Chapter Twenty-Two #3
Blayth found himself staring at her, hard.
As she said that, he realized there was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite place her.
It was mostly in her eyes – he knew those eyes, now filled with an ocean of tears.
Clearly, seeing him had her shaken and he had no idea why.
But when she asked that question, he, too, realized that she had the same expression that Payton-Forrester had when he’d first looked at him.
It was the light of recognition.
He sighed sharply.
“I… I don’t know,” he said. “But I know I should. Do you know me?”
Penelope blinked and the tears splattered. She suddenly didn’t care what Chris or Corbett or even Bhrodi had said. This was her James, the brother she thought she’d lost, and she could hardly believe it. Every fiber in her body screamed with disbelief, while her heart began to leap with joy.
It was him!
“Aye,” she finally said, breaking down into tears. “I do. I know you.”
Asmara rushed to her side, seeing how overwrought she was. “You do?” she asked in disbelief. “Who is he to you? Please tell me. Do not be afraid.”
Penelope was beginning to sob. Her hands were over her mouth as she took a few halting steps in Blayth’s direction, her eyes drinking in a sight she never thought she’d see again in this life. She couldn’t even answer Asmara’s question as her teary gaze held her brother.
“You were dead,” she sobbed. “We were told you were dead. But you are not! You are alive!”
Asmara was following her, genuinely trying to find answers from the woman. “Who is he to you?” she begged. “Please tell me.”
Penelope heard the question and she swallowed, wiping the tears that were coursing down her cheeks. “My brother,” she whispered. Then, she looked at Blayth, who was looking at her in astonishment. “Don’t you know me? I’m Penelope. I am your sister. James, we thought you were dead!”
She was off sobbing again, hands over her mouth to stifle the noise. Asmara looked to Blayth in shock.
“James,” she said to him. “She called you James.”
Blayth was nearly as stunned as Penelope was, only marginally better at keeping his emotions in check.
But it was a hard-fought battle. Everything he’d come to Lioncross to discover had happened right here, right now, in the most unexpected of places.
It had happened so swiftly that he could hardly believe it.
Reaching out, he grasped Penelope by both arms, his expression beseeching.
“I am sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I do not remember you. I do not remember anything. I was badly injured at Llandeilo and lay unconscious for weeks. When I awoke, I had no memory of who I was, so I do not remember you. I wish I did. God, I wish I did. Am I truly your brother?”
Penelope nodded. Then, she threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off-balance as she sobbed her heart out.
“James,” she wept. “I have missed you so terribly. We have all missed you so terribly. I never thought to see you ever again!”
Blayth didn’t know what to say or what to do.
He kept from putting his arms around her because she was essentially a stranger, and he was quite uncomfortable with her display of emotion.
But when he looked at Asmara, he could see the tears in the woman’s eyes.
Tears of joy, he thought. But he, too, was beginning to feel tears.
He felt as if a large piece of a larger puzzle had just come to light.
She knew him.
You are my brother!
“Please,” he begged her, trying to pull her away from him. “Please tell me; are you certain I am your brother?”
Penelope nodded, struggling with her hysterics, but she genuinely couldn’t help it. “Aye, of course,” she said, releasing her death grip on him. “I came here to find you and I did!”
Blayth was beside himself with the situation, trying to think of what to ask her. There was so much he wanted to ask. But he could only think of one thing at a time. He couldn’t speak as quickly as his mind worked, so it was a struggle to get the words out.
Asmara could see that. His face was turning red, overwhelmed with the situation. So she went to stand beside him, her hand on Penelope’s arm because the woman was still so upset.
“You called him James,” she said. “Can you please tell us your family name?”
Penelope wiped furiously at her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “De Wolfe,” she said. “My father is William de Wolfe, the Earl of Warenton. In his youth, he was called the Wolfe of the Border. There is no greater knight in all of England than my father. Our father.”
Asmara looked at Blayth to see how he was taking the news; his eyes were wide, staring at Penelope as if she alone contained all of the answers he’d ever wanted to know.
