Page 54 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
Perhaps she misheard—
“Luna,” he cries out again. And it is a cry—desperate, pained.
She thinks about waking him. He came to her when she was plagued by nightmares. But then, would she have to admit she overheard him. She could be honest. He might be embarrassed.
Does she really want to know who he’s calling for?
Does she want to leave him in pain?
Selene hesitates long enough that the distress pinching his features lessens. He stops murmuring, his breathing evening out. Content that he’s no longer trapped in a nightmare, Selene steps away.
She takes the name with her.
Dorian doesn’t come down for breakfast the next morning. This isn’t unusual, but what is unusual is that he isn’t scribbling away in his study or out on business. Selene doesn’t want to pry or draw attention to his injuries if he doesn’t want it, but she is concerned.
“Is Dorian all right, do you think?” she asks Ariella as she clears away the breakfast.
“Exhausted, poor thing,” she says. “I did pop my head around the door just to check he was still alive. He never rests. I’ve no plans to wake him.”
Selene hasn’t any either, yet, despite Ariella’s assurances, she finds herself peeking into his room on the way back to her own. He’ssleeping soundly still.
She hears when he rises. He scrambles out of bed, murmuring about “How bloody late it is” and yelling about why no one saw fit to wake him. He bangs about the bathroom and storms out the corridor to his study.
He gives everyone a wide berth for the rest of the day, but eventually ventures out at dinner time. He still looks tired. No one else mentions this. They’re clearly used to the dark shadows under his eyes.
Selene passes him the potatoes. “What is it that you do in your office all day?” she asks, as politely as she can. It’s better than asking about Luna and who she might be. She knows Dorian takes the running of his estate very seriously, but she can’t imagine that it takes this much work. The Duke never—
The Duke had secretaries and stewards,she reminds herself.He never did everything by himself.
Dorian doesn’t answer immediately. “A lot of book balancing,” he admits. “Supply routes. Town planning. Forward planning—trying to anticipate things thatmighthappen. Future deaths, births, natural disasters. How to accommodate and prepare.”
Not for the first time, Selene desperately wishes she’d paid more attention to the things happening outside her bubble in the last year of her life. She’d be much more helpful that way.
“Can I help at all?” she asks anyway, genuinely meaning it.
Dorian blinks. “What you’re already doing here at the house is more than enough.”
Selene doubts that’s true. What she’s doing here at the house is entirely for her benefit. There’s no altruism there, whereas Dorian looks like he’s killing himself keeping the village alive.
It can’t be healthy, all he’s doing.
He heads back to his study after dinner. Selene assists Ariella and Rookwood with cleaning up. Soren is runningan errand elsewhere. Selene is not very good at cleaning—Ariella still fusses when she tries—but she is, at least, capable of carrying plates. Tonight, she’s permitted to dry dishes. She quite likes the routine of this, and the soft chatter of Rookwood and Ariella in the background.
“That chutney you picked up earlier went down a treat,” Rookwood says, scrubbing a pan in the sink.
Ariella doesn’t look up from her sewing. “I’ll let Mrs Jones know when I next see her.”
Selene keeps scrubbing, chewing her lip.
“Are you all right, Selene?” Rookwood asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Does anyone ever worry about Dorian?” she says.
A short, hard pause breezes through the room. Ariella and Rookwood exchange glances.
“Of course we do,” says Ariella eventually. “He has the weight of the world on his shoulders, that boy. He’s always been like that, of course. Got worse after his father’s death, and then after…” She shakes the thought away. “He thinks he has to do everything himself. Soren helps where he can, of course, and we try… but he’s not very good at accepting help. So we just make sure he’s eating, and do whatwecan.”
Selene nods. She wants to help. She wants todosomething. If she knew anything about this part of the world from her future, she would.
