Page 72 of Love in the Wild

Thorne drew in a series of short breaths and finally nodded. Cameron ordered the men holding Thorne to release him. Once Thorne was free, he rubbed his arms.

“You let him go,” Thorne growled.

Cameron sighed heavily. “Lofty, be a good man and take everyone here for drinks in the library. I need to speak with my nephew alone.”

Lofty marshaled the guests out of the room. “Everyone kindly follow me, thank you, very much. The family needs some time alone.” A few of the guests declared they wanted to stay. “Well you can sod off. Out, now, if you please!” He announced cheekily to the crowd who all shot him exasperated looks as they filed out of the front door.

The moment they were alone, Thorne expected Cameron to berate him for his impulsive behavior. But instead, Cameron put a hand on his shoulder and with an emotion-roughened voice, speaking low, he said, “You know that man, don’t you?”

Thorne’s pulse began to pound harder. “Yes.” He could see those awful memories again, too vivid, too full of pain and fear.

“The only reason I could imagine you’d lash out like that is if he ...” Cameron couldn’t finish the sentence, and instead said, “Are you sure?”

“He said that to my mother before he killed her. Same words. Same voice. He killed them.” And as Thorne was able to think more clearly, something else occurred to him. “How is he here? Why?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed as he drew in a forceful breath. “That man is Archibald Holt. His company has interests all over the world, but he spends most of his time in Africa. I’ve met him only a few times. He expressed interest in coming to this party because of his corporate interests in Uganda. He could have been a powerful ally, but I never imagined ...” Again his voice trailed off. “But perhaps I should have. He’s never been a kind man, and Isabelle always said he makes her nervous.”

“Females have a stronger sense of danger,” Thorne noted. “They are always the most alert. She must have sensed he was a predator.”

Cameron was silent a moment before he spoke again. “You attacked him like an animal.”

Thorne inhaled sharply as pangs of shame started to fill his belly. His uncle was ashamed of him—possibly even feared him.

“Just when I believe I understand what you’ve been through, I see this and it reminds me of all that you survived. You must have ...” He struggled for words. “All those nights alone in the crushing dark forest, the dangers you faced. The pain, the scars, the fear ...”

Thorne realized his uncle wasn’t speaking out of shame. He understood.

Cameron met Thorne’s gaze. “I wish I had found you, Thorne. I wish none of this had ever happened. You suffered so much because I couldn’t find you. Because I gave up.” The heartbreak in Cameron’s voice hurt worse than any wound he’d received in the wilds of Uganda.

“No. Do not be sad, Uncle Cameron. Life is pain, life is scars, life is fear.” Those were the laws of the jungle, but they weren’t the only ones. “Life is also love, family, joy, and bravery.” He put his hand on his uncle’s shoulder in a mirroring gesture. “You cannot live in the past. I had a full life in the forest. The forest brought me to Eden, and she brought me home to you.”

Cameron’s smile quivered. “You know a good British gentleman never cries.”

“Then do not be that. Be yourself,” Thorne said simply.

“That’s your mother speaking, you know. She was unflinching in her devotion to Jacob, but she never let being a countess change who she was. I’ve heard people speak of children being living tributes to their parents, but I’ve never truly understood that until now.” Cameron pulled Thorne in for a hard hug, then let him go. “Why don’t we find Lofty? It’s wise to keep an eye on that man—he can drink a man out of his best brandy.”

Cameron and Thorne left the ballroom together. “We’ll discuss with Eden and Isabelle later what to do about Holt. If he is indeed our man, it’s time to start unearthing evidence against him.”

Thorne’s hands curled into fists. Then there would be a time for justice.

* * *

Eden leftThorne and his uncle to speak privately. She and Isabelle, along with the amusing and outspoken Lord Lofthouse, escorted those who wished to leave to the front door, after which Lofty headed off to the library to refill his brandy.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Isabelle said after dealing with those who’d wanted to leave right away.

“What about Lord Lofthouse?” asked Eden.

“Oh, Lofty’s a dear friend. I’m sure he’ll want to stick around and make sure we’re all right before he goes. I’m more worried about Thorne. What on earth do you think came over him?”

“I have no idea,” said Eden. “I’ve never seen him like that, not even when we were attacked by a lion.”

“But what about the poachers?”

Eden hadn’t truly seen his expression when he had rescued her from them, but yes, that was the only time she could remember seeing anger on his face. Perhaps someone had triggered a memory of his past?

Only then did Eden realize that someone had splashed red wine over the stunning blue dress she was wearing. It must have happened during the chaos of the fight in the ballroom.

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