Chapter Five #2
Dorian took the opportunity to slip from the castle and ride Maximus hard and fast, hoping to exhaust them both.
He needed the exertion to clear his head and calm himself before he went to see his sister.
He should not have spoken to her as he had at supper the previous evening, and he needed to make amends.
He’d been filled with both rage and fear when she’d threatened to reveal the truth Amelia had never bothered to request, but that was no excuse.
He told himself he would make things right after his outing.
The castle had been situated perfectly to survey the surrounding lands, which meant it was not difficult for Dorian to ride without losing sight of it.
While he’d ridden out with Amelia the day before, he was far from familiar with the lay of the land; he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said it was entirely possible that he might become lost. The land was wild and beautiful; sometimes green and lush, rocky and rugged in other places.
The more he explored, the more he understood how someone might fall in love with Scotland.
By the time he returned to the castle, sweaty and pleasantly winded, he was pleased to note the hour had arrived when Clara should have risen for the day.
A quick survey of the more public rooms indicated there was no sign of the lady of the house or her canine shadow.
Dorian did not know if he was disappointed or relieved that he would not have to face Amelia just yet, but it certainly made things simpler when he had to deal with the ire of one female at a time.
Returning to his chamber, he cleaned himself up and changed from his riding clothes into a deep red coat, honey gold waistcoat, and buff breeches before making his way to Clara’s chamber. He knocked with two sharp raps of his knuckle.
“Enter,” came Clara’s quietly cheerful voice.
Dorian stepped into the room to find Clara lounging on a chaise in a pale pink morning dress, and he smiled in greeting to his sister.
However, he hadn’t expected to find Amelia in a similar position across from her.
She reclined among a swath of sky-blue embroidered fabric, her fingers holding her place in a tiny leather-bound tome in her lap.
Faye rose to her feet at full attention upon his entrance, one corner of her mouth twisted in a silent growl.
She clearly hadn’t forgotten how he’d separated her from Amelia the night before; the quick flicker in Amelia’s eyes told him she hadn’t either.
Amelia uttered a small sound, and the well-trained beast immediately sat, though her wary eyes made Dorian be sure to keep his distance. He met Amelia’s gaze, certain she could feel the same heat that instantly suffused him in her presence and held it until she looked away.
“I was hoping to speak with my sister,” he said to the room. His tone was neither rude nor demanding, but it conveyed authority, nonetheless.
Clara, ever her defiant self, said, “You may say whatever you need to in front of Amelia. She and I have no secrets.” She settled into her seat more fully.
Dorian tensed, briefly cursing his strong-willed sibling. The trait would serve her well as a wife—woe be to her unfortunate future husband—but now it served only to grate upon his nerves. She knew precisely what he wanted to discuss, and she was trying to make him do it in front of Amelia.
“I will step out,” Amelia suddenly offered, seeming to recognize the tension in Dorian’s body.
“No, you may stay!” Clara said, trying to convince her.
“It is alright. I will see you at luncheon.” Amelia smiled at Clara and carried her little book away with her. Faye rushed to come between Amelia and Dorian, hesitating slightly before following her mistress from the room. The door closed behind them.
Clara refused to look at him.
Silently, Dorian strode across the room and looked out the window, her expansive, wild views similar to those from his chambers. “Are you going to stay silent?”
Several heartbeats passed before Clara said, “If you are going to treat me as if I am a child, then perhaps I shall behave as one.”
Dorian turned on her. “And last night’s behavior does not signify?”
Clara glared at him and set aside the plate from which she’d been eating more shortbread. She sat up and placed her feet on the ground as if needing the stability for her next statement. “You must tell her the truth, Dorian. Tell her before one of you kills the other.”
“You are being dramatic. Besides, this is none of your concern, Clara,” he growled, trying to keep his temper in check. He reminded himself that he’d come here to make amends, not further inflame the argument.
“It is, though,” she said, adamant and serious.
He met her earnest gaze. “I love you. I love both of you. I know how each of you was so hurt after what happened, but I was hurt, too. I was just a girl, torn between a brother whom she loved and a woman she’d come to see as a sister.
” Dorian was stunned silent by the sudden maturity of her tone.
“It was all a misunderstanding,” she added gently.
“Do you not think things would be better if you only told Amelia how you did not—”
“It is in the past, Clara,” he cut her off.
“But don’t you see? It is not,” she said passionately. “If the last few days have shown me anything, it is that the past is alive and well. And it has been left to fester. Do not allow it to overshadow what I know remains between you two.”
Dorian stared at her serious face, her pleading eyes. “When did you grow up?” he asked fondly, making her face split into an unwilling smile.
“That tends to happen. But don’t change the subject. Why won’t you tell her what happened?”
Dorian sighed heavily, weighing his next words.
He supposed if Clara had matured so much, then he should speak to her as such.
“Amelia never asked after my side of the incident, did you know that? She assumed the worst, and she believed the word of gossipers who made the situation out to be much more than it was.” He paused.
“I’ll not forfeit the truth when she has always believed my side to be so unimportant. ”
The sympathy in Clara’s eyes made him turn back to the window. He wasn’t used to being the recipient of such a look from her.
There was a rustle of skirts as Clara rose and came to his side, slipping her arm through his and resting her head on his upper arm.
“Oh, Dori…you’re so insufferably stubborn.” He scoffed in reply. “But, if you do not wish for me to bring up the truth, then I will not. I may not agree with it, but I suppose I must respect your wishes.”
He reached up and patted her hand. “Thank you.” He paused. “I should not have spoken to you like I did last night; for that, I am sorry.”
She chuckled lightly. “You can make it up to me with a shopping excursion when we return to London.”