‘I heard her say that she was glad to see him,’ Oliver muttered, running a hand over his face and slumping in his chair. ‘Damn, Tom. I never thought it would hurt this much.’
‘Love?’ Tom gave a harsh laugh. ‘Love is the worst pain known to man.’
Momentarily distracted, Oliver looked at his brother, realising that the statement had deeper implications. ‘I assume you’re talking about Sally. I’ve always wanted to know why you ended it.’
‘Because I thought she was too young to make that sort of commitment…’ Tom paused for a moment and his firm mouth curved into a smile of self-mockery. ‘And I was stupid,’ he finished softly. ‘Incredibly stupid.’
Knowing that Tom never talked about Sally, Oliver held his breath. ‘And if you could put the clock back?’
‘It’s too late for that,’ Tom said harshly, glancing quickly at his watch, ‘but it isn’t too late for you. I suggest you go back to the cottage and knock him down. Then drag the maiden back to your lair and have your wicked way with her.’
He’d done that the night before.
It didn’t seem to have made even the slightest difference to her final decision.
Oliver gave a weary smile. ‘Helen’s made her choice.’
Tom frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound like you. If you love her, fight for her! You’ve always fought for everything you believed in. Literally, when you were younger. You had permanent black eyes at one point.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘The one thing I can’t fight is her love for another man, Tom. It has to be her decision. And she’s made it.’
Helen stood on the freezing platform, wishing the train would arrive.
Once she was safely on her way, maybe she’d lose the desperate urge to run back to Oliver.
She glanced around her, realising that she was the only person waiting for the train.
Five more minutes. Five more minutes and then the Lake District would be part of her past.
And so would Oliver.
From the tiny station car park she heard the slam of a car door, a masculine shout and then footsteps. Her heart lifted, only to plummet again as she saw Tom striding towards her.
‘Is something wrong?’ She looked around her but the platform was still empty, which meant that she could be the only reason for the visit.
‘Plenty.’ Tom raked long fingers through his dark hair. ‘Look, I’m probably going to say the wrong thing here—heaven knows, I’ve made a complete mess of my own love life so I’m certainly not qualified to tamper with anyone else’s—’ He broke off and took a deep breath. ‘Do you love Oliver?’
Helen looked at him, startled. ‘Sorry?’
Tom gritted his teeth impatiently. ‘Do you love my brother?’
‘Well, I—’
‘It’s a simple question, Helen. Yes or no?’
‘Yes,’ she croaked, rubbing the toe of her boot on the frosty surface of the platform. ‘Yes, I do. But it was just a bit of fun for him.’
Tom gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘You may love him, but you don’t know him very well, do you? He thinks you’re reunited with David. He doesn’t want you to feel guilty about going back to him. He’s making things easy for you. It’s pure Oliver.’
‘Easy?’ Helen stared at him and swallowed hard. ‘Seeing Oliver so cool this morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to bear, particularly after last night—’ She broke off and blushed, realising what she’d just said, but Tom gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
‘So you’re not going back to David?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I couldn’t. I love Oliver.’
‘Then why are you going back to London?’
Helen glanced down the track and saw the train approaching. ‘Because I can’t live here and see Oliver every day. It would hurt too much, knowing that he doesn’t love me.’