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He had shaken his grizzled head, then shrugged. “It was a bad business, the young lass stealing the elder’s choice. But—” He raised startled eyes to Daniel. “Don’t mind me, sir. I keep forgetting you’re not from these parts and don’t know all our past.” He waggled his head. “Must be that you fit in, whilehenever has.”
Such scorn smeared that word. Who exactly was the man downstairs? Sleepless wonderings about what this meant for the elder sister swirled in his mind all night.
And now the elder sister, who stood before him, looked wan and so weary.
“Hello, Miss Stapleton.”
Her lips lifted a fraction. “Good afternoon, sir.”
“I would ask how you are, but I suspect I know the answer.”
She lifted a hand to her hair. “Is it that obvious?”
“Your hair is lovely as ever.”
“Ah, it seems your strange sense of humor is still at play.”
Why did she not believe him? Memories floated of what had been said yesterday, and that hurt look when he’d all too blatantly admitted he saw little resemblance between the sisters. His stomach tightened. Did she compare herself to her rude and bumptious sister and find herself lacking? “Please, sit down.” He patted the chair by his bedside. “You look tired.”
“Why, thank you. One always appreciates being told such a thing.” She obeyed him nonetheless, shoulders slumping, her expression holding melancholy.
For all her care for others, she rarely seemed to be the focus of others’ concern and attention. The thought sparked protectiveness, a wish to help.
“Captain?”
He refocused. “Despite my limitations, is there anything I can do to be of assistance?”
“Can you spirit me away from here?” Her smile appeared, but without corresponding light in her eyes or her dimples. “Forgive me. There has been much to do with my sister’s arrival. We were not expecting her, you see.”
“How long will she stay?”
“I do not know. Mama is naturally overjoyed to have her here, and I am very glad for her sake.”
“Not for your own?” he dared.
“You think it strange that I am not more pleased to have her here. Iamhappy,” she insisted, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself, “but our relationship has always been strained.”
“I cannot judge at all. You know I loved my sister but should have made more of an effort to stay in touch.”
“Yes, but you were away fighting. And from all that Clara told me, your relationship with your brother-in-law was not convivial.”
“And your relationship with your brother-in-law?” he probed softly.
She glanced away, lips pressed together and blinks rapid.
Oh no. His chest tightened. He had no wish to ever upset her. “Miss Stapleton, please pardon my insensitivity.”
She shook her head. “He and I do not get on, that is all.”
What had this man done to hurt her? For hurt her he most certainly had. That wounded expression that wrenched his heart possessed a similar look to one Clara had worn. One of defeat, one of betrayal. Just whathadthis man done?
“Miss Stapleton, truly, I am sorry that I have put you in an awkward position.”
She shrugged. “It is not awkward. Well, not yet anyway.” A smile pushed past the melancholy. “When Lieutenant Musgrave arrives, that is when it may become awkward. You have not had more word from him?”
“Not as yet, but when I do, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you.”
