At that moment, Elspeth interjected, “I will send servants up to yer chamber to help ye pack if ye need help.”
Keira turned to her. “Thank you, that would be most kind.”
Raphael could see the pain in his mother’s eyes as well. Another innocent person who had been harmed by his past, simply for being someone close to him, someone who loved him. He curled his fingers into a fist, trying to keep a semblance of control over himself.
“We’d best go and start packing, then,” Keira said, finally turning to him.
He could see her nostrils flaring, her eyes boring into him a hole that would never be filled by anyone else. He would forever mourn her loss, but it was something he had to do.
Only, he couldn’t control himself any longer. With long, hasty strides, he walked out of the drawing room and slammed the door behind him. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. That none of this mattered. Keira would be safe and sound as soon as she was back in London, while he would be left to wither away here in, as she said, the middle of nowhere.
27
Seven days had passed. Seven long and painful days, which seemed to blend into each other. Day was night. Night was day. Nothing mattered but the fact that Keira had left, and she had not even said goodbye. Truth be told, Raphael hadn’t allowed her to. He had made sure to be out all day, from the early morning till late at night. So, even if she had wanted to, which he doubted, a goodbye face-to-face was impossible.
That afternoon, he was seated in his study, yet another day of him being unable to focus on anything. But this time, Dallas had decided to keep him company. Both men were sitting with drinks in their hands as if that might soothe the pain.
“Why did ye let her go?” Dallas suddenly asked.
Raphael had known that this question was coming, and he was actually surprised that his loyal friend had not asked it sooner.
Raphael looked into his glass, the amber liquid swirling within, and sighed. “I did it for her safety, Dallas. Ye see what happened with Gresham. She would always be in danger by me side, and I cannae bear the thought of her bein’ harmed because of me.”
Dallas regarded him, his eyes filled with understanding. “Love is always a dangerous affair, m’Laird. But it’s a risk worth takin’.”
Raphael’s gaze remained fixed on his glass. He knew that he had acted out of what he believed was the best course of action, but the pain of separation and the love he held for Keira still gnawed at his heart.
“Maybe some men simply arenae meant to be happy.” He sighed. “We’ve done bad things, Dallas.”
“We’ve atoned for them, m’Laird,” Dallas reminded him. “Ye’ve saved more people than ye’ve harmed. When ye set us all free from that bastard and his damned ship, ye found us a land to settle, ye brought our families to live with us… We are a clan now. A powerful clan. With people who care for each other. We’ve atoned for our sins.”
“Gresham wouldnae agree,” Raphael pointed out.
“People like Gresham dinnae ken to take responsibility for their own lives,” Dallas spoke wisely. “For whatever happened, it would never be his fault. It would always be someone else’s. Some people are like that, but nae us.”
“Nae us.” Raphael nodded musingly.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
“Aye?” Raphael called.
Both men glanced in the direction of the door, which opened momentarily to reveal the face of Raphael’s butler.
“Pardon me, m’Laird, but ye have visitors,” the old man said.
“Who is it?” Raphael asked.
Before the butler could reply, the door opened fully, and Jasper, Joan, Avery, and another man whom Raphael assumed was her husband walked in without even being invited. The look on the butler’s face was one of shock, and it amused Raphael. He nodded at the man, signaling that it was all right, and the doors closed momentarily.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of—” Raphale started, but he was swiftly interrupted.
“This,” Joan spoke, at the same time throwing an envelope into Raphael’s lap. He looked down.
The envelope was made from very high-quality parchment, exuding a sense of luxury and durability. It had a smooth and velvety texture, which invited touch, but Raphael refused toentertain that idea. It was of a soft ivory hue, radiating a sense of timeless grace.
Upon a closer look, Raphael noticed intricate patterns on it, a delicate filigree with a floral motif. It was larger than a standard letter, meaning that there was something important inside, something that needed ample space to be announced. The flap of the envelope bore a gentle curve, impressed with a wax seal with a family crest he didn’t recognize.
“What is this?” He frowned as his friends stood in somber anticipation.
