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Amethysts. She’d like amethysts, especially large ones. The color was beautiful against her skin and hair.
If only, somehow, there was a way—before he could form a plan, he was lulled as well, inside the deepest sleep he’d experienced in months.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Unfortunately, Jay couldn’t sleep forever. Or more, Urs couldn’t. She’d promised to join Rachel and Lydia for one of Miss Gratz’s lessons and the three were out until supper, after which they retired to the upper parlor as a group. Their giggles floated down all evening.
Wonders never did cease. Urs was astounding. Who would’ve believed when they met that she’d listen—to him? Still, he missed her voice, her laugh, her presence all day.
If only he was in Urs’ bed, or she was in his, or there was some way he could be content for a moment once again. If he could just be, he could find a way, summon the courage he needed to make a plan, a real one.
Jay stared at the empty nook for yet another night. Ashes, ashes, and more ashes. If there hadn’t been a fire for months, why were there still so many ashes? Didn’t the servants ever clean it? The remainder of the house was immaculate. Why did he care?
He clenched his fists. Damn the summer for flying by so quickly. August and the end of the season loomed large. He sighed. He needed to sleep. He had to sleep.
Jay patted his pocket. The pipe was out of the question. Too many observant people in the house. The tablets though. Just one would give him relief.
He withdrew the pouch and slipped his fingers inside, grasping one. He stroked the chalky material. Just one. That was all. He could just take one.
No.
He couldn’t do that to Urs. She deserved so much better. He could be better. He could fight. He could win her, truly.
Can you? Do you really think so?
His cousins each spoke the questions, alternating in the back of his mind.
What can you possibly offer her?
Jay slapped his hands over his ears, but the voices wouldn’t cease.
Weak. You’re weak. I can’t trust you for one moment.
His father’s voice never left him alone. Any silence and it was there.
Sweat dripped down his brow, droplets falling in his lap. As soon as one dark circle disappeared into his robe another would take its place. He was doomed, hopeless.
A deep voice broke the silence. “A little late, isn’t it, Mr. Truitt.”
Blast.
He clenched his eyes shut, his throat burning. Why? He shoved the bag into his pocket, blood in his ears.
Still, he opened his mouth. If there was one thing he could do, no matter what, it was talk, address, make conversation.
“How was your evening, Mr. Levy?”
A rustling sounded and when Jay opened his eyes Urs’ uncle sat across from him, his legs crossed, staring, or more, glaring. He curled his lip at Jay, as if he were a mangy barn cat, a necessary evil for rodent prevention, but of little other value.
“Sleeping in a strange place can be difficult. How long have you been in my house though? Still not accustomed to the bedchamber yet? You have slept in there, correct?”
Jay said nothing. His jaw was too heavy to move.
Bernard Levy glowered and pushed his lower lip forward, his light gray eyes darkening under his knit brow. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone soon and won’t give it and anything or anyone here a second thought. How long will it take to forget her?”
Jay’s face was on fire. How dare he mock what he and Urs were?
“Frankly, sir, you know nothing about it or me.” He spit more than spoke the words. His tutors would deck him. Manners and charm were the one thing he’d always been able to do though now...he should be tossed out by his shirt collar.
