Wolfsgate by Cat Porter

wafted across his lips at the mention of his mother, then faded just as quickly. Justine twisted away from his heavy gaze and dove under the water. When she came up she saw he was staring over at the rocks where her stepsister, Annie, only fourteen years old at the time, had met her death years ago. They were all so much younger then and under the umbrella of what they had considered to be a family.
    “It seems like a hundred years ago, I swear,” his hoarse voice broke the eerie silence. A shadow crossed his features, his mouth downturned.
    “Yes, it does,” she said softly. “Brandon, you did everything you could have possibly done to save her.”
    He rubbed the sides of his face. “That is at the root of all of this, isn’t it? His sister’s death at my hands secured William’s anger towards me forever.”
    “Annie was already dead when you got here. Stuck in the rocks, taken under in the floodwaters.” Justine chewed her lip. “And anyway, we all know I was to blame.”
    “Justine!”
    “It’s true, isn’t it? I knew she wanted to go see the frogs in the middle of the night, but she had sworn me to secrecy. We were to go together, but I had fallen asleep, so she went on her own. I woke up, her bed was empty, and I just knew. I was too terrified to go to Richard or to William.”
    “You came to me,” Brandon said, his voice low.
    “Yes, somehow I found the nerve to go to your chamber and wake you, tell you that she was missing and most likely at the creek. You took off immediately, we barely got your boots on you. I shall never forget standing in the pouring rain on the front steps watching you fly off down the muddy hill. I shall never forget it.”
    “But I was too late.”
    “If only I hadn’t fallen asleep or if I had woken up earlier, hadn’t tarried in coming to you.”
    “Stop it, Justine,” he said, floating closer to her, his brow furrowed. “Annie was quite impetuous. She was a good girl, but so damned impulsive. Even if you had been awake, you couldn’t have stopped her. I warrant she would have had you out here in the floodwaters with her. We would have lost you too, but thank Providence you’re here,” he said, his voice low, his heavy gaze holding hers. “I couldn’t get her loose no matter what I did. Her foot had gotten stuck on that goddamned rock, her dress had twisted around her pulling her down like a lead weight.”
    “Brandon…” She laid her hand on his bare arm.
    “I will never forget finding her face down in the rushing water, bobbing like a lifeless object.” His hand quickly covered hers and gripped it tightly. “Our very own Ophelia.”
    She released her hold on his arm. “Annie was no Ophelia. There was not a sullen or gloomy bone in her body. From the moment I entered their house when my mother married Richard, she never once showed me any resentment or wickedness. Ever,” Justine whispered. “From the very first, she treated me as a true sister. Annie was my best friend, and I will never forget her. Her death changed everything for me, even more so than my own mother’s passing.”
     
    A twinge ached in the hollow of Brandon’s chest. After Annie’s death, everything had indeed changed once again in their house, just as it had when his mother had died a few years before that. It was as if a noose had tightened around them all over again. Justine, who had once been a smiling, affectionate young girl, had transformed into a shy and withdrawn creature who rarely laughed in the forthright way she always had.
    Her mother had passed away after a short illness, just the year before Annie’s sudden death, and after that Justine spent most of her time with her governess rather than with Brandon and William. On occasion, Amanda’s younger brother Andrew would draw her out, but it was generally frowned upon. William had grown cold and churlish after the shocking loss of his beloved sister. He never had a kind word for Justine after that and wouldn’t allow