He turned back to look at Max. “I can see that.”
“But he will be happier now you are here.”
“No, he is better off without me.”
He felt Rory’s eyes on him.
“To feel unworthy is a heavy burden to bear,” he surprised Ash by saying. “I have felt this. Coming here and living among these people changed that.”
“It will not change me.”
“To live alone, I imagine, would be freeing, and yet also lonely. Love molds us into who we are,” Warwick Sinclair said. “It makes us think of others and not just ourselves. It makes us want to slay dragons for those that are hurting and bask in the happiness of those who glow from it. To live without is not something I ever wish to contemplate. It would be a half life indeed.”
Ash felt his back tense at the words. Hated that the happiness and love in this room was nearly choking him.
“What he said.” Rory nodded to Warwick.
Max gripped Warwick’s shoulder but merely said. “For today, I would ask you to simply be here for your brother and family. Tomorrow is soon enough to discuss more.”
He managed a nod around the tightness in his body.It was a half life, but he was worthy of no more than that.
Food came and went, and around him people laughed, and the spirits of all the guests but one, him, were merry. He was a man who lived a solitary life except for Baron. Ash had convinced himself he did not need more. He should not have come here; this had opened up a wound deep inside him that he’d thought was closed.
He looked at the wedding party once more. Somerset Charlton, his sister-in-law; his brother; and her. Dorset Sinclair. The woman who had saved his life. The woman he should thank again for her heroic if foolish act. And yet if his life had ended that night, there would have been little to miss.
He was constantly running from the demons. Running from the pain of what he’d done. The hell he’d survived. This, the life his brother lived, was for him but never for Ash. He did not deserve it, or any happiness.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“He is a fiercely handsome man.”
Dorrie heard the words Somer said to Gus. Her eyes found Ashford Charlton. He sat straight and still in his chair. In a group and yet distant. A stranger amidst people who were connected in their joy of the day and the union of Gus to Somer. Surrounded by those who carried her blood and others who were in her heart.
Fierce was the perfect word to describe him.
She’d known who he was instantly, just as he’d known who she was. For her part it had been the sudden tension inside her before she saw him. His face had been expressionless as it was now. He wore the dress of a gentleman. Trousers, waistcoat, jacket, and perfectly knotted necktie just like others around him. But his hair was long and loose. The nutmeg-brown locks had been fluttering in the breeze outside the church.
“Handsome” seemed to tame a word for the man who’d stood before her, tall, broad, and solid. His eyes were dark, fathomless. Thick dark brows rose above them, his lashes long. Hollows in his cheeks and the harsh edges of his cheekbones suggested he needed some of Dev’s cook’s plum buns. His mouth was unsmiling, and she thought when he wasn’t addressing a question asked of him, his teeth were clenched.
He was ruggedly beautiful. And she’d saved him, and he carried Raven blood. That fact needed to be kept a secret. Must be. If her family heard, they would leap to the inevitable conclusion that one day she and Ashford Charlton would end up married.
One look at the man Gus had once called a pirate told her he was not for her. Looking into those eyes, she’d felt a pain in her chest. Conflict, Dorrie thought. The man was full of it.
“He looks different to the Ash I once knew,” Gus said.
“Different how?”
Dorrie waited for Gus to answer, her eyes on Ash. His were on his plate. Alone, isolated. Not part of what went on around him.
“He has lost the softness. The laughter and fun. Ash always made me laugh. He was a man who enjoyed humor. He’s harder somehow. His face has even changed. My fear is that he has suffered greatly while I was loathing what I believed he had become.”
“You knew no better,” Somer said. “The man you love will be in there still, Gus.”
“I told him I was glad he’d come. And I mean that.”
“I can feel the relief inside you, my love,” Somer said. “As if the last of the tension you carried has eased. Yes, you need answers for what happened, but surely having Ash here is a start. That he came to find you.”
“Yes. I am relieved he is alive, and he did answer one question. I asked him if he’d no choice but to leave me the day I was stabbed in that warehouse.”
