“Not a problem.”
“You’re a good sister, Blake.” She leaned toward me and added, “The best.”
The tears stung so bad, I had to release them.
Though she was watery, I saw the same happen to her.
Listing forward, we hugged.
We heard a throat cleared at the door, let each other go and looked that way.
Dad was standing in the door, a gentle, settled look on his handsome face as he took us in.
“I’ll not interrupt except to say I love you both very deeply,” he stated.
And then he was gone.
Alex’s hiccoughing sob broke the air.
Mine followed it.
And we were in each other’s arms again.
Fellow captives.
A team.
Sisters.
I was moving down the back hall toward the kitchen, looking for Dair, because Mika told me she’d seen him heading back there.
It wasn’t lost on me that bumping into friends and family anywhere I went in Treverton was a balm to my frayed emotions. I couldn’t remember the last time Treverton had so many people in it, making the house come alive.
And there was never a time when there were so many people there that I loved, and they all hadn’t even arrived yet.
It was like we were making happy memories in the midst of a tragedy, and there was something beautiful about that.
This was a weird bi-product of Mum dying, but I’d be eternally grateful for it.
Just like I was grateful that Dair and I had a date to ride. Doing something we both enjoyed, and doing it together, would be another happy memory to add to that prized pot. Not to mention, I hadn’t been riding since the last time I was in England, and that was another reason I was looking forward to it.
I was in my jeans, those tucked into riding boots, and a sweater, ready to roll.
“It’s a problem,” I heard Christine saying as I closed in on the corner that would round into the kitchen. “He says he’s in mourning, which means he’s not budging.”
“I dinnae give a shite how he feels, he has to move,” Dair replied angrily.
So angrily, I stopped.
Why was he angry at Christine?
“I’m not one to tell tales,” Christine declared.
“You’ll be telling this one,” Dair demanded. “I have to know what I’m dealing with.”
There was a moment of silence before Christine spoke again.
“Because not as much staff was needed as in olden times, and he was having trouble retaining people who would live in, the old lord, Lady Helena’s father, had the staff quarters on the top floor converted to apartments in an effort to entice hires. They’re very nice. Sitting room. Bedroom. Little kitchen. A nice bathroom,” Christine explained.
