A Brother’s Pain
Chapter thirty-one
A Brother’s Pain
Juliet flinched when she heard the distinct sound of a door sliding open drift to her ears. She was all but sitting in Christopher’s lap and did not revel in the idea of a guest happening upon them like this.
Quickly, Juliet scrambled to her feet, her eyes meeting Christopher’s as he, too, pushed off the floor.
Tears still misted his eyes, and Juliet could see the emotional upheaval the previous moment had brought them both plainly upon his face.
Indeed, it seemed he had never thought it possible that happiness could one day be theirs.
Juliet knew what that felt like, for she, too, had all but given up hope, believing herself content—or perhaps simply convincing herself of it!
Now she knew better.
Squeezing Christopher’s hand, Juliet turned toward the door and found none other but her own brother standing there, staring at them.
Although Juliet would have expected Troy to be surprised, perhaps shocked even, the look of fury she saw on his face confused her.
Why would he be this angry? After all, Christopher was his oldest friend.
Long ago, they had been as close as brothers.
“Troy,” came Christopher’s strained voice from behind her, “please, let me explain.”
As Christopher stepped up to her, Juliet looked over her shoulder at his face, surprised to see a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, as though he had fully expected Troy to react in this way.
“What did you do?” Troy growled as he moved into the room, his eyes flashing with anger as his teeth ground together, as though he had to fight for control.
Juliet felt as though her brother did not even see her, his gaze fixed upon Christopher. Anger—outrage even—rolled off him in waves, and belatedly Juliet realized that something had to have happened between them, something she was not aware of.
Christopher swallowed hard, a guilty expression on his face. “Nothing untoward happened, I assure you. We were merely talking and—”
Troy’s lips thinned. “You’ll excuse me,” he spat, “if I do not take your word for it.”
Behind her, Juliet felt Christopher shatter beneath Troy’s hateful words and so she stepped toward her brother, placing her hands upon his rigid arms and looked up into his face.
“Troy,” she whispered, trying to make him see her through his anger as she looked to find the kind and caring brother she had always known.
“Please, do not place blame on Christopher. He speaks the truth. Nothing happened.” Despite the tension in the room, a small smile tugged upon Juliet’s lips.
“Well, perhaps that is not entirely true.” Her smile widened, broadened.
“We are betrothed. We truly are. Will you not give us your blessing?”
Beneath her hands, her brother’s arms tensed, his muscles tightening as though he had just received life-shattering news. His pale blue eyes looked thunderous in the dim light of the room as his gaze fell from Christopher and dropped to look at her face. “You accepted him?”
Confused, Juliet searched Troy’s face. “Of course, I did. I…I love him.” Even though they had never spoken about this, Juliet had always thought that on some level, Troy knew how deeply she cared for his friend.
Had he not seen how Christopher’s departure from all their lives had shattered her?
Somehow, Juliet had always thought that he had.
Troy’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath as he stared at her, as though she had suddenly proclaimed the desire to join their armed forces on the continent.
“You cannot marry him,” he growled then, something untamed and wild flaring in his eyes.
Gone was the calm and collected gentleman Troy had always been.
He no longer spoke with reason and consideration; his words fueled by a rage that made no sense to Juliet.
“What happened between you?” Juliet asked, glancing over her shoulder at Christopher, seeing that guilty expression still on his face. “Why are you so angry?”
A muscle in Troy’s jaw twitched. “He has a child. Did you know that? A son.” The look in his eyes clearly told Juliet that his words were meant to shock her, to convince her to end this betrothal before it had even truly begun.
“I know,” Juliet said quietly, confused by the disappointment that came to her brother’s eyes; disappointment to see her remain at Christopher’s side.
“You know?” he demanded, an aghast look upon his face.
“I told her everything,” Christopher interjected as he stepped forward, his gaze touching upon Juliet’s for a split second before he redirected his attention back to her brother. “She knows what happened, what I did.” He sighed. “No more secrets.”
“How can you forgive him for what he did?” Troy snarled, ignoring Christopher’s attempt to mend fences.
Juliet grasped her brother’s arm more tightly.
“We all make mistakes,” she said softly, praying that somehow her brother would understand.
“I’m aware of what happened, of the circumstances back then, and I cannot hold what happened against him.
” Her eyes pleaded with him to hear her.
“I love him, and I know he loves me as well. This is our chance to be happy…finally after all this time. Please, Brother, can you not be happy for me? For us?”
The blazing anger in Troy’s eyes seemed to subside a little as confusion clawed to the forefront.
His eyes searched her face, incomprehension visible in the frown that touched upon his forehead.
“After everything he did,” he hissed, the look in his eyes suddenly distant as though he was not even seeing her, “you still want him?”
Juliet sighed deeply. “I never forgot him. I tried, but I never could. Whether or not we love is not our choice.” She reached up and cupped her hand to his cheek. “But this, here, now is my choice. I want him. He is my choice, and I need you to be happy for me.”
