Chapter 19

“You don’t know him.” His tone was sullen, but the expression in his eyes was wary.

“Tell me about him, then.”

“I’ve always felt…” He bit his lip and glanced away, uncertainty in every line of his body.

“Go on,” I encouraged.

“He hates me.”

“What?” I straightened, all trace of amusement gone.

“Well, perhaps that iscoming a bit too strong,” he conceded, “but I doubt he has any real affection for me. My mother died giving birth to me, you see. Father didn’t know until after it was all over. I overheard him once—I don’t recall to whom he was speaking, but he said if they’d had the common decency to ask him, he would have told them to save her at all costs.”

“Well, but—”

“At all costs, James. D’you think I didn’t know what he meant by that? Every time he looks at me, he’s reminded that if it wasn’t for me, she would still be alive.”

“He doesn’t know that for certain.”

“He’s as certain as he needs to be.” My lover looked desolate.