A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,3
will not do any good. He was not a pious man.”
As the brown-eyed woman began to slowly clean up the remnants of James’ meal, listening to the conversation, Rafe was focused on his inebriated tablemate.
“I am very sorry for you,” he said with soft sincerity. “It is a sad mission that you are on, then. I’m sure your mother appreciates that you are a good son.”
James sighed faintly, chewing on his lip because it was a bad habit of his. When he was frustrated or weary, or both, he tended to chew. His gaze was on the fire but his mind was on the brother he’d lost.
So long ago…
“A-A good son,” he muttered. Then, he snorted bitterly. “I-If you must know, I am a terrible son. I was supposed to go with him, you know. My brother, I mean. To Culloden.”
“Why didn’t you?”
His expression was filled with regret, with irony. “I-I had been struck down by a fever,” he said. “I-I could not leave my bed, so he left without me. Like a weakling, I stayed at home while he went north with the Lancaster Foot Regiment. A friend of his returned during the summer to tell us that he had been lost. And do you know how it happened? My heroic, foolish brother stepped in to help a failing regiment. They had lost their officers, so he went to help them. It cost him his life, the idiot. And he left me with a burden that is impossible to bear.”
Rafe was listening with sorrow. “I am certain he did not do it purposely, whatever it is.”
James smacked the table, pointing a finger at him. “T-That is where you are wrong,” he said. “H-He never wanted the duties that were expected of him, the burdens that the title would bring him. Did I mention that? He was the Earl of Worcester and hated the trappings. And that’s why he hated me.”
Rafe frowned. “Hated you? I do not believe one brother would hate another so.”
James drunkenly waved him off. “T-That is where you would be wrong again,” he said. “H-He hated me because I had freedom he did not. He hated me because I would never know the weight of what he had inherited. But I do know because those burdens are now mine. I believe he charged into that battle a-purpose simply to push those burdens onto me.”
Rafe had gotten more than he bargained for when he’d asked to share a young lord’s table. As he looked at the man, his expression was almost… gentle.
“What is your name?” he asked quietly.
James sighed heavily after his tirade and turned back to the fire. “J-James de Lohr, Earl of Worcester, Viscount Leominster, Warden of the South Marches, Lord Pembridge and Marston,” he muttered. “A-As you have noticed, I have a catch in my speech that is unworthy of such a position, as it has been suggested to me. School masters tried to beat it out of me, but it didn’t work. When Johnathan and I were young, he would tell me that I sounded like a Billy goat, which would only make it worse and when we would argue, which was frequent, I had to write him notes and letters because he would have me so flustered that I could not speak at all.”
Rafe dipped his head in a sign of respect. “My lord,” he said. “It is an honor to meet you. As for your brother… sometimes, brothers fight, but the fact that you are here to find his body and bring him home proves that you love him. As I said, you are a good son. And a good brother.”
James averted his gaze. “I-I have come because my mother asked it of me,” he said. “T-There is no other reason. Even if I cannot find Johnathan’s body, I must search for something he had on his person when he came here. Something valuable to my family.”
Rafe regarded him for a moment. “If he had something valuable on his person, more than likely, it was stripped of him,” he said quietly. “You are a soldier and you know this to be true. Bodies in battle are stripped.”
For the first time, James showed a measure of pain in his expression, but he didn’t answer. He knew that very unpleasant fact, even if he couldn’t speak of it openly. To speak of it would make it real, and as much as he shared a dysfunctional relationship with his brother, he couldn’t stand the