Page 65 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
“You must not do that, either.”
He glanced at her. “How can I not? I ought to have returned to London, the first time he mentioned it. I do not belong here. I have never belonged here. Why did I think I could run this house, when he already had control of the reins?”
“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he was to lead the Ribbonmen in the attack tomorrow. He was not the man you thought he was, though that does not mean you can’t love him, nor grieve for him.” She held his gaze, her tone soft.
“I know what he was. He told me what he had planned, but he was not doing it for the benefit of the Ribbonmen. He intended to have them all apprehended, so they might be tried and transported,” Jacob whispered. “And I know that he wanted me dead, but I love him all the same, and I will miss him all the same.”
“Of course you will,” she murmured, letting what Jacob had said sink in. The Ribbonmen had been fooled by the very kind of person they sought revenge against. For her part, she could not shed a tear for Lord Owen, but she could understand why Jacob had to. And she did not disapprove of him for it.
Though I am mighty glad you are not dead, Jacob. I do not know what I would have done if I had lost you.She did not say it out loud, for it did not seem like the right moment. So, she simply allowed herself to feel that gratitude in silence, as the lantern sputtered out and left the trio in pitch darkness.
In those stretching shadows, she felt a firm hand take hers and hold it tight, making her heart swell. Though she knew she could never hope to marry Jacob, she found her heart hoping it all the same. And in his touch, she felt her desires echoed back, in loving reciprocation.
Chapter 43
Aweek passed. As the dust settled on the traumatic events that had taken the life of Owen, Ravencliff returned to a state of relative normality. The dairy needed to be tended to, as did the fields and the manor itself. It did not have the luxury of time to let it grieve.
Those within, however, had no choice but to face some harsh truths and try to find a way to proceed in their conflicted sorrow. Which was how Jacob came to find Alicia, seated upon a bench outside the mausoleum in the estate’s private churchyard. His mother had mentioned that he might find her there.
“Mother said you had come to the house, but I could not find you. I wondered where you had gone,” he said, startling her out of a private reverie.
“I needed the fresh air,” she replied. “And I wanted to have a moment with my mother.”
“What does she have to say?” He sat down beside her, keeping a polite distance.
Her head dipped to her chin. “She isn’t saying much.”
“Is it a comfort to you, to be near her?”
She nodded slowly. “Very much so. I’ve missed her, even though I hardly knew her.” She looked up at him. “What of your brother?”
“I have tried not to think about him too much,” Jacob admitted, though it was not entirely the truth. When he had not been thinking of Alicia, and the warmth he felt in his heart for her, he had been thinking of Owen. And the brotherhood they would never share.
“It doesn’t do you any dishonor to think of him, you know,” Alicia said. “He was your brother. Just because he turned out to have some evil in him, that doesn’t mean you have to immediately stop caring for him.”
He shifted awkwardly. “If I allow myself to think of him kindly, and what might have been if he had not sought to destroy me, it will overwhelm me.”
“That does you no dishonor, either.” She cast her eyes downward. “But, if you ever need to speak about him with someone, I don’t mind listening.”
“Thank you,” he breathed, knowing he may need to accept that offer. It reminded him of another offer he needed to relay to her—one of the main reasons he had sought her out, upon hearing that she had come to the manor.
“You may be pleased to know that I have spoken with my mother, and she has agreed that it would best if you and your father were to reside at Raven… at Ballyroyal for the foreseeable future.” His tone softened. “In truth, I would like it if you remained here. These were your lands once, and though I cannot give that back, I must grant you the reparations you are owed.”
“Da might not take too kindly to it, but I’ll speak with him.” She trembled in the cold breeze, though Jacob knew that was not like her. Despite her sometimes sickly demeanor, she had a hardiness about her.
“Are you cold?” He took off his overcoat and put it about her shoulders. She stiffened slightly but did not remove the offered item.
“I must be,” she said quietly.
“There is something else I wanted to talk to you about.” He rallied his courage, for he did not know if it would make a difference. He hoped so, but he could not be certain.
She turned to face him. “Oh?”
“If I tell you, you must keep it secret. No one can know.”
“Go on…” she urged.
He took a hesitant breath. “I am not your cousin.”
