Page 46 of Atone, Adonis

Julianna flinched because his words were some ugly transmogrification of her own thoughts. But she knew, too, they weren’t true. That she could separate what was best for her brother from her own wants and desires. She could be clear-eyed about both, even when they came into conflict.

“This is not about Fred,” she said.

“It is entirely about him.”

The door opened behind her.

“Enough.” Fred’s voice was quiet, but it cut a deadly swath through the room nonetheless. He stood just inside the threshold, his expression murderous. “You will not speak to her in that manner.”

Thomas gave a short, breathless laugh. “Or you’ll what? Throw me out yourself?”

“If I must.” Fred took a step further into the room. “I can have you carried out of here today, Tom. Do not test me.”

“You would force me out then?”

“I will do as Jules asks,” Fred said. “If that requires force, then yes.”

Thomas’s gaze flicked to Julianna. “This is who you’ve chosen over your own brother?”

Julianna sighed. “Fred is my husband. And you are my brother. You are not in competition.”

She studied him, the hollowness beneath his eyes, the tremor he could not quite still in his hands and tried a different tack.

“If I wished to be without you, Thomas, I would have left you in the cold of Farrow Cottage. Where you were, without question, dying. But I brought you here to give you a chance. And now I am asking—no, I am begging—you to consider this because it might give you more time. Better time.”

“I would have to leave you,” he said.

“Yes.” Her voice broke before she could stop it. “But that doesn’t mean we no longer love each other. Nor does a change in our circumstance diminish who you are to me, who you have been all these years. Nothing will change that, Tom. I promise you.”

He let his head fall back against the pillows. “Except my bad behavior.”

“Hopefully not even that. Although I would be grateful if you’d cut it out.”

Thomas managed one of his old, smirking grins.

“I will come to you as often as I am able,” Julianna said. “And I will write. I don’t mean to abandon you, only to help you. But the choice is yours.”

He closed his eyes and was silent for a long moment. Long enough that she thought he would refuse her again. But then he said faintly, “Very well.”

Julianna didn’t move. Nor did she look at Fred, who had exhaled quietly from his place by the doorway.

“You’ll go?” she asked.

“Yes,” Thomas said, not opening his eyes. “But if I hate it—or if it does not make me better—will you let me come home?”

“Of course.” She reached for his hand again. This time, he let her take it.

Chapter

16

Thomas insisted on walking to the carriage unaided. Fred kept his mouth shut, although the effort cost him. His jaw would hurt for hours afterward from clenching it so tightly. But Tom, he knew, would rather fall flat on his face than allow Fred to openly support him. So he walked a step behind, there just in case.

Thomas stumbled once, so badly Julianna cried out, and Fred lurched forward to catch him, but he steadied himself before Fred could lay a hand on him. Ahead of them Mrs. Sykes fussed with blankets and the physician sat solemnly in the carriage. Gilbert oversaw the loading of trunks with his usual efficiency. The coachman poked at the thawing piles of snow, ensuring the ground would allow for a smooth enough trip.

It was only Fred and Julianna who found themselves without a definite job to do.

No. Fred looked at his wife. He did have a clear duty here, which was to keep her spirits up. And to give her whatever comfort he could.