It seemed he had forgotten that of all his sisters, he was closest to Nora due to the same stubborn disposition they shared. And all he could do was balk as she took his glass from him with one hand and the new bottle with the other, walked away for a moment to drop them both on a table out of reach.
“Simon sent a letter to me yesterday, requesting my presence, because he was worried for you. He told me that you had not left your study in days and you barely eat. You haven’t slept either, in over a week. All of those are very concerning habits, dear brother. And once more, I must ask ? what do you think you are doing?” Nora asked, folding her arms.
Nora’s presence and the lack of a drink in his hands made Cecil feel staggeringly sober ? enough that he had become aware of how awfully tired he felt. And he understood that he must look just as awful, his mind and limbs heavy as he regarded his sister with rapidly fading patience.
“I am tending to my affairs, Nora. Do you not have enough of your own to keep you occupied? Must you now meddle in my life too?” he drawled without looking directly at her, reaching under his table to retrieve a bottle.
Cecil did not bother to find another glass, simply taking off the cap and downing a mouthful immediately. The burn was familiar, and the numbing that followed helped him keep the ache that had suddenly manifested in his chest days ago at bay.
“Perhaps yours needs to be meddled in, seeing as you have no intention to mind them appropriately. I cannot imaginewhat has caused you to be so distraught,” Nora sighed in disappointment, her expression softening a moment later. “Could this be about Penelope, dear brother?”
Cecil felt his body tensed up in surprise, his tongue suddenly weighed down by some strange force as he staffed stared silently at his sister. It seemed staying silent was the right idea, because Nora seemed to understand, regardless of the lack of words being uttered.
She sighed and walked around the desk, pulling along the chair that sat where she had been standing, dropping into it moments after it had been placed next to Cecil’s.
The silence continued, but this time, the air felt somewhat lighter, tinged with understanding and light without judgment. With a shaky inhale, Cecil cleared his throat, strangely spurred to say something to his little sister.
“I hated our father.”
Nora nodded solemnly, with her gaze fixed on the array of empty bottles seated on the desk. “I know. You had every reason to.”
“I think I still do. I do not believe that him being dead changes anything. I cannot fathom a world where I would have forgotten the resentment in me would have melted away. He did far too little for us – except when it was time to hurt and offend us. I did not – I do not want to forget about his transgressions, simply because he no longer breathes.”
Nora’s eyes remained forward, still trained on the bottles that seemed to gleam in the soft half-light that filled the room.
“You do not have to, Cecil.”
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when his shoulders drooped, and he let out a groan.
“I thought so. And in my anger – in the wrath I carried every day because I could never find the time to spit at him just how much I despised him, I still carried the philosophy of his life. I'd adopted the understanding that life was so simple. I got used to life being that way – within a margin that I could predict. I knew – I know how people work and I thought... I thought she was like everyone else. I never expected that things would progress as they had. I... I never expected that I would fall for her.” Cecil expressed, suddenly feeling the onset of the exhaustion he had ignored and fought off for days.
It was likely also because he had never allowed himself to admit just how deeply – how much he felt for Penelope. But he had run and run from the truth, thinking he had to keep it hidden at all costs.
As a result, he hurt her and allowed her to slip out of reach.
Perhaps... perhaps that was for the best. She was not suited to be with a man as flawed as he was. He bore too much of a resemblance to his father – though the mere thought of it made him sick. It was an undisputed truth he could no longer bury.
“I see,” Nora exhaled deeply. “I did not think it would take you this long to admit as much to me. I suppose the fault is mine, for underestimate just how irritatingly bull-headed you are.”
Cecil chuckled, the sound dry and humourless and dry even to his own ears, marvelling at his sister’s blunt nature – one she must have learned from her husband.
“It is hard to admit something you do not believe is possible. I did not believe that I could love that way. I am not suited for such... colourful forms of affection. Even less with her. She should not have to endure such awful things because I wish to consider these foreign feelings. I would ruin her life, Nora.”
“You don’t know that,” Nora said, sitting up straighter, her gaze gentle and imploring. “You cannot know that, Cecil, because you have yet to give yourself the chance to try. You have not lent any part of yourself to indulge in those affections properly. You have let your thoughts of your father corrupt your heart and turn it to a block of ice. But you must remind yourself that you are not the same man. Although his philosophies worked for him and appeared to also work for you, it was bound to go awry because you are vastly different people. He was far too selfish, too caught up in his own desires and needs, to think of how best to think of the family within his grasp. He valued other things above us. And it is all right if you wish to never forgive him for all the ways that he has wronged us. I only wish that you would not allow any of that to influence your life.
“He has wronged us far too much to still have any sort of control over us now, even in death. Is that what you would prefer? Tomiss out on the many good things’ life has to offer because you wish to let his sins taint the chances at happiness you were fortunate to come across?”
Cecil had never seen Nora like this, so passionate and desperate. The only time he could recall her being this emotional over something was when she and Godric had tried to stay apart before they eventually got together to be wed.
That was the first time he had realized just how big her heart was. He knew how deeply she loved, how magnanimous and gracious his sister was capable of being. After all, Nora was the only one who had deemed their father worthy of another chance.
She had done what she could to be there for him following her wedding, but that still did not convince him to be kinder to her in turn. Gregory’s death had shattered Nora more than anyone else, and Cecil had held her through the devastation, promising not to hurt her like that.
And still, he had managed to worry her so much. He had thought he could at least love his family better than his father had. But it seemed he was truly just like the man he despised.
What if he treated Penelope worse?
“You are thinking far too much, brother. I can literally hear all the ways you are trying to convince yourself that you are undeserving of her. But I need you to stop listening to that voice in your head and listen to me. Would I lie to you?” Nora asked, folding her arms across her chest.
