Page 78 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
Henry leaned down and slipped one arm beneath his brother’s knees, the other under his shoulders, then gripped his stiff body and lifted his weight, to hold him against his chest.
He was taking on his father’s task. But he was glad his father had not had to do this.
‘When will you grow out of this reckless stage? When will you care what others think and feel?’ Those were the words his father had yelled at him. The answer was – now. He had known love for a woman and let her go and thought he had changed then. But now – now he held his dead brother in his arms. Now he knew he had changed.
If William had not looked up to Henry’s reckless ways, perhaps he would not have tried to climb up to his master’s room.
If Henry had paid more attention to his younger brothers, certainly he would not need to feel this intense weight of guilt. Perhaps, if he had behaved differently, he could have prevented this… He would never know now.
He always believed they would be friends when his brothers were older, so he had made little effort to be their friend now. It never occurred to him any of his brothers might not reach maturity.
He wanted William to come back. He would trade anything for it.
William’s body was heavier than Henry had anticipated, but the weight – the burden – was what Henry deserved. He would carry it his whole life. He wished it were him instead of William.
William’s forehead rested against Henry’s cheek as he carried him towards the narrow door of the small room.
‘My lord.’ The school’s master followed Henry as he walked out and began his descent down the narrow staircase. His pace steady, Henry was careful not to catch William’s feet or bump his head. The narrow staircase ended and became the much smarter hallway which led to the grand area of the school.
The hallway and the stairs were wider here but still there was no one else around him bar the one master who followed him. Itwas late and the daylight shining into the hall from a window behind him was fading, but the candles had already been lit; they cast pale shadows about Henry as he walked down the last set of stairs.
Henry had not left William alone for a moment since his parents left. He had a sense William might be afraid, which was stupid. William was beyond feeling afraid. But Henry still did not want to leave him.
When Henry stepped from the last stair into the school’s entrance hall, he expected to see other staff members. Again there was no one. Perhaps the staff were busy keeping the other boys out of the way. Or now his father had gone they felt they had scraped and commiserated enough, and did not need to repeat their bowing to his heir or the dead child. Boys died in this school all the time, diseases spread, accidents happened. Henry lost friends when he attended here. He had still always thought himself invincible, though. That belief had applied to his family too. Never had he thought this might happen to one of them.
‘Reckless.’ He sighed out the word quietly on his breath. The word he was often accused of.Reckless!It barked at him in his head. He had carried the word like a badge of honour. He hated it now. It was a cursed word. It had killed his brother.
The master who had walked downstairs with Henry moved forward to open the front door.
The undertaker waited in the cobbled courtyard in the middle of the school’s ancient buildings illuminated by the eerie light of dusk.
This was sordid. It should not be happening.
The open polished ebony coffin rested on a low cart. From the outside it was worth every penny his father had paid, but inside… it was bare wood because it had been acquired in a hurry. It looked cold. Harsh. Austere.
He was meant to put William within it.
He wished he had let the man wrap a sheet about William, or that he had brought down William’s pillow from the bed, or a blanket.
The tears that had gathered as a lump in his throat for hours became pressure at the back of his eyes. He did not want to leave William in a cold wooden box, in the dark.
But the boy in his arms was not the William who would feel discomfort or terror. That boy no longer existed – Henry had to accept this.
He walked closer to the cart and leaned over to set William down inside the stark box. The weight and angle jarred Henry’s lower back. It was a pain he welcomed; he deserved to feel pain. He should be the one in the coffin.
His gaze did not leave William’s face as he took off his coat rolled it up and tucked it beneath William’s head as a pillow.
He stepped back and two men who Henry had not previously noticed came forward. They moved the lid onto the coffin. Henry’s arms crossed over his chest and he rubbed his arms, but not from the cold.
He sighed, choking on the breath for a moment.
The men began hammering nails into the wood, and the strikes jolted through Henry. What would his family do without William in the world? What would the world be without William?
He sighed out another breath, then bit the inside of his cheek as tears threatened, while the men pulled a canvas over the coffin and secured it across the cart.
‘My lord.’ His father’s groom had come from somewhere too. He lifted a hand, directing Henry to the waiting carriage he was to travel in on the journey home with William. He did not wish to ride in the carriage, he would prefer to sit in the cart andkeep a hand on William’s coffin. He could not walk away from it.
A raindrop fell on Henry’s head. He looked up. The sky had become dark not only from night drawing nearer but due to a dark cloud. Another raindrop fell and hit his shoulder, then the heavens opened. He shut his eyes and let the rain wet his face and his clothing. It helped ease the pain inside him a little.
