Damien's Destiny (17 page)

“Not really, Damien. I know you’d like to, even as I wish I could help you. We both have to work out our own destinies, I guess. I intend to interrogate the head stewards at each of your estates and will let you know the best one to bring here. I have two in mind already.”

“No one can take over as my friend, Jase. You know that. When will you leave?”

Jason voice was determined. “Tomorrow, Damien. Please tell the others after I go. I don’t want anyone but you to know until then. Like anyone else, I hate goodbyes.”

Damien nodded. Although he’d halfway suspected something of the sort, he’d never expected Jason to leave so soon.

His world was shattering around him.

Damned if he’d let it all go with a protest.

He shook Jason’s hand firmly and watched him walk away. He wouldn’t stand by for this drooping by everyone he loved. He’d had enough of the stillness in this house.

* * * * *

When Jason appeared at breakfast he was his usual self. Joking a little, teasing both girls and eating his food in a leisurely manner.

After they’d both gone to their rooms he turned to Damien.

“I’m only taking two bags with me. I want to travel as lightly as possible and I’ll leave directly from Castle Oaks.”

At the mention of his estate the furthest from Tregaron Damien realized his good friend was actually leaving. For the first time the truth sank in, bringing a dreadful sense of wrenching loss.

Jason shoved himself to his feet and faced Damien.

“You know I thank you more than words can express. Take care of the women for me and try to shake Rafe out of the pit of self-pity he’s sunk into. I think it will take drastic measures but you can manage.”

He clasped Damien’s shoulders.

“I promise I’ll be in touch from time to time. And I’ll send word of your best choice for my replacement.”

He turned and strode out. Damien had clasped both his hands and then let them go and stood in silence. There was nothing he could say. In fact at the moment he was incapable of speech without howling.

But by Merlin he’d take Jason’s advice about Rafe. And deal with the others at the same time. He’d had more than enough of the silence draping Tregaron like a shroud. He was losing Jason. By Merlin he’d lose no more friends.

He went to the door and waved Jason off and then called Stephens.

“Please inform Lady Debora, Miss Victoria and Lord Chittenden I shall expect them in my study exactly one half hour from now. Tell them it’s my order, not my request.”

Stephen’s eyes widened at his master’s stern tone and words and scurried off to carry out Damien’s orders.

Damien knew the girls would come. He wasn’t sure about Rafe but would use his mage’s power if necessary. He preferred to have him come on his own, however, as using mental force sometimes left the recipient a little dazed. He thought Rafe would come, if only out of curiosity.

When all three presented themselves each seemed resentful. Of course. Doubtless he’d been a little preemptory. Of them all Rafe seemed the most interested. Debora and Toria looked mutinous. Damien invited each one to sit down as soon as he entered but said nothing until the assemblage was complete.

Damien didn’t bother to stand. He sat at his desk, his hands steepled. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind of his determination.

Rafe spoke up first.

“The naughty children have been summoned to be scolded, no doubt.”

Damien knew it would take a lot to crack that shell of indifference and cynicism.

He fixed his cold eyes on each of them in turn.

“Exactly, Raphael. All of you. I’ll start with Victoria.”

Damien saw her start at the formal use of her name.

“I am tired of living in a home that should be filled with love and laughter, only to encounter an iciness in each of you I find repelling. Toria, you’ve been walking around like a frightened rabbit. I don’t intend to pounce on you and eat you. I think you once found me polite and you will find me so again if you care to reciprocate. I do not find it well-mannered of you to spend the day in your room.

“I will say the same to you, Debora. Each of you seems to think you are the only one in the world with problems and has withdrawn into yourself in a rude and unacceptable manner. I expect pleasant and considerate behavior of my guests and I will endeavor to return the courtesy. Much as you try my patience, I am still friends to both of you, as well as your host.

“Raphael, the same applies to you, only in spades. Your conduct is inexcusable. You have a god-given talent you are neglecting, when all the painting materials you need are at hand. Your arm is healed, yet you communicate with no one. You are pleasant to no one. You think only of yourself and always with pity.

“I have lost patience with the three of you.”

There was a moment’s stunned silence. Toria and Debby looked at him in amazement, while Rafe flared.

“Have you then invaded my room? How do you know I’m not painting there?”

Damien found the anger a very good sign. Anything but the indifference he’d feared.

“I haven’t invaded your room and I don’t know. Even if you are, it’s hardly furthering your talent. Tregaron abounds in beautiful vistas. Have you even thought about tackling something bigger than a bookend? Oh and Jason has left us, perhaps forever.”

Rafe looked incredulous, then stood and stalked out of the room. White with anger and as riled as Damien could have wished.

Debora’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, Damien. You’re right. Self-pity is a horrible emotion. And I’m so sorry to hear about Jase.”

She too turned and left and he looked at Toria. How would she react to his unprecedented sternness?

She flung her head up and looked him in the eye.

“Will you go riding with me, my lord?”

“When?” he asked bluntly.

“As soon as I can change clothes.”

Damien looked at her beloved features, her eyes a trifle defiant but once again the Toria he loved. Not the silent creature who’d haunted his house for days. She’d come to some decision on her own during the sequestered days in her room. This was more change than his reproach could effect. He didn’t know what she was thinking but at least a portion of the girl he adored had returned.

“I’d be delighted, my dear. As long as you can remember my name.”

She smiled just a little and left to don her riding habit.

Damien sat back in his chair.

