“I have always stood with you, and I will again, even in this. I really don’t want you to leave, Jason. Dear God, how I wish everything could be different.”
“Nothing can change now, James. Let it go.”
James knew when he was beaten. “Do you know that since Father moved Grandmother to the dower house, Corrie and I have decided to remain here, at least for a while?” He paused a moment, flicked his riding crop against his thigh. He wanted to tell Jason that their mother and father were worried sick about him, about the profound depression that had changed him from a laughing, carefree man into this silent one none of them really knew or understood.
Jason laughed, not the sort of laugh that made you smile back. It was a strained sound that held a good deal of loathing. For himself? James didn’t know.
“It wasn’t your fault,” James said, unable to keep himself quiet, though he knew well enough that it was something that Jason didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to talk about, probably didn’t want to remember for the rest of his life. But it had changed him, and James was scared for his brother, scared to his very soul.
“Ah, and whose fault would it have been then, James?”
That mocking voice was mocking himself, of course, and James hated it. “It was Judith’s fault. It was Louis’ fault. It was that dreadful woman’s fault who used poor Hollis.” He wanted to say that at least Hollis was smiling a bit more now, unlike Jason. “They were bad, Jason, bad to their black souls. There was nothing but greed in them. None of it was your fault.”
“At least Hollis didn’t retire.”
James grinned at that. “Mother’s punishment-forcing him to spend a week with our grandmother while overseeing her move to the dower house. He told me it was surely more punishment than a man deserved, even the man who’d believed himself passionately in love with a younger woman who was still older than our mother. Here he was, a loyal family member whose first mistake had occurred in the twilight years of his career. Mother laughed and laughed.”
But Jason didn’t smile at that, just nodded. “Yes, she handled him well, used exactly the right touch. She gave him his worth again.
“I will miss you, James. We haven’t been separated before, not like this.” He swallowed, shut up, and drew his brother into his arms, holding him tightly.
Jason said finally, pulling away, “I must go, James, surely you know me as well as I know myself and thus you understand why I must leave. There is nothing for me here. I will be back, you know. But I must-” He simply stopped, looked out over the fog-shrouded valley, then turned and left him. James knew he didn’t want him coming after him.
James stood on the cliff edge, the fog swirling about his legs now, the sun still hidden, and watched his brother stride to Dodger, who would be traveling to Baltimore as well. James had always said that Dodger was born to race the wind.
He looked after his brother until he was lost from view. He stood there for a very long time.
He was surprised to see that the sun had burst out, now shining brilliantly from high in the sky, the fog burned off. He was thinking of his brother, wondering if there wasn’t something he could have said to change his mind, some new argument he could use to make him slough off the terrible guilt, when he chanced to walk into the hidden Sherbrooke gardens and see his wife staring up at her favorite statue.
The sun seemed to shine even more brightly. He felt a leap in his heart. He came up behind her, kissed her neck, then kissed the squeak of surprise right out of her mouth. “Did I tell you this morning that I love you all the way to my boots?”
She pulled him close, then went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “No, you didn’t. I like to hear those words, especially from you. Ah, James, I do love you so.”
He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose, felt her burrow in even closer. “I see where your thoughts are, Corrie. I believe I am ready. I don’t need any lunch even though I have been working very hard all morning and my ribs are bumping against my chest. No, if you must have me right this minute, I will sacrifice myself. I am yours.”
Corrie Sherbrooke grinned like that masked smuggler whose identity hadn’t yet been discovered, and hooked a leg behind his knee, sending him to the ground.
“It’s not at all too cold for this,” she said once she was lying on top of him. “I would have thought it was, not above a minute ago, but not now, James.”
“That’s because you’re on top. Come along, Corrie, I won’t be able to do my very best with my back frozen to the ground.”
Douglas and Alexandra Sherbrooke watched their son and his wife racing across the lawn toward the gazebo.
Douglas said, “It’s too cold.”
“They’re young. The last thing they need is more heat,” said his wife as she hugged him. “I’m very glad that your grandfather built that gazebo. I wonder, do you think he was young once?”
