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James and Atticus hoisted the dead body of Thorne Geary onto the mortuary table. Wrapped in the bedding still, it made a cracking noise as James forced the joints into a prone position. The body had already begun to stiffen when he had found it on the bed. His jaw clenched again at the thought of the utter stupidity of his sister.
In a voice as thick and slippery as arterial blood, Dumbarton only made one comment, after pulling the sheet back to view the face beneath the shroud. “I see that love is part of the bargain.”
James briefly stiffened as he walked away. No response was expected, and so none was given.
***
Outside, James inhaled a lungful of ozone and the stench that could only be found in London. Throwing a nod and a grunt at Atticus, he turned and began the walk back to Chamber House. He did not wish to be in another carriage. The rain would help wash away the last few hours.
As he walked, his mind replayed various vignettes from the evening. The flash of relief in Lorna’s eyes when he walked into the sitting room after being gone for three days. The flounce and backwards glance that Zilpha tossed in his direction when he instructed her to sit. He was well aware that the glance was tossed at him like scraps to a starving animal. His mind returned to the scene he found in the Geary bedroom. It was readily apparent that Geary was killed in his sleep, only awaking when his skin was about to be pierced. James ran his hand over his face in frustration, tugging at his beard. Stupid, stupid waste. A thought skittered across his mind- Lorna would know better than to kill a man in her own bed.
James was aware that he no longer knew his sister. She was now so steeped in London that he had no use for her. Approaching Chamber House, James shook himself like a dog let himself in. In the entry way he placed his hat on the table and ran his gloved hand over his hair, scrubbing at the scar there. He wanted one of two things, to drown himself in brandy, or drown himself between Lorna’s thighs.
***
Lorna, lying in bed, heard the door open once again. Sleep was not coming easily- first the waves of relief upon James returning, then the arrival of the creature Zilpha in the dead of night, followed by Brace stomping around. And she had heard James very quietly leave prior to the arrival of Zilpha’s carriage. Lorna was too proud to eavesdrop on the conversation between James and Zilpha- besides there were things best left unknown about that relationship. But she was not too proud to admit that she was relieved that Zilpha was not allowed to stay, nor was she taken upstairs. Lorna’s stomach clenched again at the thought of James taking Zilpha up to his attic room.
But now James was back from whatever errand he had to perform. Lorna knew that he was in the sitting room, she heard the clink of the decanter against a glass. She had hoped that he would come up and storm into her room, her love of the dramatic providing rich images of being thrown over his shoulder and carried to his bed. Damn the man for walking about the house in various stages of undress. Quickly making up her mind, Lorna reached for her wrap and threw back the coverlet.
***
James heard her door open, and her light tread on the steps. He could have gotten up and poured her a glass. He could have gotten up and put another log on the fire. He did neither, as he knew if he stood as she walked into the room, that he would do something rash, such as push her wrap off her shoulders and pull her into his arms. And James had felt that option two, drown in brandy, was the best course of action this evening. So he burrowed himself further into the sagging couch and poured more brandy down his throat.
Lorna moved into the room, glanced at James, and poured herself her own glass. Settling into her preferred chair, she tucked her feet up and sipped.
Their eyes met and they both regarded each other carefully. Seconds ticked by that felt like hours, and Lorna dropped her eyes first.
Lorna broke the silence, “Should I know what has happened this evening?” James grunted a negative. “Well, the dislike that Brace has for your sister seems to be more than his dislike for me,” Lorna continued.
That earned her a snort that could have been amusement. “Brace has no love for Zilpha. No loyalty either, as apparently my father disowned her prior to my return.”
“Your father never mentioned your sister in the months that we were together. After dealing with her husband the few times I have had been in his presence, I can understand why.”
James waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, which Lorna took to mean that discussing either Geary or Horace was not wanted at this time. Silence descended again, as they both sipped their brandy. James could tell that Lorna was mulling something over in her mind. Closing his eyes, he hoped that she would adjourn back to her room so that he would stop being tempted to look at the pale expanse of skin glowing above her bodice. Lorna should always be bathed in firelight, he determined.
Unfortunately for James, after three days of worry- together with putting up with the veiled insults of Thoyte and the drunken intimidations of Geary- the reticence to acknowledge her growing attraction?feelings? for James was failing. Lorna set her glass down with an air of decision.
“James. Will your sister be going with you to America?”
Lorna held her breath as James opened his eyes and stared at the dwindling flames. After an eternity, he replied, “No.”
Lorna sighed audibly and stood. Brushing down her nightgown, she cocked an eyebrow as James rolled his eyes towards her. “Good. She is not a suitable woman for you.”
With that, Lorna swept out of the room and returned upstairs. As James slipped his eyes closed once again, his own words echoed through his thoughts Tell me one thing that is not just a matter of time.