…
The evening sun burned low in the sky, slowly slipping behind the mountains in the distance. The cool breeze sweeping across the land, the twinkle of sunset glistening atop the lake, the fresh, crisp scent of the air did not bring the joy to which Alexander had been accustomed. A painful, aching tightness lingered inside him, and at the crest of each dawn, that lingering torment only increased its intensity.
It was a little more than a week since Kitty Danvers had left Scotland and his life. The bleakness he endured had nothing to do with the fact that he had not left his wheeled chair in the wretched nine days she had been gone or because it would take weeks, possibly months to regain his ability of leaving it for even a short time without severe discomfort. He had pushed himself for too long because he had desired the sense of normalcy he had dreamed of in her presence.
But his body would heal, his strength was returning, and eventually he would find himself out of the chair again, even if it was only an hour or two each day.
This emptiness was all because of his stupidity in pushing her away.
Nothing stirred within his gut any longer. No burst of heat, no fleeting flash of pleasure. He had consulted a few days’ past with the more open-minded Dr. Grant, who believed the re-inflammation of the bone might have had a deleterious impact on his awakening manhood. The man had once again suggested self-ministration, but Alexander had not attempted to try.
The soft crunch of footfalls echoed, and Penny came up beside him. Dressed in a red carriage dress with a matching bonnet, she looked the epitome of an elegant young lady. The picture was ruined by the small piglet clutched lovingly in her arms.
There had been a strain between them, for he had arranged for her to travel to London. The season was quickly drawing to an end, but there were enough weeks for her to take to society and charm them with her lovely manners. He was confident of her grace, poise, and wit. He trusted his godmother to take care of his sister. Her inheritance of sixty thousand pounds and her dark beauty would see many gentlemen flocking to court her, and Alexander expected the man she decided on would be understanding of her quaintness and sometimes unchecked opinion.
“There are those who will think you are eccentric if you take…piggy with you,” he said, staring out at the lake.
Penny sniffed. “I do not care what others think; you’ve taught me that.” She shook her head, wiping moisture from her eyes. “I do not want to go, Alexander.”
“You cannot remain buried here in Scotland. You are seventeen. It is time to meet other young ladies of your society. Expand your wings and mind.”
“And dancing at balls will do that?” she demanded scathingly. “I doubt it!”
“What are you afraid of?”
Her breath hitched, and her calm facade crumpled. “Leaving you here…to be alone.”
His heart cracked. “I am never alone. The memories are always with me.”
She shook her head, her eyes fixed anxiously on his face. “Memories are fleeting and insubstantial.”
“They are real enough.”
“I can barely recall Mamma’s face or her scent or her laughter. I remember through you. The stories you tell me are how I keep them alive. Sometimes…I fear if I leave here, I will forget them entirely.” She cast him a sideways glance, her eyes large and wounded. “Do you fear that, too…that if you leave, all memories of our parents will vanish as ashes do in the wind?”
“I do not,” he said gruffly. “Leaving here and living your life is not a disservice to their memory. That is what Mother and Father would want. For you to have a season or two. Marry well, have a family of your own.”
Her chin lifted stubbornly. “And if I have other dreams?”
Alexander smiled. “Such as?”
She tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ears. “What…what if I want to travel the world, too? Visit the great sights?”
“Then I’ll support you, always.”
“I’m the daughter of a duke. Society will have different expectations of me.”
Her earlier confidence had dimmed, and she now sounded young and uncertain.
“Hang society. You are the sister of a duke, and I will support you in any endeavor. Within reason, of course.”
Penny chuckled. “I’ll not do anything to embarrass you.”
“That I believe is impossible. You are planning to carry the pig to town.” They remained silent for several moments and stared at the beauty of the lake and the lowering sun. “I’ll visit you in London,” he murmured.
She hurried to stand in front of him, blocking his view of the starlings gliding over the lake and dipping low with such swift grace to fish.
“Do you promise it?” she whispered fiercely.