“I would not have allowed it otherwise.”
His brother’s mouth opened, then closed again.
“Mother?”
“Alive.” He hated that woman with every fiber of his being.
“I looked for you and Maddie. I need you to know that, Rory. After I met Essie, I realized what I had left behind—”
“I don’t want to hear your lies.”
“And yet you will.”
“There is nothing you can say to me that changes how I feel about you. Now leave.”
“I left you and Maddie at an age when you needed me, I know that, but it was—”
“Be quiet!”
“Your anger is valid, Rory, but still you will listen to me.”
“I care nothing for your need to assuage your guilt. I want you to leave this room and not return.”
An ugly silence settled between them, the distance much greater than the few feet separating them.
“Very well, we will speak on it no longer, but I must know if there is danger for us, seeing as you were found bound and with a bullet hole in you. Is my family safe from harm?”
My family.The words cut through Rory with the accuracy of a sharp blade. He’d once been Max’s family.
“No, there is no danger to you or yours.” The danger was now back in France, and he would get there soon, and someone would pay dearly for what was done to him.
“You are one of mine,” Max said slowly.
Rory closed his eyes and said nothing. He knew Max looked at him, felt his eyes.You are one of mine.The words gave him more pain, when he’d vowed this man would never hurt him again.
“Will you tell me how you came to be here in Crunston Cliff, Rory? What happened to you?”
“It is of no mind. Your family is safe.”
“You are still my family, but for now I will push no more. When you are ready to tell me, I will be here. Just as one day soon you will listen to what I have to say. I will have my answers, brother, make no mistake in that.”
“Go to hell, Max. After all, it’s where you left us.”
Chapter Six
Surprisingly, Rory slept again and guessed something in the tea he drank had contributed to that. His head felt clearer when he woke, and the ache in his shoulder had dulled but was still steady.
Looking to the closed curtains, he saw a sliver of light and realized it was morning.
Swinging his legs out of bed, he sat on the side and let his head stop spinning.
Yesterday he’d been strong; now he felt like a newborn child. He found his clothes neatly folded on a chair, slowly he made his way across to them.
Pulling on his breeches wasn’t easy with one hand, but he managed. There was no shirt, only his jacket. After forcing the tails of the nightshirt into the waistband, he contemplated his heavy coat. This was going to hurt. Picking it up, he slid his injured arm into the sleeve, biting back a moan of pain, then managed to get his other arm in. Breathless, he took a minute to rest before buttoning it with a great deal of effort to the top. Once done, he slipped his hand into the right breast pocket and felt the worn edges of wood.
It was still there.
Breathing slowly, he steadied his racing heart before pulling on his boots.
