Same dark skin tone, same chocolate eyes, same slight curl to his hair — and yet he was slimmer, taller, carried himself with more sleekness than Elijah did, reminding Joanna of a cat.
Then her focus returned to Lord Elijah, and she was struck by the confusion that crossed his face. He looked from one side to the next, taking in his surroundings, before his focus zeroed in on where the assault had come from.
Then just as suddenly he was charging toward them, his gaze fixed, his eyes narrowed, and Caroline let out a squeak before she grabbed Joanna’s hand and began pulling her deeper into the trees.
“This was a bad idea!” she called over her shoulder as Lord Elijah thundered through the brush behind them, Lord Alexander calling his name as he must have been in chase.
“I think we should have held our ground,” Joanna said, her breath coming in huffs. “We had all of our snowballs back there.”
“Yes, but he’s much stronger. And faster. And used to fighting.”
Joanna stopped so suddenly that her grip freed from Caroline’s and the two of them nearly went flying into the snow together.
“That’s it,” Joanna said, “he thinks he’s back at war.”
“What?” Caroline said, turning to her.
“I think the snowball in the face must have brought back some kind of war memory.”
Which made sense. If one was used to being targeted with bullets, then it would be difficult to suddenly realize the difference in ammunition.
“Lord Elijah!” she said, holding up her hands in front of her as he came running through the brush. “Elijah!”
He nearly ran her over, but came to an abrupt halt just in time.
“Miss Merryton?” he said, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re at your home,” she said, biting her lip, worried now that there was more wrong than a simple recollection. “Where do you think we are?”
“We’re… that is, I’m—”
He looked around helplessly, his eyes wild before they finally settled upon her, and Joanna could tell the moment they recognized her and settled into more peacefulness.
“What’s happening?” he asked, his voice nearly breaking with the words, as though it hurt him to have to ask.
“We are part of a Christmas party,” she said softly, so that no one else could hear, lest it embarrass him to have to be so explained to. “We are walking and skating, and Caroline and I lured you away so that we could hit you with snowballs.”
It sounded so immature, so ridiculous now that she said it aloud, the prank as bad as any that he had played on her.
“We thought it would be a bit of fun, a way to get back at you for your own pranks — and the trouble you got poor Thatcher into last night. But it appears we were wrong.”
“No,” he said, a guard coming over his face as his jaw tightened, “it’s fine. Of course I know where we are. And as for your scheme…” he paused, then reached down and began packing snow into a ball of his own. He grinned wolfishly, as though there had been no issue, as though all was right and fine in the world.
“You’d better run.”
Elijah crashed through the bush, chasing his sister and Miss Merryton, his arms full of the pack of snowballs they had so conveniently created for him. He told his brother to pick up the rest he hadn’t been able to carry. Alex had paused for a moment, as though uncertain of whether he should take part in this, but Elijah knew the moment he had relented, when that smile of old had crossed his face, the smile that told him he was interested and willing to join in whatever scheme had arisen.
Now it seemed like Elijah was soaring, even as his boots broke through the deep snow, which began to fill them and melt around his toes. It had been so long since he had done anything fun like this, since he had felt like himself.
He was back to the Elijah of old.
Yes, there had been a moment there where he had been taken back to the battlefield, when he had completely forgotten where he was and who he was with.
He had been hoping for so long that it would all go away, that he would return to the man he was before, but he kept finding memories vanished, moments blurred.
Right now, however, he let that all fall away as he chased after the women, who he was slowly catching up to, hampered as