Page 14 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
He didn’t like to think about everything that she had been through or the marriage that he had been forced into with her. He didn’t like to think about all that they had both given up in order to undo the scandal that she and Romeo’s hasty actions had forced them into.
Unbidden, an image of Imelda from a few days before flashed through his mind, his heart clenching as his fists tightened even further.
And then, an image of her slamming her front door in his face all of those years ago.
“Dammit, Romeo!” Corin seethed, his breath leaving him in one large huff.
Romeo had stared at Corin; his eyes widened slightly as he took in Corin’s irregular display of emotion.
“I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand,” Romeo whispered, with real regret in his words.
And just as quickly as Corin’s rage had come, it deflated.
He knew that his brother hadn’t.
That was always the problem. Romeo nevermeantanything negative. He never meant for things to go badly. He never meant for his actions to harm anyone else. He just didn’t think.
“She died of consumption, Romeo.” A fact that none of them could have known before the very end. It took her so quickly. “Her whole family, or at least her mother and father, know what led to that. They know why we rushed to marry. They helped orchestrate the entire thing. Do you not think that only a year and a half later, seeing your face here might stir some otherwise better left-buried feelings?” Corin spoke more gently then, though his tone was still tense.
Romeo nodded, his eyes dropping as he did.
“Go out the back.” Corin sighed, stepping back and running his hand down the front of his face in aggravation. “I doubt I’ll be wanted here any longer anyway. I’ll collect our aunt and cousin. You should get back to yourwife.”
Especially after the trouble Corin had gone through to speak to her on Romeo’s behalf as he had asked.
Again, Romeo nodded mutely.
Corin had waited only long enough to see Romeo striding off in the opposite direction, ducking down another hallway to do as he had been asked.
God dammit. He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.
His friendship with Alice had been the only saving grace in the midst of their bound tragedy of pain and duty. Coming to her memorial, mourning with her family, only made him feel sordid and dirty in the face of the truth.
Who, if not he?
Hadn’t that been what he had asked Charlotte the other night?
Who, if not he, to clean up the messes that Romeo left behind?
He had ducked back into the memorial silently, shooting his aunt a look as she finished up whatever conversation she was having with the Summers.
He hadn’t bothered trying to ingratiate himself back into any kind of conversation. He’d been seen arriving, he’d been seen talking to Alice’s mother. That was all that was technically required of him.
The rest was unnecessary.
So much so that he chose to wait near the doors for his aunt and cousin, ducking back out of them and heading back to the carriage that they had only just recently vacated at the very first chance to do so.
The conversation between the two of them in the carriage on the way to drop them back off at their home was something that he’d mostly tuned out of, his eyes on the passing scenery as he tried to ignore the strange confluence of emotions that had taken up residence within him.
He hadn’t wanted to go in the first place, dammit.
“—Imelda Merrit—” caught his attention mid-ride, the peaks of his aunt’s estate only just beginning to show in the distance as her name jarred Corin back into the present conversation.
His eyes moved from the windows over to where his aunt and cousin were both staring at him expectantly, their eyebrows raised in twin expressions of interest.
“Sorry?”
Corin didn’t bother to pretend that he had been paying any attention to either of them, his own expression a study of indifference. Imelda’s demand from the previous night was a blaring, angry reminder in the back of his head. She clearly didn’t want anyone knowing of their association and, try as he might, he couldn’t really blame her for such a thing.
