he’s out of sight, I follow, sticking close to the many corners and nooks in Norfolk to hide me. Coming around one, I stop and move back into the shadows as Edward leans over her and whispers something.
From the darkness, I see her lift her head. “I fell in love with him.”
She doesn’t have to say more. Edward picks her up and carries her off—away from me and this world. I continue to follow behind them, watching as he helps her throw clothing into her bag. I lurk as he hugs her and places her in a car bound for London. When it’s driven far enough from the estate to be nothing but a speck in the summer twilight, I finally step from the shadows and move towards his side.
“Why?” he asks, not looking at me.
“You know why,” I say gruffly, not trusting myself to talk this through.
“You can still go after her,” he says, sensing my thoughts.
“Why prolong it?” I turn from him back to the house where my future waits—my duty and my punishment.
Edward calls out before I take another step, “Do you love her?”
I pause. I hear what he’s saying. This isn’t only about her and me. This is about this world. “Does it matter?”
I leave him there and return to my prison, ignoring the hollow space in my chest as my heart races back to London.
It’s for the best.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“So we’re back to this?” There’s no hint of disgust in Edward’s voice. Instead, he joins me, dropping into a chair across from me and grabbing the bottle of Scotch. I hadn’t bothered with a glass. He doesn’t either. After a long swig, he stretches it out to me.
I accept and take another drink.
“David still not talking to you?” I ask. I’m not entirely certain where the saying ‘misery loves company’ comes from, but it’s only half wrong. Misery doesn’t mind company, mostly because misery doesn’t give a fuck. That’s the point.
“He’ll come around.” I envy his certainty. Edward looks better than I do. He’s dressed in real clothes, or at least, fresh ones. His hair is combed, and his face clean-shaven. He pushes his horn-rimmed glasses higher as if he’s performing a similar inspection of me.
I know what he sees. My shirt and trousers weren’t wrinkled when I put them on yesterday. I’d been determined then. Right until the moment, I found a stack of newspapers next to my breakfast, each one containing speculation on the abrupt departure of Clara from the country this weekend.
“Do you know who sold the story?” Edward asks, guessing why I’m upset.
“Does it matter? All my friends are silver-tongued serpents. I have no one.”
Edward pauses a beat and reaches for the Scotch. He takes a steadying drink. “You have me, Alex.”
I blink, realizing he thinks I’ve lumped him in with Pepper and Jonathan and the rest of the troop of sycophants. “I know.”
“Do you?” he presses.
I swallow and force myself to confront the truth. During my days on the front, I had friends, close friends. They were scattered to the four winds now, vanishing to different lives. I knew better than to think a man like me would ever have a family like that again, makeshift and ragtag as it was. But I never really considered how alone my brother must have felt all these years. He’d been a kid when I left. Part of me had persisted in seeing him that way. But he’s not. He’s my brother. A friend. A place to start building a new family of my choosing. “I do.”
“So we’re friends?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly.
“Good.” He settled into the chair, dark eyes narrowing like a hawk. “So, how are you going to win her back?”
“I’m not.” My jaw clenches, and I wonder if all of this is some manipulation. But for what end? Clara will never want to see me again. She offered her heart, and I ripped it to shreds. I hadn’t even had the decency to see her safely home.
“Why?’ The question is pointedly simple.
“Because I’m no good for her,” I growl.
“You are not your title,” he says in a soft voice.
“You sound like mum,” I say wearily and wish I could swallow it back. “Edward, I’m—”
“It’s okay. I suspect that’s a compliment.” He’d never met our mother. She’d died giving birth to him. No one had expected her death, especially our father.
“It is,” I say carefully, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about being no good for her.” Edward didn’t know about the darkness