heâd been forced to listen to the two most interesting people on the estate make friends with each other. Ash let out a small growl of frustration.
At that moment, Mark sauntered into the room. He took one look at Ash and shook his head.
âDonât be ridiculous, older brother.â His voice was annoyingly cheerful. Ash was convinced he put on that bright expression on purpose, just to annoy him. He became even more sure when Mark leaned over the arm of his chair and favored him with a brilliant smile. âIâve never even touched her, you know.â
âIt hardly matters. Neither have I.â
âThat was rather the point.â Mark pushed away from Ashâs seat and turned around. âCome now. Chastity builds character.â
Ash held back a rude noise. Heâd wanted to spend time with his brother, not antagonize him further.
âIf you must know,â Mark continued, âshe reminds me of Hope.â
A brief band of pain constricted about Ashâs chest. âSheâs nothing like Hope.â But his brotherâs words brought to mind a picture of their sister, her hair long and dark, her smile fragile. It was an image he couldnât forget, even had he wanted to. She should have been a grown woman now. She would have been, if Parford had acted when Ash begged him to do so.
âWhat do you remember of her, anyway?â
âNot enough. Her hands. Her laugh. I remember that after she died, everything seemed to change so quickly. It was as if she had been the gatekeeper to allthat was good in the world, and with her goneâ¦â Mark shrugged again. âBut all thatâs over. Still, I remember enough of the nightmare that followed to know that itâs a hellish thing to be alone in the world, unprotected.â
âMiss Lowell doesnât need protection from me. â
âSheâs employed by the Dalrymples, Ash. What do you suppose will happen to her when we leave and Richard and Edmund return? Do you fancy leaving her to their tender mercies, then?â
He hadnât fancied leaving her behind at all. But if he said that, Mark would tease him all the more. âI hadnât thought what would happen when we left,â Ash said stiffly.
âNo. You wouldnât.â Mark spoke this piece of brazen treachery with an utterly matter-of-fact manner.
Ash flinched. He could not make himself look away from his brotherâs gaze. He spent half the days wishing Mark would talk to him. It was in moments like this that he wished to take it all back. He wished he could push his brother away. That he could forget what he had done to his brothersâor rather, what he hadnât.
âChrist, Mark.â
âYou donât always think about others the way you should,â Mark said simply.
That criticism cut more deeply than the reference to Hope. Mark stated it so mildly, making the wound sting all the more. Markâs gaze was as piercing as only someone who had survived the precise contours of oneâs faults could be.
âI think about others every damned second of the day. Itâs because of you that Iâm here, after all, because of what I wanted to give youââ
âAnd still you stomp about, leaving little eddies of destruction in your wake.â
Hell. Guilt was bad enough, without having his brother point out his every flaw. Ash had been the one to solemnly swear that he would protect and defend the younger children. He had been the one who had nodded as his father told him that their mother was given to excess. Heâd solemnly promised to temper her zeal.
Heâd failed. A few years later, despite his best efforts, his sister had died. A few months after that, Ash had left for India, determined to make his fortune and thus undo everything their mother had done.
But heâd left his brothers behind. He would never be able to forget the sick sensation heâd felt when he found Mark and