“Wonder what?”
It was a heartless thought, but James couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
“Maybe it might have been better if he’d never known her at all.”
“Don’t say that.”
James and Francis both turned to see Colin at the door. His usually swarthy face was ashen, his cheeks hollow. But his dark brown eyes were fierce with emotion.
“Don’t ever say that,” he rasped out again. “Ilona was…is my light. I’d suffer this pain a thousand times over without regret for having known her. Hers was…”
Colin paused, choking back tears that clogged James’s throat as well. He ached for his brother.
“Hers was the kindest spirit I’ve ever encountered.”
“You’re right,” James agreed for it was the truth. “Absolutely right. There’s never been another as kindhearted. All of Ilona’s strength was spent on the kindness and love she showed us all. We were the lucky ones. You the luckiest of us all, I guess.”
“Aye, I was.” Colin nodded down at his hands, fiddling with a length of black fabric in them. His chin trembled visibly but he held himself together admirably. “Francis, there’s a stain on this tie I’d thought to wear tomorrow. I was wondering if you had another I might borrow?”
“Of course.” Francis rose and crossed the room quickly. He clapped a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “I’ll help you find something.”
“Nothing black,” James surprised himself and them both by saying. “Pick something Ilona would have liked, not something everyone expects of you. I’ve discovered lately that there’s greater satisfaction in doing what you want rather than what everyone expects of you.”
Colin nodded. “You’re right. She always hated this one anyway.” He balled up the black tie and shoved it into his pocket. “Thank you, Jamie. And for coming as well. It was a long journey for you.”
“I wanted to be here.”For you, he added silently.
His brothers gone, the library falling silent, James was left to his own, introspective thoughts.
CHAPTER 32
Love is the vital essence that pervades and permeates, from the center to the circumference, the graduating circle of all thought and action. Love is the talisman of human weal and woe—the open sesame to every soul.
~ Elizabeth Cady Stanton
Ladies didn’t generally attend graveside services in polite society. Gentlemen came to pass on the condolences of their wives and mothers, leaving them to mourn at home. One didn’t normally come without an invitation either, but despite the dreary day, the constant drizzle of rain, Ilona’s funeral was chock-full to the brim with men, women, and even children. Family, friends, and acquaintances from all walks of life. Black umbrellas created a tight canopy over those gathered in the small family cemetery at Glen Cairn, and dotted outward with those overflowing the fenced area and sprawling over the hillside with all manner of conveyances waiting beyond.
A sweeter lass had never lived. A kinder one. The crowd assembled proved that.
James didn’t bother with an umbrella. The rain wasn’t heavy and simply put, it provided reasonable explanation for any other droplets of water that might land upon his cheeks.
A slow burn built in the center of his chest. Grief, misery. Loneliness. Just as always, he was a pace away and slightly apart from the whole of the MacKintosh clan. Alone. No hand to cling to, no way to draw strength from another. For the first time in his life, he truly wanted that.
His gaze drifted to the family assembled behind Colin. Francis had his arm around Eve and his other hand resting on the shoulder of the boy standing in front of him.
Laurie Ashley-Cooper was Eve’s son from her first marriage to the Earl of Shaftesbury. A stepson to his brother, but one who couldn’t have been more of a son than Francis’s own.
James reckoned that could be him some day with Ellis. Laurie was about the same age as Ellis. So different from one another, but they might make good friends. Ellis might rub off a little of Laurie’s polish, perhaps take some for himself.
Eve clung to Maggie, who stood between her two daughters, comforting them both. Kitty also had Haddington’s arm tight around her.
His eyes moved on. Tam and Ian, the twins, close as always, subtly leaning toward each other. Then the youngest two lads, Connor’s hand on Dorian’s shoulder. His sister, Fiona, wept silently against Aylesbury’s shoulder. Vin and Moira, Richard and Abby, Sean and Coline—the picture around him was much the same. Consolation. Shared grief.
Each had someone to cling to, someone to lean on. To draw strength from. He’d been missing out on that connection his whole life. Companionship. Friendship. It’s what had always been missing from his life. Someone who needed him.
God knew Prim didn’t need him. She could live without him handily. But looking around at his siblings again, James realized there was something more to being needed than he’d thought.
Across from him, at the center of the family ranks, Colin stood stoically with his bright yellow and white striped tie sticking out in the sea of black. He stood without a hint of outward grief, hollow as if he were but a shell of the man he’d been a few days before.