Suddenly, only sadness rested in Troy’s eyes, deep, soul-crushing sadness. He heaved a deep sigh, then closed his eyes as though it were too painful for him to look at her.
Never had Juliet seen her brother like this.
He had always been composed and in control, no unruly emotions sparking in his eyes, his voice even and calm.
She had always thought of him as a rational man.
Of course, he was not cold-hearted, far from it; however, she had always received the impression that he did not place much stock in emotions, thinking them less important somehow.
Perhaps she had been wrong.
“You should return to the ball,” Troy gritted out through clenched teeth as he took a step away from her, her hand falling from his face.
The look in his eyes now held nothing but resignation.
It broke Juliet’s heart to see her beloved brother like this.
What had done this to him? Or perhaps rather… who?
“Troy,” she called after him as he stepped up to the door, “have you…have you ever been in love?”
Troy stilled, and for a long moment, he said nothing.
He barely moved, except for his shoulders moving with each breath he forced down into his lungs.
Juliet did not know why, but she could not shake the feeling that he was in pain somehow.
Then his hand settled on the door handle, and without turning around, he once more said, “You should return to the ball.” Then he disappeared.
A deep breath rushed from Juliet’s lungs, her earlier happiness darkened by the questions and concerns that now settled in her heart.
She spun around, her hands reaching for Christopher’s.
His face still held that same guilty expression, now mingling with the same sorrow she herself felt.
“What happened between the two of you?” she asked, searching his eyes.
“I’ve never seen him like this. Something hurt him deeply.
” Her eyebrows rose as she looked deeper into Christopher’s eyes.
“Or was it someone? Not you,” she murmured, thinking out loud.
“He’s furious with you, but you are not the one who hurt him. You’re not the one who broke his—”
Juliet’s heart seized with a sudden realization. “Nora!” she exclaimed, gripping Christopher’s hands more tightly. “It’s Nora, is it not?”
Sighing deeply, Christopher nodded. “I failed your brother,” he admitted in a subdued voice, full of regret and self-reproach, “as I failed my sister.” He heaved a deep sigh, then straightened his shoulders.
“Years ago, it was the day of Nora’s wedding, Troy came to me out of the blue and handed me a letter.
He didn’t tell me anything else, but just urged me to give it to her right away.
I asked him what this was about, but he wouldn’t say. ”
Juliet frowned. “You didn’t, though, did you? What happened?”
Christopher cleared his throat. “Only moments after Troy handed me the letter and left, I all but stumbled upon another upon my mother’s writing desk.
Only this one announced my son’s birth.” He closed his eyes, his head shaking from side to side.
“After that, my thoughts circled around only one thing: seeing my son.” His eyes looked pleadingly into hers.
“I never meant to forget Troy’s letter. It…
” He shrugged. “It slipped my mind. I was already on the road by the time I rediscovered it in my pocket. Had I known what it said, I would’ve… I would’ve…”
Juliet nodded, needing him to know that she believed him, that she did not blame him for anything. “Was it a letter confessing his love to her?”
“I assume so. However, I never read it. I only figured it did once I returned and learned of Troy’s odd behavior following my sister’s wedding.
” He heaved a deep sigh. “I still have it,” he glanced toward the door through which Troy had left, “and now I wonder if perhaps I should give it to Nora after all.”
“Perhaps you should,” Juliet replied in a shaky voice. “Perhaps it is not too late yet. They lost their chance all those years ago…as did we.” She smiled up at him, sadness mixing with happiness as she considered their rocky path. “Yet here we are.”
A deeply emotional smile came to Christopher’s face before he pulled her into his arms. “Yes, here we are,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. “Betrothed, and soon to be married.”
Smiling, Juliet nodded. “Soon.”
“When shall we tell your family? Now?” He frowned. “Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow.” Again, he glanced toward the door. “I think I will try and speak to Troy again.”
“Thank you,” Juliet said, snuggling closer into his embrace. “It pains me to see him like this.”
Christopher’s arms tightened around her as he rested his chin on top of her head. “It pains me as well.”
“When will you leave for Ireland?”
Christopher heaved a deep sigh, his embrace tightening upon her, as though every fiber of his being was unwilling to let her go so soon. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow after we tell them.” He stepped back and looked down at her. “Come with me.”
Juliet was tempted to agree. “I think you should go alone, prepare your son, tell him who awaits him here.” She smiled up at him. “I think I need a little time to prepare myself as well.”
Christopher nodded in understanding. “Well then, shall we return to the ball?”
Nodding, Juliet accepted his arm, and they left the library.
Indeed, something else needed preparing before their son returned home.
Never had Juliet been one to confront others, to stand tall and speak up.
Now, however, she would be a mother and she would not fail her son as Christopher’s mother had failed him.
No, while Christopher went to fetch their child, she would go and visit Lady Lockhart and set her straight about how a grandmother—let alone a mother! —should be.
It was about time someone did.