Cecil made a noise that sounded like a distress grunt and pointed at Nora.
“I have not been able to do anything because she has refused to tell me anything of consequence! I have my suspicions on the man responsible but I need her to tell me clearly, so I can –”
“So, you can what? Threaten him? Challenge him to a duel – and possibly leading to the loss of a life that would only upset her even more? God, it is as though you men only think with your egos and not much else. You have nothing to offer her in terms of assistance. Nothing that she actually needs. So, the least you can do is let her have some semblance of peace, Cecil.” Penelope told him, her cheeks flushed with frustration.
Cecil stayed silent for a moment as his eyes searched Penelope’s for a sign of some sort, then he lowered his gaze to Nora’s, frowning when she shrank back into Jane’s hold.
With a sigh, he turned around and left the room silently.
“Pompous twat,” Penelope mumbled under her breath as she walked towards the door to lock it before returning to Nora’s bedside. “I told you that if you put a spider into his bed enough times, he would eventually learn to behave.”
“Where would she even find a spider? Do not teach her to bully her older brother, Penelope.” Jane tutted, dabbing away Nora’s tears gently with her handkerchief.
“I wouldn’t have to if he would just –”
“I am in love with the duke.”
At Nora’s outburst, Penelope and Jane fell silent. When she said nothing else after a few minutes, Jane spoke gently,
“What happened? Did he reject you?”
Nora sniffed. “He might as well have. I did not even – I never got a chance to tell him. But he has made it clear he could never look at me in that way. He does not think such things are important, unlike other priorities. I had hoped that we could be more... after the moments we shared. But it would seem that I was the only one who felt as though there was something special between us. And now I do not know what to do...”
Her words broke off into a sob and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stay quiet as her heart broke all over again, the pain of losing something she had never believed she would ever find flashing through her all over again.
Arms wrapped around her, the embrace of her friends warm and secure.
“We’re here, Nora,” Penelope whispered fiercely, her tone losing the snark it had carried when Cecil was in the room. “Whatever it is you need, however long it will take for you to get back on your feet – we will be here for you.”
Jane nodded, tightening her hold on both of them.
“Always. We promise,” she said softly.
Nora nodded, her eyes slipping closed as she let herself relish in the feeling of safety and understanding that existed in that moment.
She did not know what the future would hold for her, did not know how she would move forward with her life. But she believed that with her friends, perhaps she might find a way.
At least, she could hope so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Godric had never particularly liked Luther’s estate.
There had been something heavy in the air when he had moved from the home he had once shared with his parents, to live with his uncle. Then, at that young age, still stricken with the horrors he had witnessed and the loss he had incurred, he had assumed it was the grief.
The grief they shared, which now bound them together tighter than anything else.
He had not been close to his uncle Luther, having only met him on a handful of occasions after his father had begged and begged for Luther to join them for a celebration or at an important event. And perhaps if he had been asked where he would have liked to stay, following the death of his parents, the odds were, Luther’s name might have been the last to leave his mouth.
If Godric had even managed to recall his existence at all.
But Luther had showed up the next morning upon hearing the news, his eyes bearing heavy pain that Godric felt resonated deeply with the one in his own heart.
And when he had stated that Godric would live with him, the young heir had not refused or kicked up a fuss. He simply followed what he thought was a natural course of action.
But then, life at Luther’s estate had been so bleak, he had found it hard to breathe for months. He could never explain it if he tried – not that he had someone to speak about it to – but there was an unbridled rage and emptiness within the walls, that threatened to suffocate him if he dared let his guard down.
Even after nineteen years, the discomfort he had know growing up was still noticeably present. Only now, he had an idea of what it really was now.
