“And my brother knew of your existence before the surgery?”
“Aye, m’um. He were gonna take me to London with him. Be his errand boy.” Releasing her hand, he dashed up the grand stairway and paused at the top, peering down at her. “How long till ye think he’s a’right and we can leave?”
She sighed as she ascended. Oh, for the innocence of youth. “I wish I knew.”
Nemo hopped on one foot then the other while waiting for her near the tea tray. The lad was so full of life. So exuberant. As if he’d been freed from a cage and let loose in a wide world of wonder.
And wonder was exactly what pressed in on Amelia, making it hard to breathe. All the wondering, the heavy weight of not knowing what to do. And now with a boy to work into the equation as well.
She paused in front of Colin’s door, her own sanity about to snap. She needed time alone. To think. To pray. To plead for guidance. But how was she to do so with a brown-eyed imp sniffing about the seedcakes?
“Betsey!” she called down the corridor, hoping by some slim chance her maid was even now brushing out a gown in her chamber instead of busying herself below-stairs with Mrs. Kirwin or Cook.
Grey skirts billowed out of Amelia’s room. Just the sight of the sturdy maid loosened a bit of the tension in Amelia’s shoulders. She could be counted on, this woman, as proven time and time again.
“Yes, miss?” Betsey stopped in front of her, glancing at the boy with a stern eye.
Nemo quit his hopping and darted behind Amelia, still as death.
“Would you mind serving tea to my brother and his guest, Master Nemo? I need a moment to myself.”
Betsey dipped her head. “Of course, miss.”
Reaching behind her, Amelia shepherded the boy out of hiding. “Go on. Betsey doesn’t bite. And if you ask her nicely, she might take you down to see Cook for more seedcakes when I return. Would you like that?”
He gave her a solemn nod, then with a wide berth around Betsey, he sidled into Colin’s room.
“Do not leave them alone, my brother and the boy.” She tipped her head towards Colin’s room. “I shall return shortly.”
Betsey’s brows arched.
But Amelia didn’t give in and instead turned on her heel and dashed to the sanctuary of her own room. How could she possibly answer her maid’s questions when she barely had answers herself?
Closing the door, she leaned her back against it and allowed all the excess emotions of the past week to well in her eyes. It was too much. Everything was too much. What was she to do now, with a boy to care for as well as a brother who was often more mad than sane? Would the bouts of lunacy eventually fade?
Please, God!
She pushed from the door and strode across the rug, gathering her handkerchief off her dressing table and pressing the cloth to her eyes. Though she’d had a brief glimpse that the real Colin was somehow trapped inside his ungainly body, the fact remained he was very much out of his mind most of the time. A ruined brain to go along with his ruined body. There was no way she could leave him here at Balfour House to recover on his own, especially since she’d been the one to urge his surgery in the first place. And for what? To satisfy a father who was overbearing to the last of his life? Why had she so willingly gone along with his wishes? A heavy weight of guilt descended, sagging her shoulders.
Setting down the kerchief, she pulled out a small drawer to retrieve the tickets to Cairo, wishing she’d read the departure date wrong. But no. In a mere three days the ship would sail, and if she wanted to be on it, she had no other choice than to commit Colin to St. Peter’s, where he’d be watched day and night. For hemustbe watched, lest he stray from the house and frighten half the population of Clifton and Bristol combined.
The only other option was to do the watching herself. She and Betsey. But doing so would be the death knell to her traveling and writing. She stared at the tickets, the ugly dilemma tasting like bile. Should she really give this up? Could she?
What do I do, God?
She crushed the tickets to her chest and closed her eyes. She’d not be given another chance like this. Mr. Moritz had made that painfully clear. It would be so easy to leave. Pack her bags and bury herself in a foreign culture, forget all about her current woes…just as she’d done seven years ago. But then she’d been running from a cruel father and a brother she barely knew. And now?
My, how things had changed.
She bowed her head, the edge of the tickets cutting into the tender flesh between thumb and forefinger. Now she knew the depths of Colin, understood the man locked inside that horrendous body and broken mind. A brother she loved. The only family member she had left.
Graham’s words, spoken so soft and low on that glorious day at Brandon Hill, suddenly came barreling back.
Family, no matter the size of it, is precious. Never leave a loved one behind.
Her fingers shook. Her arms. Her legs. All those years of walking in perfection, saying the right things, meeting the right people, advancing in a world of men…none of it mattered anymore. Graham was right. Even now, wondering what people would think if the worst were to happen—if Colin did not regain his faculties—just did not matter. She loved her brother, imperfect, broken, yes, even mad, though he be.
Just as God loved her, as imperfect and broken as she was.
