugged and moved over to the kitchen. “I’ve relinquished so many masculine customs while working with you, what’s one more?” He opened the fridge. “Water?” “Sure.” Sydney glanced around, approvingly. “I really like this place you found.” “Yes, so do we.” Nigel tossed a bottle. “Would you care to stay for dinner?” “Oh no, I’ve got plans. I can only stay a moment.” Nigel paused in taking a drink and frowned. “Surely you aren’t going out tonight, Syd? You said you were exhausted.” Nigel waved his hand and settled on the opposite end of the sofa. “Sod him, plenty of other fish in the sea.” “My pond is getting pretty bare, lately. I have to take what I can get.” He stared at her. “I find that hard to believe.” “Not really, I think I’ve pretty much met ever creep, arrogant ass, miserable leech and imbecile in the greater Massachusetts area.” “Well, if you’re going to be so picky, Syd, ” Nigel teased. She grinned. “Speaking of which, did you speak to Rose about the phone calls?” “Yes, and it won’t happen again.” “Good. You’re entitled to a social life, Nigel, but…” “Not when it interferes with our work. I know, Syd.” He sighed and sat back against the cushions. “She’s just…well she’s under the impression that I’m lonely and in desperate need of a woman.” “Are you?” “What?” “Are you lonely and in desperate…” “NO!” He almost choked on the mouthful of soda he had just taken. “Fine time to ask me!” “Well, if she thinks that, there must be a reason,” Sydney replied, slapping him on the back. “The reason is that she’s lonely, she wants us to spend more time together.” “Ah, I see.” He hated it when she used that tone with him. “I’m not lonely.” He flinched away from her direct gaze. “Not right at this moment, anyway, but of course I get lonely, everyone does. Isn’t that why you’re going out with this fellow tonight?” Sydney shrugged, caught in her own web. She honestly didn’t know why she had agreed to go out with Trevor. He was nice enough, if slightly self absorbed, but they had almost nothing in common. She didn’t want to admit to Nigel that she had been increasingly lonely lately and Trevor was better than sitting at home dreaming of someone she would never have. Nigel sat back again. “I’ll tell you something,” he continued, when she declined to answer. “You have more stamina that I to be going out painting the town after the three days we’ve just had. I’m so tired I’ll probably fall asleep in my food. “I’m tired too, but I made the date over a month ago.” “Seems he’d understand if he was a decent bloke.” “Would you?” “Would I what?” “Would you understand if I cancelled on you at the last minute and for the fourth time, pleading exhaustion?” “Certainly.” “Baloney.” Nigel sighed and closed his eyes. “If you’re not going to believe me, why ask? I’d be disappointed, but I would understand, because I know how hard you work, Syd.” She smirked. “Almost as hard as you do.” She did all the physical work, but Nigel did that plus the research. She couldn’t count how many times she’d fallen into a dead, exhaustive sleep in the middle of a hunt, knowing Nigel was still reading some book, scripture or working on his lap top to assure they were as prepared as possible for the next day’s journey. He lips curved into a small smile, but he didn’t open his eyes. Sydney peeled the Evian label off her bottle. “Trevor’s okay, we just don’t have much in common. He’s okay company, if we talk about inconsequential things, and he’s very romantic, but…” She shrugged. “I’m looking for a little more, I guess.” She paused. “So you think I’m leading him on?” Silence. “Nigel?” She turned to look at him and saw that he had fallen asleep, sitting up. “Oh, Nige.” She carefully removed the water bottle from his hands and set it on the coffee table, then rose and slid her hand under his neck to pull him sideways, so he could stretch out on the sofa. She pulled his legs up on the cushions and placed the throw from the back of the sofa over him. Nigel must have been exhausted, for he didn’t stir once. “What are you doing?” Rose asked entering the room from the balcony. Sydney spun around. “He fell asleep.” Rose walked around Sydney and peered over the back of the sofa at the sleeping Englishman. “Should I hold dinner for him?” “Nah, let him sleep a little, then wake him when it’s ready. He needs to eat.” Rose met Sydney’s gaze, directly. “You care for him a great deal.” Sydney nodded. “He’s my best friend.” “No, I mean, to care, you take care of him.” “He takes care of me. It’s a trade off.” Rose looked back at Nigel. “I want to take care of him, he will not allow it.” “I find that hard to believe, Rose. Nigel’s just used to doing things on his own, you have to be patient.” Sydney grinned. “Besides, he takes his role as a big brother very seriously. He wants to take care of you.” “We should take care of each other,” Rose argued. “I agree.” Rose stared at Nigel, and then lifted her eyes to Sydney’s again. “I want to do things for him, more than cook a meal, but I do not know what he likes, what he needs.” She sighed. “I thought he needed a woman, but it seems all he needs is you.” Sydney flushed. “Rose, Nigel and I aren’t…” “Yes, yes, he has explained.” She moved away to the kitchen to pop the potatoes in the oven. “Are you staying for dinner, Sydney?” Sydney hesitated; there was something in her tone. “No, I have plans.” Plans she no longer wanted to follow through with. She wanted to curl up next to Nigel and go to sleep, in all honesty. “So, you have companions other than my brother?” Sydney frowned. Was that a dig? “Yes, and Nigel has friends outside of me, Rose. We’re not inseparable.” Rose started stripping the stalks off the corncobs and remained silent. “If you have a problem with me, Rose, maybe we should talk about it?” Sydney suggested. “I think you’re a very sweet and intelligent young woman, what is it you don’t like about me?” Rose filled a large pot with water and sprinkled in a teaspoon of sugar. “I thought you had plans, Sydney?” “It’s more important that we clear the air.” Rose set the pot on the stove and dipped the corncobs inside. “Is everything always done to your wishes?” she demanded, without malice. “Do you never consider another’s feelings?” “I’m trying to consider yours and Nigel’s, by talking about this now.” Rose spun around suddenly and met Sydney’s gaze. “You think I am a foolish girl. You think I do not know how a woman thinks, but I do. I know you want him, Sydney. It is written in your face, in your voice, in the very way you treat him.” “You’re wrong, Rose.” “It is not my place to judge you, if you love him, that is good, but if you do, you should tell him instead of expecting him to wait for you forever and leave all other woman behind him.” “It isn’t like that,” Sydney denied, despite the sudden hammering of her heart. “Nigel and I are friends. I know he dates other women, just as he knows I date other men. Our relationship is purely platonic, Rose.” Rose stared at her for a long time, and then turned back to the corn. “I thought you were an intelligent woman, Sydney.” She turned the burner on for the stove and allowed the corn to boil. “Look, you’re Nigel’s sister, and I respect that, but I’m not going to stand here and let you dissect my relationship with him. You couldn’t possibly understand the bond we share and it’s frankly none of your business, Rose.” “Yes, Nigel said much the same thing.” Sydney set her half empty bottle of water on the counter. “Then you should listen to him.” “Do you understand it, Sydney?” Rose asked, suddenly. “What?” “Do you know what it is between you and Nigel, or are you only pretending to know, as it suits your intentions?” Sydney moved back towards the door. “Tell Nigel I’ll see him at work,” she requested. “Good night, Rose.” “Adieu, Sydney.”
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