Isadora gradually became aware that he was still soaking wet and that this was becoming her problem by proximity.
“James,” she said softly.
“Mm?”
“You need dry clothes.”
“I need to stay exactly where I am for another moment.”
“You are going to fall ill.”
“I will happily fall ill.” He lowered his lips to her forehead once again.
She laughed, and she felt him shift at the sound, felt him smile against her skin.
“I love you, Isadora,” he said against her forehead, low and certain. “Come home.”
She looked at the raindrops trickling down the windows and thought about choosing daily until the choice became instinctive.
“Yes,” she said.
She tightened her arms around him and held him closer.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 32
“You are taking my sister,” Letitia said, appearing in the entrance hall with her arms folded. “I want it noted that I am deeply unbothered by this turn of events.”
“You look very unbothered,” Isadora drawled.
“I am. I am completely at peace with returning to an empty wing and a desolate window and no one to discuss books with.” Letitia waved a hand. “Take her. I don’t need her.”
“You cried last night,” Isadora reminded her.
“I did not cry. I had something in my eyes.”
“Both eyes?”
“It was a very pervasive thing.” Letitia lifted her chin with great dignity, then abandoned it entirely and stepped forwardto embrace her sister. “Visit soon,” she murmured into her shoulder. “And write. Properly, not just notes.”
“I will write properly,” Isadora promised.
“With details.”
“With details.”
“All of them.” Letitia pulled back and looked at her with bright eyes.
William stepped forward, Cecily beside him. He shook James’s hand, which lasted slightly longer, and communicated in the specific pressure of it everything the past two days had contained and everything that did not need to be said.
“James,” he said.
“Thank you. For coming to me. For—” James took a deep breath. “I needed to hear it.”
“I know you did.” William nodded. “I am glad you came.”
They looked at each other for a moment, with all the history and the difficulty and the friendship that had survived both.
