Page 121 of Enemies with an Earl
“Patience, Lissy,” Ash murmured. But he was leaning forward eagerly, too.
“I don’t understand why my brother would leave me a journal,” Sam said, thumbing slowly through the pages. “Why would someone who stood there, condemning me to death, leave me something so personal? And something he so plainly kept secret.”
The journal was filled with entries spanning at least a decade. Sam fanned the pages, and the journal fell open to where a note had been tucked between them. A letter. One addressed to Sam. At Devonford Castle.
He swallowed hard. Ash had mentioned Edmund had known where Sam was for quite some time. He unfolded the letter with shaky fingers and began to read.
Sampson,
I’ve written this letter a thousand times over the past twenty years, and not once did I find the spine to send it. Words will always be a paltry offering for what our family did to you. I never agreed with Mother and Father’s decision. I never shared their beliefs, but I stood quietly by while you were sentenced. A coward, who would let his own brother be condemned, lose his life, rather than defy his parents.
You have no idea the elation I felt when I found out you had somehow escaped. I’d discreetly looked for you. I just needed to know you were alive and well. And then I found you.
I had been building up the courage to visit Devonford, to ask about you. If anyone knew of your whereabouts, I knew it would be him. But I was terrified of what my reception would be, given your friendship. That’s when I saw you.
You and Devonford had entered the village tavern where I’d sat, trying to gather my nerve with liquid courage. You looked nothing like the boy you were when I last saw you—a lanky lad of eighteen, shaking, screaming after us as you were taken away by the constables. That vision, your cries, have haunted me ever since. A nightmare I deserve to relive. But there you were: older, larger, broader—so much like Grandfather. You smiled, laughed. You looked happy, safe.
I will forever be in debt to Devonford. I have no doubt he was the one who saved you.
Over the years, I’ve kept my distance, occasionally making it as far as returning to the village nearby, hoping for a glimpse of you, just to ensure you were still well. Like I said, I was—am—a coward. I feared your anger, your hurt. I feared Father’s reaction if he were to find out. They were happy to pretend you ceased to exist after you escaped. I didn’t want to do anything to risk that changing.
I never expected to inherit. But perhaps fate saw fit to give our family what it deserved. The carriage accident that took Father and Mother… Alfred’s fall from his horse… None of it was swift, slowly paying back their penance in pain. And I can’t pretend to mourn them. I hope they suffered for everything they did to you.
My own reckoning is surely coming. For even if it was never a fate I wanted for you, I was complicit. I did nothing. That is betrayal enough. So I deserve whatever punishment the fates see fit to deliver.
All I can offer you is this apology, and what I was able to achieve once I inherited. The first use of my newfound authority as Earl was to seek a royal pardon on your behalf. Enclosed in the back flap of this journal is the certified warrant bearing the Great Seal, confirming that pardon.
Now, if you are reading this, I am most likely no longer walking this earth. Let us be honest, I’m unlikely to ever summon the courage to send it. I will forever regret my silence, my weakness, and my failure to protect you, my little brother.
I’m so sorry, Sammie. I will carry this guilt to my grave and beyond. Because the only sinners in this tale were us: your family, executioners of our own kin.
As one final note: I dismissed many of the staff when I ascended to Earl. I sought to rid the estate of those who shared the beliefs of our parents and elder brother. I am sure some still remain who cannot be trusted, but Mr. Holmes is an ally you can rely on. He is loyal, and he knows the full truth.
With love, regret, and what little atonement I can offer,
Edmund
The letter trembled in his grip, and Sam shook his head in disbelief, lips moving soundlessly. A storm was brewing in his chest, a gale of anguish and rage, of resentment and relief. It was like his body, his mind, didn’t know how to feel. His brother—one bloody person in his family—didn’t want him dead, cared for him. It was the saddest joyful realization. He did have kin who loved him. But still would have let him swing. It was like fate was determined to heal his heart, just to shatter it again. How could a person ever allow that to happen to someone they loved? Was there really anything Edmund could have done? Did that absolve his brother of his sins?
He swallowed, clenching his jaw to hold back the emotion climbing its way up his throat, and passed the note over to Ash. Felicity quickly sank onto his lap, and they read the note together. Their eyes flitted back and forth, brows furrowing, and Sam saw his own reaction play out on their faces. Felicity gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Ash’s eyes went wide, and his gaze shot to Sam’s.
“Christ, Sam,” Ash said hoarsely. “Your brother— He had you pardoned. You’re safe.”
Something lit in Sam’s gut at Ash saying that fact out loud, a realization that was warm and light and so bloody hopeful. It drowned out the conflicting emotions the letter had spurred. “I can stay here at Trenton Abbey,” he said, realization reeling through his mind. “I can live a quiet life here. I’ll take a page out of your book, Ash, and become a broody recluse.”
Ash chuckled. “You’re always welcome to visit Devonford Castle, of course. Even if we have guests. I don’t give a bloody damn what society will say or think.”
Sam returned his friend’s grin and then it froze on his face. Felicity was pointedly avoiding Sam’s gaze, picking at Ash’s waistcoat.
“Felicity…?”
She glanced up, amber eyes the exact shade as Felix’s staring back at him. Eyes he hoped to hell he’d be seeing again soon. “I am completely aligned with Ash, Sam. You are always welcome…”
But…
“My brother could never risk coming here, seeing you,” Felicity added quietly. “Not as an unmarried gentleman.”
All that bubbly warmth turned ice cold. Of course, it wasn’t this simple. He was the biggest fool to have even dared believe it could be.
