"I mean that as a genuine question, not a pleasantry."
"I'm all right,” James said again but with a bit more steel to his voice this time.
"James."
"Damn it, Daniel. I am all right."
"For a man who is all right, you look like you haven't slept in three days. You've been—" Daniel shook his head. "I've been watching you since we arrived, you know? You've been carrying something. I thought it was the usual weight of you being you, but this morning you look different. And I don't know if it’s the letter or something else but I’m concerned about you."
James was quiet for a moment. He looked at his brother, at the open worry on Daniel’s face, and wished he could make the burden go away. But he had nothing to offer.
"It's the letter," James finally said. "Chopwell sitting in France looking well. Laura in the house. Everything it brings up." He paused. "It's a great deal to manage all at once. That’s all."
Daniel’s brow furrowed further. "That's all it is?"
"That's all it is," James lied.
Of course, those things were real and they did weigh on James. But he was declining to mention the other thing that was weighing on him, a certain young woman in the library at midnight with his late wife's book of sonnets in her lap and the way she had said ‘I care’ as though it were the simplest thing in the world.
Daniel held his gaze for another moment. Then he released a breath. "Wells said stress…He said to manage it."
"I know what Wells said."
"I'm simply reminding you."
"I know you are, but I don’t need a reminder. It is ever-present in my mind." Then James picked up his quill. "I'll write to Burroughs this morning. Go and have breakfast with your wife, Daniel. It's your wedding day."
"It's the day after my wedding day."
"Then go and enjoy the day after your wedding day."
Daniel looked at him once more, with that same careful attention that James had never once in his life been able to deflect entirely. Then he stood.
"Come to breakfast when you're done," his brother said. "Cait will notice if you don't appear. Then she will ask me questions that I won't want to answer, but I’ll answer anyway because Cait can always tell and?—"
"Half an hour," James said.
Daniel nodded and left.
James sat alone with the fire in the hearth, the rain against the window, and the letter on his desk.
He retrieved a fresh sheet of foolscap, dipped his quill, and began to write.
Breakfast Room
Acklan Castle
Cori had come down to breakfast earlier than was strictly necessary.
She was not, she told herself, looking for anyone in particular. She simply preferred an early breakfast. She always had. Besides, there was nothing unusual whatsoever about being the first of the guests to arrive in the breakfast room at Acklan on the morning after her sister's wedding.
She was absolutely not hoping to see James Westham before the rest of the house descended. And she was absolutely not thinking about their kiss in the library.
Still, James was an early riser. So, if he happened to come down to breakfast before the rest of the party…
As though to mock her, his chair sat empty.
Cori took her own seat, accepted coffee from the footman, and looked at the empty chair at the head of the table with an expression she hoped would convey nothing in particular to anyone who might appear.
