Page 5 of His Unforgettable Bride
Quick as a pickpocket, a heaviness pressed against her chest, almost stealing her breath. “What will become of me?” she whispered to the night.
Although Juliet no longer believed in fairy tales, she wished she did.
Instead, a hard reality stared back at her. She was homeless again.
Two
No accomplishment within the scope of human knowledgeis so beautiful in all its features as that of epistolary correspondence.
Saturday
Your brother is dead.
Henry Graighton drew a trembling breath, dropping his mother’s epistle into his lap after reading the first sentence. “Dead.” Such an empty, hollow word.
“Who?” Henry’s valet and lifelong friend, Dobbin, closed the wooden wardrobe’s door inside the Victoria Hotel.
“Sutton.” It was easy for Henry to picture his older brother, almost like gazing in a mirror. Blessed with sturdy frames, they both had to duck through doorways. Their brown, wavy hair often misbehaved. Sutton’s dark brown eyes duplicated their father’s, and Henry’s matched their mother’s light brown hue.
“I am incredibly sorry.” The window behind Dobbin revealed a gray, early evening sky. The faint light also highlighted the young man’s posture, straight as a steeple. His blond hair was neatly combed, and his suit was impeccable as always.
“He was too young to die.” At twenty-three, Sutton was only a year older than him. “He was not supposed to perish, especially before…” Henry could not finish the sentence aloud. But the ending echoed in his heart—they forgave each other.
But honestly, how long would that have taken?
Henry’s heart swelled and pressed against his rib cage. From where he sat in a wing chair, mere feet from the hissing fire in his elegant room, he focused on his breaths, striving to keep them steady.
A couple of hours ago, the royal ship had arrived in Esquimalt Bay, where patchy hints of fog had settled over the water. There, his entourage transferred onto a smaller vessel to reach Victoria. Most everyone had already settled into their rooms in the establishment.
Mother’s waiting letter was not the greeting to the island he had anticipated. According to the hotel proprietor, the correspondence had arrived several weeks ago, which meant the news was old.
He could admit that he had fallen behind on the itinerary his parents had meticulously honed for his one-year worldwide sojourn. Because of the interesting people he had met, he had extended their stay in San Francisco an extra week. But had he not done the same in Portugal, Morocco, and Chile?
His parents’ goal, and the purpose of the trip, was for Henry to grow up and settle down. Or, in his father’s words, “Stop your irresponsible pursuits.”
But obviously, he hadn’t done that yet.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Dobbin asked.
“No, do as you wish. However, I beg you to play the role of friend tonight and nothing more.”
“Certainly.” Dobbin sank into the plush matching chair on the other side of the fireplace. “What happened to Sutton, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Of course not. I was about to learn that myself.” Henry retrieved the letter from his lap and read aloud,
“Your brother left this earth during the night after suffering from pneumonia. He disregarded the seriousness of his ailment until it grew too dire to ignore. How unlike him not to heed the royal physician’s advice.”
The stationery crinkled as Henry's fist tightened. "Sutton displayed his stubborn side every day of the week, but how dare he jeopardize his health? Risk our country's welfare?" Henry shook his head. "More than once, I heard him claim he led a charmed life."
"Perhaps an accurate statement until recently."
Henry smoothed the crease with his finger. "Mother also writes ...
“You shall soon receive an official notification from the palace, but I wanted you to learn the news from me first. The King is beside himself. Naturally, we are all devastated. It is a loss, but we understand God numbers our days according to His plans.
“Son, I am confident this letter cuts deeply even though you have worked hard to carve the distance between you and your brother.”
Had he? His mind wandered back to a day when he was eight. “Do you recall when we raced ponies with Faith as children?” She was not only a family friend but also Sutton’s eventual fiancée.
