Page 91 of Married to the Icy Duke
Matthew did not immediately respond. His attention was fixed entirely on Tommy. One leg was propped up on the windowsill, the other placed firmly on the ground. Tommy sat cross-legged between and glanced up to smile at his uncle.
One tip to the side, and both Matthew and Tommy will topple out of the window. Nobody could survive that fall.
“Becoming, eh?” Matthew murmured. “I’ve heard that word a great deal. It’s not becoming for a viscount to cry, for example, not even at his brother’s funeral. He must be stoic. He mustforgive. He must move on as if nothing had ever happened. What if I can’t, Isaac? What if I can’t let go?”
Isaac swallowed thickly. Sensing that Charlotte was trying to creep forward, he threw her a quick, warning glance. For once, she seemed to understand him and obeyed, pressing herself silently back against the wall.
He inched forward, holding out his hands. He suspected that Matthew would not let him get too near.
If I can convince Tommy to come to me, we might have a chance. But how am I to do that without terrifying him? Without warning Matthew? Who knows what he’ll do if he senses that the game is up?
“What does Tommy have to do with any of this, Matthew?” Isaac asked, his voice quiet.
Matthew bit his lower lip, staring down at the boy. Tommy placed the handful of buttons on the cold stone of the windowsill, arranging them in a line.
“You owe me a brother,” Matthew whispered. “How can a man like you raise a child? He’s only your nephew.”
“I promised my brother I would raise him like a son.”
“Yes, but you don’t keep your promises, do you, Isaac?”
Isaac flinched at that. “This isn’t fair.”
“It’s the plain truth.”
“In my mind, Tommy is already my son.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that in your mind, you and Jasper were already home safe.” Matthew hissed, his voice catching. “My brother is dead, Isaac. He’s dead, and my world died with him. Why should I not take your nephew from you? It’s only fair, isn’t it?”
What do you mean, take him?Isaac wanted to scream.
He did not allow himself to scream. Instead, he lifted his hands gingerly to the ribbons of his domino. Silently, he undid the knot and let the mask fall limply to the floor.
Matthew glanced up, his eyes widening at the ruin of Isaac’s face. Tommy looked up too.
Isaac felt sick. He had tried so hard to keep his face hidden, especially from Tommy. Charlotte had caught a glimpse, but now she would see him, see him plainly.
Perhaps I have hidden for long enough.
Tommy blinked up at Isaac, mildly surprised. Matthew cleared his throat.
“Heavens. That’s worse than I thought.”
“Gunpowder,” Isaac said, forcing out the single word with an effort. “Barrels of gunpowder in a cart. A group of soldiers were assigned to guard it. Jasper and I were among them. We … We never suspected that there was danger. That’s when it strikes,isn’t it? Jasper and I were due to return home for leave the next day. There was … There was an ambush. We weren’t ready.” Isaac swallowed thickly, closing his eyes. “Jasper and I had our wits about us. We fought. I received an injury to my side, but I kept standing. Jasper cut down several men to save my life. Then an enemy soldier caught a lucky shot. He struck the gunpowder.”
Isaac bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper. He could still smell it, the scent of carnage and gunpowder in the air. He couldn’t recall hearing the blow, and he had lived in silence for days afterwards, his eardrums shattered from the pressure of the explosion.
“Eight men were killed straight off,” he continued at last, when only silence greeted him. “Twelve died in the days that followed, since debris and razor-sharp wood splinters shot everywhere. I knew one man who had a stone shot straight through his head, so sharp and clean it might have been fired from a gun. He died instantly, of course. I was not quite so lucky, although they thought that I would die, too,” he gestured to the ruin of his face. “Perhaps now that you know that my eye was destroyed by a shower of wood splinters and gunpowder, you can understand just how lucky I was. I recall waking up, half-drowned in bloody mud. I crawled the length of that wretched field, Matthew, looking for him. Looking for Jasper. He lay about ten feet from the ruined cart. A splinter of wood as long as my arm had cut out his throat. He would have died instantly. Aside from that …”
Isaac swallowed hard, smiling faintly. “Aside from that, there was barely a scratch on him. The medics found me there, beside him. They said I had tried to revive him, which, of course, was a waste of time. That was how he died, Matthew. That was how ithappened. The very last thought on his mind, however, was you. His brother.”
Matthew’s throat worked. “Me?”
“He was writing a letter to you. It was ruined, soaked in blood. I never found it. But we were talking about it before the ambush came. Jasper could not wait to see you again. Nor could I, as a matter of fact.”
Silence followed.
“I know you blame me for his death,” Isaac continued, his voice trembling, “but I knew your brother like I knew myself. And I knowyou, Matthew. You are not the sort of man to dangle a child out of a window.”