Perhaps he’d achieved something. He’d have to wait and see how much. And he’d done what he felt he had to do. It was worth whatever enmity he aroused if he’d somehow helped these people he loved. He’d lost Jason, at least for now. He wanted to keep these three safe and sheltered in the arms of his love but wasn’t sure he could. He must have their permission in order to help them at all.

He’d never expected his confidence could be so shaken. Not in his mage’s abilities but in his own as a man. Toria had led him to the realization he wanted only willing cooperation from those dear to him.

Forcing love would be meaningless.

He went to don his own riding outfit and hurried back down the stairs.

Toria was waiting and he held the door open for her. He almost feared to say a word as they walked quickly to the stables, where the grooms quickly mounted them.

“I don’t think I should stay out too long, Damien.”

They rode out of the stable yard as he agreed, since he knew she hadn’t been getting much exercise lately and might tire easily.

He couldn’t think of a safe topic to introduce, so remained silent. Finally she spoke.

“Is Jason gone for long?”

He certainly didn’t intend to discuss Jason’s reason for leaving.

“I think so, Toria.”

He changed the conversation to news he’d just received from London.

“Wyoming has been admitted as the forty-fourth state in the United States of America. They insisted on retaining women’s suffrage as a condition for joining. I find politics in the United States almost as fascinating as they are in Great Britain.”

Definitely an interesting topic to Toria.

“How famous, Damien. Do you think women will ever get the vote here?”

He chuckled. “Anxious to vote, Toria? Yes, women will be recognized as the intelligent creatures they are someday. But not yet. They will have a lot of battles to fight here first. Some of our more far-seeing politicians must help them.”

Toria sighed. “It seems so unfair, Damien.”

He smiled at her indignant tone. “The world sometimes is, Toria. It truly is.”

They spoke little after that, which was perhaps as well. There were very few topics of conversation he felt safe to introduce once they left politics.

He thought of the gorgeous fall weather but such a commonplace conversation would sound inane. Colored leaves of russet and gold were already falling at the edges of the lawn at Tregaron. Asters and chrysanthemums bloomed in the flower beds bordering the grass and honking geese heading south flew over their heads. Autumn as usual was filled with glory.

Did Toria even notice how lovely his home now appeared? Her life had indeed been unfair in many respects but he didn’t intend to walk into the sand bog of voicing anything personal.

* * * * *

Rafe joined him for breakfast the next morning, spoke almost pleasantly but ate little. In a very short while Damien spotted him headed for one of his walks but this time he carried his painting kit. Damien turned from the window, as pleased as he could remember since the debacle with Toria. Well, the fact of Toria riding with him was just as welcome but they hadn’t ridden for long. Now she’d opened the door he hoped to do better today.

Debora and Toria came in the room almost together and both smiled but talked little. Were they still wary of him? Did they think he was going to start ranting at them again?

He invited them both to go riding and Toria accepted. Debby pleaded an overdue consultation with the housekeeper. At least she was no longer isolating herself. Rafe stayed out longer painting that day and came in finally flushed and pleased. He went up to his room but Damien saw him look around as if seeking someone and wondered if it was possibly Debora.

The third day Rafe came in with a painting under his arm. They all were having a glass of wine in the library and Rafe turned the picture around to show them all, obviously pleased with his work. He’d depicted the view from the cliffs in the exquisite and far-ranging colors of the sea, the rather calm waves extending to the horizon with a small boat far out on the waters. Colors changed from blue to aqua to a deep blue-purple and sea gulls hovered near the shore. Certainly a serene scene and yet something about the picture was unsettling. With a single ominous-looking wave in the middle of the water he’d created the illusion of danger.

“Rafe, that’s wonderful,” Debora exclaimed. “You’ve captured both the majesty and yet the feeling the ocean is not always so calm. I don’t know how you did so much with so little.”

Rafe looked inordinately pleased. “And I don’t know how you know so exactly what I’m trying to portray. Thank you, Debora.”

As Damien and Toria added their congratulations Damien felt his heart literally swell in his chest. His family, these three dear people, were again his friends. And Rafe had started on the way back to being the painter he was meant to be.

They passed a normal dinner hour, the men talking mostly politics and the girls intercepting now and then with a question or a comment. Damien knew Rafe read the morning papers as assiduously as himself. The one subject they didn’t discuss was Africa. Since Cecil Rhodes had been recently elected as Prime Minister of Cape Colony it should have been a natural topic of conversation but Damien wasn’t about to introduce that subject. He knew Rafe’s mind was starting to heal but didn’t trust any topic that even touched on the torture the man had endured.

A week went by pleasantly and uneventfully. Damien and Toria lengthened their ride each day. One morning Toria blushed, was silent for a moment and then broached the subject of helping Damien again with his notes. He tried not to show too much delight as he accepted. It would still be hell for him to have her so near but that was something he must become accustomed to. Anything seemed better than distant silence. Their rides were no longer mostly wordless and she was gradually starting to converse with more ease.

Matters between them seemed more natural than they’d been before Jason left, although still far from the closeness they’d once known. A closeness his heart craved. His mind told him to leave the situation alone. He didn’t want to take any chances. Damien still felt no assurance he’d eventually win Toria. His confidence in his powers remained badly shaken.

Yet there was no one more powerful than himself to turn to. He greatly feared he might not be enough.

Chapter Fifteen

The next day Rafe fidgeted at breakfast, turning his fork in his hand. Looking down at his scrambled eggs he asked Debora if she’d like to go with him today on his painting trek.