The key to his past was standing right in front of him and he was so stunned that he couldn’t even speak.
She could see his mouth moving, but nothing was coming forth.
Now, at this moment, his limited power of speech had failed him.
“My husband knows nothing of his past,” she told Penelope.
“As you can see, he is having a difficult time speaking. He was badly wounded at Llandeilo, smashed in the head, and there have been some things that have been slow to recover. His ability to speak has been one of them, but the only memories he has are of those since Llandeilo. His only memory is as a man of Wales. That is all he has known these past five years.”
Penelope listened carefully to what she was being told and it was starting to occur to her what had happened.
The explanation was perfectly clear. James’ memory had been erased from the terrible wound to his head, the evidence of which was right before her.
The left side of his head was in ruins. Without the ability to tell anyone who he was or return home, he’d simply remained in Wales because it was all he knew.
It was all he could do.
Dear God… so many things became clear in that brief explanation and she looked to her brother, feeling more disbelief and sympathy than she ever thought possible. Reaching out, she took one of his big, callused hands.
“You are my brother, James de Wolfe,” she said, her voice tight with emotion.
“You are the fourth son of William de Wolfe and his wife, Jordan. You have three older brothers – Scott, Troy, and Patrick. You have a twin sister, Katheryn. You also have another sister, Evelyn, and two younger brothers, Thomas and Edward. And then there is me, the baby of the family. You used to bring me sweets when I was a child and I would call you my favorite brother. Then, Patrick would bring me sweets and I would call him my favorite brother. You would challenge Patrick to a duel for the title of Supreme Favorite Brother, and I would demand a long and drawn-out death from the loser. You don’t remember any of this? ”
Blayth was listening to her, his eyes filling with tears. He simply couldn’t help it. He had so many brothers and sisters, and he didn’t even remember them. It was tragic beyond words.
“I wish I did,” he whispered. “I wish I remembered it all.”
Penelope could see that, and it was a struggle for her not to burst into tears again. Reaching up, she put her hand on his damaged face, tears spilling down her cheeks when she saw the tears coming from his eyes. The man wanted so badly to remember what she was telling him.
“We had such wonderful times as a family,” she said haltingly.
“We were very much loved by our parents, and we loved each other. Above all, know that you were happy and that you were loved. When Papa returned to tell us that you’d been killed at Llandeilo, it was a great loss for us all.
Papa has never recovered from it, James, not ever.
He never got over the guilt of having to leave you behind. ”
Blayth’s lower lip was trembling. “I was told that the English left me behind,” he murmured. “I was told that I was unwanted.”
Penelope was shaking her head before he even finished.
“That is not true,” she said. “I was told that Llandeilo was chaos. The English were outmanned and ambushed, and they had to leave their dead behind in the retreat. Believe me; if Papa could have taken you with him, he would have. He told me that Uncle Kieran tried to carry you out, but that he had to leave you, too, or risk being killed. They tried to bring you, James, but it simply wasn’t possible.
Please don’t think you were left behind because you were unwanted.
Papa even went back to find you, once, but no one could tell him what had become of you. ”
Blayth closed his eyes, the tears falling as he turned away from her.
Asmara went to him, putting her arms around him as Penelope stood there and watched the pair.
Her hysteria had eased, but her tears hadn’t.
She was still weeping silently, watching her brother as he was comforted by a woman who called herself his wife.
As she stood there, wiping the constant flow of tears from her face, she heard a voice behind her.
“Penny?” It was Bhrodi. “What is happening here?”
She turned around to see her husband standing behind her, looking quite confused and concerned. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around him as the sobs came again. She wept against him as he held her, but he didn’t hold her for long. His concern had the better of him.
“Penny, what is the matter?” he demanded. “Why are you crying? And who are they?”
He was indicating Blayth and Asmara, and Penelope labored to stop weeping so she could explain.
“It’s him,” she whispered tightly. “It is my brother, James. He… he is here. I do not know how he is here, but he is. It is him!”
Bhrodi’s eyes widened. “What?” he hissed. “Are you serious?”