“Nothing,” Valerie said. “It’s only…”
“The anniversary.” Edward acknowledged the importance of the day with a look of sympathy. “I try to put it out of my mind. What can I do to help?”
James shrugged. Every year it was the same, as the date drew near, he withdrew little by little, hiding in his study, drinking more, silent and brooding, and always wishing for an answer—what had happened to his Raven? For she had simply vanished.
“I know,” Valerie said with forced joy. “Let us spend the evening together in the drawing room. I will play the pianoforte and sing while you and Edward play chess.”
“And the servants can even join us,” Edward offered. “Let us celebrate having each other.”
Twas the kindest offer—more than he could have expected from them. They had their own lives to live now, studies to undertake, friendships to build, and family to love. But not James. He simply waited, for what he did not know, but he waited nonetheless.
The wind picked up and blew through the open doors, sending a stack of papers from his desk to the floor. Even the flames in the hearth faltered. Was the coming nighttime trying to tell James something?
“Thank you,” he said as he scooped the missives from the carpet. “Go and do what pleases you most. I am contented to stay here and contemplate my life, what future I have.”
Both his sister and brother hugged him, silently pleading for him to change his mind. But he wouldn’t. Not tonight. For this evening—he eyed the bottles of fine wine and Scottish whiskey on the table near the sofa—he would drink and then sleep heavily. And hopefully, by some miracle, dream of her.
Chapter Two
An hour later,as he had just finished half the bottle of wine and stretched with contentment, another knock at the door destroyed his peace. He sucked in an intolerant breath, ready to harshly chastise whoever dared disturb him again. Of course, there was one exception, and she peeked in at him—Valerie.
“James,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Of course.” He glanced at the mantle clock. “Tis only nine o’clock. What brings you back to my study so soon?”
“A nagging feeling,” she said, slipping inside uninvited.
“About what?”
She gazed out the open French doors, the breeze having eased off some. “Why do you sit alone in the dark every night? Why do you breathe in the chill? It could bring about your end.”
He leaned forward in the chair, taking in the vision of his lovely sister. He’d been a neglectful guardian and an even worse brother. Her sweetness reminded him of his Raven sometimes, her innocence and desire to make him happy. As if they had been born for one purpose, to see to his comfort.
“I was raised alongside the great sea,” he reminded her. “Practically born in the water. The salt air invigorates me, Valerie. You need not worry about me.”
“No?” She stood before him, so slight in size, yet so bold. She caressed his cheek affectionately. “I worry that one of these nights…” Her tender voice trailed off, her eyes drawn to the doors again.
“Yes?”
“Please, James, let us leave this place for a while. We could go to France. Italy. Even America.”
“America?” Where had that notion come from? “Have you been reading about that wild place again? Feeling sympathy for the fledgling nation of rebels?”
She folded her hands over her stomach. “There is something about that place that draws me to it.”
“Perhaps the newness. After living here over the centuries, our bloodline has become tainted with the dark and dreary, I fear.”
“No. Why should you say such a thing? We are an honorable family. Anyone would be happy to share our name.”
Yes, he supposed his sister was right. His family had unseated kings—killed Vikings, slew druids in order to preserve the Pope’s hold on Christendom in the ages gone by. To some, it read as romantically as a Gothic novel. But that history clung to him like a disease he could never cure. Why had he been born the heir to the earldom? If only he were a second son who could live for self-indulgence.
He stood and tugged her into an embrace. “Tonight is not the night to miss me so. Any other day of the year and I would welcome your company, sweet sister. You understand, don’t you?”
“I want to understand why you hold onto the past as if it will ever resolve itself, but alas, I cannot make sense of it.”
He gazed down at her, grateful for her honesty. “Pray you never know.”
She shivered under his touch, and he knew his words had struck her somewhere deep inside. “Every day is like a dark December night to me.”
