Finn frowned. “From whom?”
“The courier didn’t say. Only that this was to be given into your hands personally once you were awake.” He placed the box into Finn’s hands. “I’ll check the status of your tea.” The man closed the door after himself.
“Thank you.” Baffled, he pulled the string, which Wellington promptly claimed, and tore through the wrapping. Inside the box, a notecard waited. “What’s this?” With trembling fingers, he opened the note.
Finn,
My world nearly crumbled when Royce told me of your injury and your intent following that wonderful evening. Despite the fact you’ve acted like the world’s greatest nodcock, I’m determined to pursue what’s between us. This crisis has only shown me how much I’ve come to enjoy our time together. Quite frankly, I refuse to let death, or your personal demons, take you from me.
Enclosed, please find a couple of items that might aid your… problems. One is what they call a cock ring with an extension sheath. The other is a wooden phallus… for other uses. If you’re wondering how I came upon them, let me set your mind at ease. Quite simply, I asked my brothers for assistance. After a long and truthful discussion with Royce, he put forth the idea of possibly employing this device. After testing, I’m to report back to him so that he might pass along the information to other men in your position.
Jane
Oh, the embarrassment! Now his surgeon had been appraised of what Finn was doing with Royce’s sister. “Bloody hell.” He rather thought the woman was a tiny bit magical. The fact she harbored no ill-will—hopefully—and still wished to be with him left him gasping with shock. A kernel of hope began to bloom deep inside his soul. Was it possible to grasp happiness in life even though he was paralyzed?
He didn’t have time to properly examine the contraptions in the box, for the sound of the latch being pressed captured Finn’s attention. Perhaps it was tea already. But when the wooden panel swung open, his brother Drew stood on the threshold. The customary scowl slashed across the older man’s face, but he was dressed with the usual sophistication, which befit an earl. Finn frowned at the interruption. Even more so when Wellington growled and then took her string, jumped from the bed, and hid beneath it.
Drew cleared his throat. “Ah, good morning.” For the first time since Finn had known his brother, he seemed ill at ease.
“What are you doing here?” He wished Drew would leave so he could investigate the contents of the package.
“What’s in the box?” Drew countered. When he craned his neck to see, Finn threw the bedclothes over it.
“Nothing that concerns you.” He continued frowning. “What are you doing in London? I thought you’d recently married. Don’t you have a wife to keep you busy, or can she not stomach who you are like the rest of us?” God, that wasn’t well done of him, but he couldn’t help needling his brother.
Drew narrowed his eyes. “I came because you nearly killed yourself.”
Finn snorted. Which meant his brother was here to attempt to bully him out of the notion of trying again. “I was never near death. I simply fell out of my chair and hit my head.”
“But the note you left?”
“Written prematurely in a fit of pique.” He shrugged as heat crept up the back of his neck. “However, that crisis point has passed.”
“How?” Concern creased his brother’s brow. Confusion clouded his blue-gray eyes. “How the devil can you flip between such an intense emotion like depression and then act completely different not four days later?”
“I suppose I’ve found something that distracts me or makes those other emotions less important. Perhaps I’ve found… hope.” Finn cocked his head to one side as he regarded Drew. That change was firmly laid at Jane’s doorstep. “Don’t misunderstand me. When my depression comes to call, there’s every chance I won’t be able to pull myself out of that dark place, especially not alone.”
“That settles it. I’m staying here.” Drew’s voice was gruff from emotion.
“No.” Finn held up a hand. “That’s not the answer. Hell, you seethe with anger even now. Your anger feeds mine, and I don’t want that beast to grow within me.”
“But—”
“Stop.” He grew silent for the space of a few heartbeats. How to explain when he wasn’t certain himself? “No one outside of me can remove what I’m feeling, and no one’s advice can help how I navigate my way through.” It was a personal journey. As he rubbed his fingers along his whisker-covered chin, he nodded. “Neither can I pretend the things that happened to me while on those battlefields didn’t. It is life.”
Drew’s eyes widened slightly. “How do you conquer those emotions without them consuming you?”
“It’s a constant battle. On the days when I’m feeling weaker, then the darkness wins, and my thoughts follow suit.” He shrugged. Damn, but he wished he had a shirt on. His brother’s stare unnerved him. “Having people about with sunny dispositions and determination of their own helps.” Regret wormed its way into his chest. He’d taken Jane’s brand of happiness for grated, and he sorely needed her in his life. A low chuckle escaped him. “Of course, my favorite people to spend time with are those who have their own struggles but have come out the victor, for that gives me hope.”
“I see.” Drew gawked at him.
Did his brother struggle with his own demons in the attempt to grow? “There is one caveat.”
“Oh?”
“For myself, I must want that change, I need to keep moving toward being a better man despite what happened to me.” It was as if Jane sat beside him, encouraging him to finally see. “Going to war showed me that life is short, and I did things merely to survive, but coming home has shown me that life has the potential to be long, and…” He swallowed audibly. “I’d like to be around for some of it, to enjoy the time I have left. Only I can make certain of that.” And he wanted to do that with Jane, to explore what might come if he tried his hand at courting her, perhaps stealing her away from the duke.
Drew finally nodded. “Well then, if you don’t require my assistance…”