“The anniversary of his brother's death, my lady.”
That intelligence jolted her. “”Oh,” she said rather inadequately. “I didn't realize.”
“His lordship does not like to speak of it.”
Eleanor frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Cornby, Lord Wrexham had a severe nightmare the other night. Would that have anything to do with his brother's death?”
“I expect so, my lady. He always has bad dreams at this time of year.”
“Dreams of his brother dying?”
“Regrettably, yes.” The valet hesitated before adding with some reluctance, “His lordship usually spends a great deal of time riding, driving himself physically- I believe in order to make himself weary enough to keep away the nightmares. Although that does not always suffice.”
Cornby's revelation greatly dismayed Eleanor. “Did he give you any indication of when he might return?”
“No, my lady. Sometimes it is before dark, but sometimes it is late into the night.”
“So this has happened before?”
“Regularly, my lady. It is a yearly ritual with him.”
Her dismay only increased. Was Damon still punishing himself for being unable to save his brother? Eleanor wondered with a heavy heart.
It was then that Cornby's occupation caught her attention. He had paused respectfully when she entered the room, but now she realized he'd been occupied in tapping a small wooden cask and filling a crystal decanter with a dark amber liquid that looked and smelled like brandy.
“I suppose he plans to drink that when he returns?” she asked.
“Yes, my lady. I have standing orders to have a sufficient quantity of brandy on hand each year for the sad occasion.”
It concerned Eleanor that Damon hoped to find solace in an alcoholic stupor, but the reason for his nightmares distressed her more.
She waved a hand at the cask. “It is alarming that he is still tormented by memories. His brother died many years ago.”
“Yes, but I believe his lordship's grief was greater than normal, considering how close they were. Sometimes, apparently, there is a bond between twins that is not present between most siblings. It was difficult for Lord Wrexham to watch his twin waste away, suffering such terrible pain. I suppose you could say it devastated him.”
Eleanor winced inwardly, imagining how agonizing it must have been for both brothers. Of course Damon was still haunted by his twin's death. And he was enduring his grief all alone. She hated to think of it.
“I wish there was something I could do to help,” she said, her voice low and earnest.
“Perhaps there is, my lady.” Cornby was not immediately forthcoming, however. When Eleanor gave him a searching glance, he added quietly,”I dislike betraying Lord Wrexham's trust in me by speaking of him out of turn.”
“Please tell me, Cornby,” she urged, badly wanting to understand her husband better. “I am his wife now, but you know him better than anyone.”
The elderly manservant nodded yet still looked uncomfortable when he spoke. “I think perhaps it might do his lordship immeasurable good if he could unburden himself to a confidant. Of course it is not my position to advise you, but perhaps if you could speak to him…”
Eleanor was extremely glad to see that Cornby had his lord's best interests at heart. “I will indeed speak to him, Cornby. Thank you for suggesting it.”
The valet hesitated again. “My lady… perhaps… that is, you should not feel slighted if his lordship rebuffs any attempts at discourse. He is not one to let others close.”
Which was an immense understatement, Eleanor reflected, recalling how Damon had abruptly ordered her from his room the other night, despite the torment of his nightmares.
“You are extremely loyal to him, are you not, Cornby?”
“Yes, my lady. I am devoted to him. But he has earned my devotion. He is a fine master… and a fine man.”
She smiled faintly. “I agree with you-and I thank you for serving him so well.”
The valet bowed low. “It is my duty, my lady, but my pleasure also.”