“I had hoped this would not come up until they were gone,” Niall said, rising. “But since you have guessed, I see no reason to deny the truth.” He strode across the room and addressed the wall, his hands clasped behind his back. “I made a mistake when I brought the circus to Denver. It is not a suitable entertainment for the children, nor are the performers fit company for you and the other young ladies.”
“I see. And you discussed this with Cecily?”
“Miss Hockensmith agreed with me.”
Athena bit her lip. It was difficult not to be a little upset with Cecily for taking her brother’s side, but she knew that the other woman’s motives were good even if her attitude was too severe. “What led you to make this decision, Niall?”
There. Either he would tell her the truth, or he would work his way around it as if it were a ticklish business deal.
He chose a middle path. “I received some new information that suggested it would be better if they did not remain. I offered them a substantial gratuity in compensation. They were happy enough to take it.”
Now he was lying. “Were they? It’s not really the children you wish to protect, is it, Niall? You are afraid for me.”
He turned around and stared at her. “And if I am? You spend too much time with beggars and riffraff as it is. We discussed this before—”
“They are human beings, are they not? They are far more apt to be harmed than do harm themselves. The troupers are constantly on the verge of disaster, yet they are generous and warmhearted.”
“You see? You already think of them as friends.”
“We formed a contract with them, and you have always said that contracts must be honorably fulfilled. Even if you don’t consider such a contract sacred, I do.” She gathered her courage. “That is why you must agree to let them stay to complete the performance.”
“I must? Did I hear you correctly, Athena?”
“Yes. I have asked very little of you in the past several years, except that you allow me to use my portion of the inheritance as I wish. Now I am asking for this.”
He glowered and paced from one end of the room to the other. “I have already asked them to leave.”
“Send a message and tell them that you have changed your mind. You need not give any explanation.”
Now was the crucial moment. Either he must come up with a better argument than he had so far, or he would be forced to tell her his real reason for wanting the troupe—and most especially the “Wolf-Man”—out of her reach.
“If you do this, Niall,” she said, “I’ll stay away from the lot until the day of the performance.”
“That is not enough. If I allow the circus to remain, you must promise to curtail some of your more intemperate activities.”
Athena closed her eyes. She knew that he was using this as a means to do the very thing Morgan had accused him of—control her. “You ask a great deal,” she said.
“So do you.” The mattress creaked as he sat down again. “I am willing to compromise, but only if you will do the same.”
Compromise? she thought with unaccustomed bitterness. Negotiate is too nice a word. Manipulate is more accurate. You have all the advantages.
“Very well,” she said. “Will you send a message tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” He patted her hand. “It’s for the best, my dear. The performance is to be on Sunday. I foresee no trouble as long as you remain at home until then.”
Athena was very tempted to argue. She did not enjoy arguing, and she’d had her fill of it tonight with Morgan. But a kernel of anger lay hard and cold in her heart, threatening to grow into something larger and much more intractable. Something with claws and fangs and the tenacity to drive every obstacle from its path by any means.
Exactly like Morgan Holt.
She tucked her hand under the covers. “I am tired now. I think I would like to sleep.”
“Good.” He got up and went to turn off the lamp. “I’m sure that you will have plenty to do until Sunday. I’ll ask Miss Hockensmith to visit and bring your friends.”