Mari turned, Rhys also, their skin drained of blood.
Stumbled to their feet.
Then…
Cacophony ruptured the silence.
Clamour and cries, wails and chaos.
Bodies mobbed him like besieging gulls.
She ought to stand, be one of them.
Yet her limbs were numbed.
Lord Tristan Cadogan.
Her Tristan.
How could it be?
One hand shifted to her eyes, realised tears were silently streaming, that everyone was crying.
Rhys’ palms were clutching his brother’s cheeks, Mari was weeping into his chest, Elen was sobbing and Mrs Pugh was bawling into her black apron. Even Captain Brecken and his sister were standing in stunned silence, dabbing at their eyes.
Gwen stood also, knocked a console table to the floor as she stumbled toward him.
Rhys smothered his twin brother in another embrace, and over his shoulder, Tristan opened his eyes. Stared to her.
She choked, reached out her fingers…
“Lady Gwen,” he rasped. “It’s been so long.” Then his eyes closed and he clutched his brother close.
She…faltered.
Fingers dropped to her skirts.
For his look had been…distant. No shared tenderness had been etched within those familiar but haunted green eyes. Just affable acknowledgement.
Her own eyes craved him, what she saw paining her: haggard brow, ragged attire, unkempt black hair, deep grooves bracketing his pressed lips.
Rhys drew back, arms to Tristan’s shoulders, muffled words spoken, Elen pushed the door and the family commenced walking from the room, Mari tucked beneath her father’s arm.
Gwen remained. Motionless. An outsider.
“Gwen?”
A hand appeared on her shoulder although she felt it not.
“Gwen?” Isabelle held her and wiped at the tears on her cheek. “Won’t you come to the study with us?”
“I… No,” she whispered. Needed an instant to breathe. “Perhaps this…this moment is f-for…family. Mari and Rhys.”
Isabelle frowned but nodded. “I will go with them. Find out all. But I shall return soon. Do you need anything?”
“I cannot believe it, Isabelle. Tristan was…here.” She looked at the space he’d occupied. Now no trace of him. “Wasn’t he?”
“Indeed, he was.” Isabelle glanced to the hallway as a Mari-like wail emanated. “I have to go but… Captain Brecken, could you fetch Gwen a brandy? I shall return. As soon as I know more.”
