“Well,” she’d finally said after a prolonged skeptical silence; “whatever the reason may be, I hope it is resolved in due time. Not having my two favorite people together has been a hardship.”
Thomas had leaned in and placed a kiss on his sister’s temple before slipping out of the room. That had been the last time he’d spoken to her.
Thomas had to clear the emotion from his throat before he could speak to Nora directly for the first time in years. “How are you faring?”
Her achingly beautiful face softened from shock to wariness. It pained him more than he’d thought possible to see her looking at him thusly. “About as poorly as can be expected,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. It struck Thomas at his very core to see her so distraught. He wanted nothing but to enfold her in his arms and make everything right. “And you?” she asked, effectively stopping his pulse.
“Poorly,” he answered with a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. He was suddenly transported back into the body of histwenty-two-year-old self with an undercurrent of insecurity and nerves flowing through his every word and action. How could a woman do this to him? He was far more worldly than he had been eighteen years ago…so why did she set him on his back foot? The deepest, least-visited part of his soul knew why, and Thomas didn’t care for it.
Nora still had an unbreakable hold on him.
He’d done his best to ignore it for nearly two decades, but there had been a fluttering reminder of it each time he’d happened to be in her vicinity. Each glimpse of Nora caused his heart to leap uncontrollably; every snippet of her laughter made his muscles clench with remembered joy and passion.
Thomas heaved an exhausted sigh.
“What can I do for you, Lord Bexton.”
He nearly reared back at her formal use of his title. “There has never been such stiltedness between us, Nora, and I see no need to start now. Especially not under these circumstances.”
She merely crossed her hands before simple black skirts and her lips formed a taut, immovable line. It made Thomas squirm uncomfortably.
He cleared his throat to dissipate the sensation.
“I knocked, but there was no answer. I could see you standing in the window and…the door was unlocked.” He shouldn’t have entered her home, he knew that—no matter who technically owned the building. This was her sanctuary with Beth and he’d intruded upon it.
Invaded it.
Somehow feeling guiltier than before, he strode toward Nora, reached into the inner pocket sewn into his black superfine coat, and held out the sealed letter he’d carried with him from the solicitor’s office.
“What is that?”
“It’s for you. From Beth.”
Chapter Two
Nora emitted a small, sharp intake of breath and paled even further, if it was possible. Thomas’s muscles tensed, ready to catch her should she collapse; however, she remained steady and plucked the letter from his hand with fingers trembling only slightly.
She ran her gloved thumb over the thick red wax daub he knew was stamped with Beth’s custom-made seal of a stone arch. He’d believed it to be a poorly-drawn horseshoe the first time he’d seen it and he’d told his sister as much. Beth had been utterly appalled and berated him for at least a quarter of an hour for his ignorance and poor eye for craftsmanship.
“I remember when Beth had this made,” Nora whispered absently, still caressing the wax.
“As do I.” He tried not to smile at how their thoughts had parallelled.
“She fell in love with the story of The Lovers’ Arch from that dusty old book of myths and fairytales.” Nora gave a small,watery laugh. “She was convinced of the truth of it; determined to find the ruins and prove the inscription remained. Something about it resonated with her. It gave her hope, I suppose.”
The knife dug more deeply into Thomas’s chest. “And you two never did find it, did you?”
Nora shook her head. “Not for lack of trying. London is so very large and the stories are so very old. It is difficult to find where fact and fiction overlap, and what might have survived the centuries.” She held the letter to her breast and met him with her watery eyes. “We looked in earnest our first few years here in Town, but other pursuits quickly swallowed up our time. I think we both underestimated how busy we would be, even without the usual activities of attending parties and balls. Beth became quite popular, as you know.”
“As did you, I hear.” Thomas smiled, pleased that his words caused a momentary tilt of Nora’s lips. He didn’t doubt that she would have ruled thetonhad she given half a chance to take her true place in Society…had she followed through with their plans for her to become his viscountess.
“You know Beth was a force to be reckoned with. She demanded admittance into the most exclusive womens’ societies and foundations. She kept me writing letters for causes until my fingers bled.” A single tear escaped onto Nora’s cheek and she quickly dashed it away. “Even in the past six months when her spells became more frequent and intense, she refused to allow them to threaten her efforts.”
“She’d been experiencing more spells?” Why hadn’t he been informed by anyone? Why hadn’t Beth mentioned anything, for that matter?
“She tried to keep the news of her health as quiet as possible. She swore me to secrecy…not even your mother was aware of how difficult this year has been.”
Thomas swore. “You shouldn’t have had to be alone. You needed support as well.” Nora lifted a shoulder as if to dismiss his words, but he would not be cowed. “You did. You deserved as much care and assistance as you gave to Beth. She never should have asked you to remain her sole, secret caretaker.”
