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“Can we go somewhere? Spend the rest of the day together, just the two of us?” I asked, lifting my hand to stroke his cheek. He caught hold of it and pressed a kiss into my palm.
“Can’t,” he muttered. His lips twisted. “My father summoned me back here to give an account of my dealings in London. No doubt I will be required to spend most of the day closeted with him and the other son—the clever, dutiful one—listening to their assessment of my competence.” Although he didn’t move, I felt him withdraw from me and I turned my head to see what had attracted his attention. Cad was descending the stairs, having apparently paused on the half landing to straighten his cravat. I wondered how long he had been there, and how much of our conversation he had heard.
In the end, Eddie’s meeting with his father and brother proved to be short and disastrously stormy. Raised voices, with Eddie’s the loudest of all, could be heard emanating from Tynan’s study. This altercation was followed by a loud crash, after which Eddie burst from the room and dashed out of the house without hat or coat. As I grabbed up my cloak ready to follow him, I heard Porter giving instructions to a footman to go and clear up the broken decanter in his lordship’s study.
Eddie dashed along the path toward the cliff’s edge. He was only yards in front of me, but his long strides propelled him along so fast that I could not close the gap. My lungs were still not working to capacity after my bout of flu, so I did not attempt to call out to him. Instead, I tagged dutifully behind him, like a puppy after its master, struggling to hold my cloak in place against the biting cold. When Eddie reached the farthest point of the cliff top, I watched in horror as, without pausing, he leaned down and, with a hand on the grass simply vaulted over the brink. A scream rose to my lips, but it was whipped away by the playful wind. Dashing to the point where he had disappeared, I looked down over the arrowhead-shaped rim of the steep precipice. Eddie, instead of being dashed on the rocks below or engulfed by the swirling waves, was standing on a narrow rocky shelf a few feet below me. Although I was comforted to learn that he had not perished, I was, nevertheless, uneasy to see how precarious his current position was. His feet were mere inches from the edge and he gazed out at the granite ocean with a look of desolate yearning. Not wanting to startle him, I spoke his name quietly.
He didn’t turn his head. “I always think this would be the perfect place from which to write ‘the end’ at the bottom of the page,” he said calmly. “If I stepped out now, Dita, into that perfect, waiting oblivion, would anyone care? Or even notice?”
“I would notice,” I said, striving for an equally tranquil tone. “And I would care, Eddie. Because you are my friend, and I love you.”
“But you don’t know me. Not really. Do people ever truly know each other, Dita? Or is life just one long, cruel masquerade?” He lifted his head to look up at me then, and his face appeared young and lost.
“Can we continue this philosophical conversation somewhere warmer?” I asked through chattering teeth.
He laughed and, clambering easily back up to the top of the cliff, came toward me. I tried to hide my relief. “Christ, Dita, we can’t have you relapsing, can we? Let’s go and see if Mrs Webster can rustle up a couple of mugs of rum punch.”
“What happened, Eddie?” I scanned his face anxiously as we walked back to the house.
“Oh, I listened patiently for a bit while they told me what a mess I was making of things in London. I’m too easily swayed, apparently, not a strong enough character to stamp my authority on affairs. When my father suggested I should spend more time with Cad to get an idea of how he did things, I lost my temper somewhat.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d forgotten how quick Cad’s reflexes are. I’ll never know how he avoided that decanter, but it missed his head by half a whisker.”
“You could have killed him.” I couldn’t tell him, of course, that the shock in my voice was caused, not by this evidence of his violent temper, but by the thought of a world without Cad.
“I’m not that lucky,” he replied, the black mood lowering again abruptly. “It did make a mess of my father’s study wall, however, for which I daresay I should be sorry. I suppose it’s time to face the music.” We had reached the courtyard of Athal House, and Porter opened the door as we approached. He glanced fearfully at Eddie’s face as we passed. “Fear not, Porter,” Eddie told him jovially. “I’ve decided not to make any more attempts on my brother’s life. Well, not today, anyway.”
