“Yes…and no.” Slayde studied his sister, trying to view her as a woman and not as the child he’d become responsible for ten years past. “You have the same coloring—other than your eyes—and similar builds. Otherwise, I see little resemblance.”
“Is she pretty?”
“I wouldn’t know,” was the curt reply. “She’s swathed in bandages and enveloped by bedcovers.”
“How long will she be staying at Pembourne?”
“That depends on how quickly she heals.” Slayde paused, frowning. “A better question is, where will she go afterward?”
Silence hung heavily in the room.
“She needn’t go anywhere,” Aurora put in at last. “In fact, I’d be relieved if she’d stay as long as possible. With you perpetually away, I’m virtually alone, with the exception of the army of servants you’ve hired to keep vigil over me. A companion would be delightful.”
Slayde’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully on his sister. “I realize you loathe your isolation. I always assumed it was because being confined to Pembourne made it impossible for you to gallivant beyond your lighthouse or get into some other form of mischief. In truth, I never considered the fact that you might be lonely.”
“There’s quite a lot you never considered.” A shrug. “You’re a loner, Slayde. As a result, you expect the rest of the world to follow suit. Well, not all of us are able to exist in utter solitude.”
“There isn’t always a choice.”
“Maybe, in my case, we’ve just found one.”
“You don’t know that Miss Johnston will choose to remain at Pembourne. She’s not the type to accept charity. I sense a great deal of pride beneath that broken exterior.”
“You sense a great deal for a man who spends little or no time around others.”
Again, silence.
“Does Miss Johnston understand all that’s happened?” Aurora inquired.
“Unfortunately, yes. And she’s devastated by it.”
“I’m sure she is.” Aurora traced the intricate pattern of the bedcovers with her forefinger. “Slayde—may I at least speak with her? I realize I was very young when Mama and Papa died. Still, perhaps there’s something I could say. Something that would ease her pain—even a bit.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Perhaps so. But not for several hours. She drifted off a minute before Matilda announced your arrival, and she’ll probably sleep for some time now, thanks to the laudanum Dr. Gilbert left. When she awakens, I’ll introduce you.”
“Excellent.” Aurora rose. “Now you may lecture me on my outrageous behavior and the heinous outcome that could have resulted from my joining Elinore on her trip to London.”
“Would it do any good?”
“Probably not.”
Slayde shook his head. “Maybe asking Miss Johnston to stay is a good idea at that, if only to divert your attention away from the outside world and all its allure.”
“Or to enlighten me about it,” Aurora proposed with a grin.
“Don’t push me, Aurora. I’m not feeling very tolerant right now.” Slayde glanced restlessly toward the bedchamber door. “I have things to resolve before Miss Johnston awakens.”
“Then go resolve them.”
Slayde hesitated, feeling that all-too-familiar discomfort that accompanied his infrequent parental interaction with his sister. “Do you require anything?”
“No. But should that situation change, I’m perfectly capable of getting what I need. Remember, Slayde, while you’re abroad for months at a time—doing whatever it is you do—I’m fending for myself. I hardly require an overseer.”
“As your reckless little excursion to Town just proved,” was the dry retort.
Aurora rolled her eyes. “I told you—”
“I know what you told me.” Slayde’s jaw tightened in flagrant warning. “The subject is closed. You are not to leave Pembourne without permission again. Is that understood?”