There is hope. I feared that Ezekiel’s impulsiveness would be the end of any trust Damien ever had for me.
She only hoped that she was not imagining good will where there was none. It was frustrating enough that their relationship had ceased to blossom with Ezekiel’s arrival, but it would be infinitely worse if their closeness ceased to be entirely.
“I can do little else. By his own admission, he has no money left. I would not leave him on the streets,” Damien said.
“And you believe him?”
“I am surprised that you ask. You seem to be keen for me to believe him.”
“I am. I think he really is your brother,” Maria said.
“It was the stain on his skin that convinced me. On the left side of his body.”
Maria reached out, letting her hand trail down Damien’s arm to his hand. His breath hitched.
“And no curse,” she said deliberately.
Damien took a deep breath, touching his bare face. Maria stopped, taking his hand in hers and placing a kiss on his scarlet cheek.
“See? No harm has come to me, nor will it. No harm has come to anyone who has seen Ezekiel’s chest, either.”
“Our mother saw it, and she was taken by fever.”
“So were a lot of people that year. Including many who did not know what Ezekiel looked like under his clothes,” Mariainsisted. “There is no curse, my dear husband, save for the one that you have cast on yourself.”
Damien enfolded Maria in his arms, holding her tightly.
“When you confessed that you had been speaking to him behind my back, I felt like… I was losing you. It was only when you almost fell out of the tree that I was shocked back to my senses. Or perhaps out of them. I do not know if I am operating on sense and reason or emotion.”
“Emotion. Compassion. Something of which your mother possessed in abundance,” Maria said.
She clung to Damien, enjoying this interlude before they took their separate corridors.
Or perhaps tonight we will not.
The evening spent in the oak tree was fresh in her mind, but already taking on the otherworldly quality of a dream. It was simply too magical to be real. But real it had been. She smiled up at Damien, who gazed down with a serious expression.
Will there ever be a time when his expression is not serious? Perhaps I can fix that. Make this house a happy home and make Damien’s natural expression one of laughter.
“I wish I had certainty about him. There is a part of me that says he cannot be who he says he is. That this is all a subterfuge.”
“The suspicious part of you. The part that wants to be alone in this rambling old house. Because being alone is easier than trusting,” Maria said.
“All very astute.”
He took her hand and walked on. She savored the feel of his broad, strong hand and the grip that would not release her unless he chose it. It made Maria feel safe and protected.
“How is Gilbert?” Damien asked.
“Well. Recovered from the fever. Asking when he will be allowed to come and live here.”
“Is that a question?”
“Yes,” Maria answered directly.
Damien looked at her. “Let me get to grips with our houseguest first. Then you may bring him and… I will be present.”
Maria smiled and saw the corners of Damien’s mouth twitch.