companion’s eyes. “Give me the directions to the cottage.”
Chapter 8
Bella looped the reins around a mounting post and walked up the path to the whitewashed cottage. Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on the weathered wooden door. When there was no reply, she knocked again. Again, there was no response. Lifting the latch, she pushed open the door. Expecting the door to creak, she was surprised when it swung open silently. It was when her eyes adjusted to the dimness she realised that despite the dilapidated exterior, the original interior had been improved upon. Although the cottage was sparsely furnished with a table, two chairs and a bed, the stone floors were covered with Aubusson rugs like the ones in the main house.
“Castor?” Closing the door behind her, she ventured deeper into the small residence. “Are you here?” She couldn’t see him yet. “Castor?”
“What’re you doing here?” His voice was rough. Slurred.
Bella walked around the bed, stopping at the sight of Castor sitting on the ground, his back against the wooden frame. Dressed only in a shirt and breeches, his left arm lay on his flat stomach while his right loosely circled the neck of a bottle half full of amber liquid which rested on the ground. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and sat down on the rug beside him.
“When you didn’t return I became concerned and enquired as to your whereabouts.”
“I s’pose my servants told you where I was,” he countered, tone surly.
“They were just as concerned as I was.”
“They should watch their loose tongues if they wish t’keep their positions.” Castor picked up the bottle and took a swig of its contents. When he put it back down, Bella wrapped her hand around it.
“No.” His hand tightened around the neck, gripping it harder.
She turned and looked up at him. “You are being most inhospitable to your visitor. I was going to have a sip of this expensive brandy. That is, if you would share it with me.”
Castor scowled at her before releasing his grip reluctantly. Bella lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a small sip. To her relief, the burn of the alcohol down her throat did not send her into a coughing paroxysm as she had feared. The brandy heated her stomach, the mellow warmth relaxing her. She took another sip and sighed. “This is very nice.”
“Well, it damn well better be as I had to mor’gage my soul to purchase a case.”
Bella tipped her head slightly and surveyed his unshaven countenance. “That seems highly unlikely.”
“Why? B’cause I’m richer than the king?”
“No, I just assumed you sold your soul years ago.”
He didn’t smile at her attempt at a jest. He was silent for a while. Then, “I don’t think the devil’d want my soul.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve only half a soul left.”
Startled, Bella stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”
Castor exhaled sharply and looked away. “My soul was ripped in half when my brother died.” His voice sounded hollow, empty, as if all the emotion he had ever felt had been expended and there was nothing left.
Bella, on the other hand, could feel her heart begin to pound hard in her chest. Despite the physical intimacy they had shared over the last fortnight, not once had he mentioned anything about his family or his past. “What happened?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “You do not want to know the memories I have tried for twenty years to forget.”
“I do, Castor. Tell me.”
“Why?” he asked tonelessly.
“Tell me so that I can understand. Please.” Bella held her breath, wondering if he would answer.
He was silent for a long time. “We were in the carriage. All four of us. Pollux and I were ten. The axle broke. I was told later that my parents and the driver were killed instantly. Somehow I was thrown clear while Pollux …” His gaze was bleak as he looked blankly into space. “He was pinned beneath the frame. I
Chapter 8
Bella looped the reins around a mounting post and walked up the path to the whitewashed cottage. Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on the weathered wooden door. When there was no reply, she knocked again. Again, there was no response. Lifting the latch, she pushed open the door. Expecting the door to creak, she was surprised when it swung open silently. It was when her eyes adjusted to the dimness she realised that despite the dilapidated exterior, the original interior had been improved upon. Although the cottage was sparsely furnished with a table, two chairs and a bed, the stone floors were covered with Aubusson rugs like the ones in the main house.
“Castor?” Closing the door behind her, she ventured deeper into the small residence. “Are you here?” She couldn’t see him yet. “Castor?”
“What’re you doing here?” His voice was rough. Slurred.
Bella walked around the bed, stopping at the sight of Castor sitting on the ground, his back against the wooden frame. Dressed only in a shirt and breeches, his left arm lay on his flat stomach while his right loosely circled the neck of a bottle half full of amber liquid which rested on the ground. She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and sat down on the rug beside him.
“When you didn’t return I became concerned and enquired as to your whereabouts.”
“I s’pose my servants told you where I was,” he countered, tone surly.
“They were just as concerned as I was.”
“They should watch their loose tongues if they wish t’keep their positions.” Castor picked up the bottle and took a swig of its contents. When he put it back down, Bella wrapped her hand around it.
“No.” His hand tightened around the neck, gripping it harder.
She turned and looked up at him. “You are being most inhospitable to your visitor. I was going to have a sip of this expensive brandy. That is, if you would share it with me.”
Castor scowled at her before releasing his grip reluctantly. Bella lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a small sip. To her relief, the burn of the alcohol down her throat did not send her into a coughing paroxysm as she had feared. The brandy heated her stomach, the mellow warmth relaxing her. She took another sip and sighed. “This is very nice.”
“Well, it damn well better be as I had to mor’gage my soul to purchase a case.”
Bella tipped her head slightly and surveyed his unshaven countenance. “That seems highly unlikely.”
“Why? B’cause I’m richer than the king?”
“No, I just assumed you sold your soul years ago.”
He didn’t smile at her attempt at a jest. He was silent for a while. Then, “I don’t think the devil’d want my soul.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve only half a soul left.”
Startled, Bella stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”
Castor exhaled sharply and looked away. “My soul was ripped in half when my brother died.” His voice sounded hollow, empty, as if all the emotion he had ever felt had been expended and there was nothing left.
Bella, on the other hand, could feel her heart begin to pound hard in her chest. Despite the physical intimacy they had shared over the last fortnight, not once had he mentioned anything about his family or his past. “What happened?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “You do not want to know the memories I have tried for twenty years to forget.”
“I do, Castor. Tell me.”
“Why?” he asked tonelessly.
“Tell me so that I can understand. Please.” Bella held her breath, wondering if he would answer.
He was silent for a long time. “We were in the carriage. All four of us. Pollux and I were ten. The axle broke. I was told later that my parents and the driver were killed instantly. Somehow I was thrown clear while Pollux …” His gaze was bleak as he looked blankly into space. “He was pinned beneath the frame. I
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