To Romance a Charming Rogue (Courtship Wars)

“I would indeed put it that way!” Eleanor made a sound of disgust. “And that is precisely what you are doing now. You fear lovin

g me because you can't bear the thought of losing someone else you cherish. So you have closed your heart to me entirely.”

Not allowing him to answer, Eleanor jumped to her feet and began pacing in front of him while she ranted. “It infuriates me that you are wasting your life this way, Damon! What happened to your brother and your parents was tragic, but you cannot let tragedy ruin your life forever!”

“I realize that,” Damon acknowledged.

But Eleanor did not seem to hear him. “You are not to blame for Joshua's death or for being unable to save him. You are not a deity, Damon. You cannot control who lives and who dies!”

She was practically shouting, so his quiet “I know” was lost on her.

“I won't let you shut me out of your life, either!” Eleanor exclaimed.

“I don't intend to shut you out, Elle.”

That at last seemed to get her attention. She whirled on him, still glowering, her hands on her hips.

Damon cocked his head as he gazed up at her. “Now that you have gotten that off your chest, will you allow me to get in a word edgewise?”

“No, I will not! I am not finished berating you yet.”

Even though her fury was clearly not over, however, she returned to sit beside him, and her voice softened to something resembling a plea. “You have to talk about your brother sometime, Damon. You cannot continue to keep all your pain inside you. An unhealed wound will only fester.”

He knew what she was asking. He needed to bare his soul to her. More crucially, he had to open his heart to her.

“What do you want me to say, Elle?”

“I want you to tell me how you feel instead of always denying your hurt. I want you to be able to talk about Joshua with me. I want to know all about him. What is the best thing you remember about him from when you were boys?”

Damon frowned. It wasn't easy to speak of his brother, or to deal with the grief that still festered inside him. But he found he wanted to share this with Eleanor.

“Joshua was my closest friend,” Damon finally said in a low, rough voice. “Losing him was like losing a limb. But it was the way he died that was most painful. Watching him suffer as he wasted away to a pale skeleton… I would rather have died myself.”

“That is why your nightmares are so tormenting, isn't it? You relive his suffering and are helpless to save him.”

“Yes.”

Her brows drew together in compassion. “Mr. Geary said he tended Joshua's sickbed. Was there nothing that could be done to relieve his suffering?”

“The best we could do was to drug him with laudanum so he could find oblivion from the pain for a few hours at a time.”

Eleanor fell quiet for a moment before she reached over and slipped her hand into Damon's. “You and Joshua must have had good times together before he fell ill.”

Damon nodded, remembering. “Our boyhood was everything a boyhood should be.”

“Would it help if you tried to think of the happy times instead of his last days?”

“Perhaps.”

“What if you had something to remind you? Do you have a portrait of Joshua when he was still healthy?”

He shrugged. “There is one of the both of us when we were fourteen, hanging in the gallery at Oak Hill.”

“Your family seat in Suffolk? I would like very much to see it.”

Damon felt himself stiffen. “That would entail visiting. I haven't spent much time there except for duty calls. I have an excellent factor who manages the estate so I am not obliged to.”

“Let me guess. You have avoided your home all these years because Joshua died there.”