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D EAD? DEAD? HOW could they be dead?

Hector punched the wall, ignoring the pain burning his knuckles.

In fact, he welcomed it. His mother and his brother couldn’t be dead.

He tossed the table across the room, finding satisfaction in the loud crack of the wood as it hit the wall.

What was the point of going back home if the home was empty?

He smashed the porcelain basin on the floor, splashing water everywhere.

He punched the wall again until blood trickled down his wrist. All those years, he’d been worried sick about his mother and brother, thinking about their pain. For what?

Someone touched his shoulder, and he spun around, ready to yell to leave him alone. All his wrath vanished the moment he stared at a pale, wide-eyed Maddie. She held up her hands, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“Hector,” she whispered.

He opened his fist and stepped away from her, ashamed of having scared her. “I’m sorry.”

“I called you, but you didn’t hear me.” A quiver went through her.

He shoved aside the porcelain shards lest he hurt her again. The outburst hadn’t soothed the sorrow in his chest, but he didn’t feel the need to smash something anymore.

Maddie crouched and started to gather the wooden splinters and the shards.

“No.” He regretted his tone when she jolted. Curse his temper. “I’ll do it. It’s my fault, and you might get hurt.”

Verity was watching them from the threshold, seemingly petrified. He cleaned up the room and dried the floor with a towel while Maddie stood in a corner. He’d terrified the only person he didn’t want to scare. Great.

“You’d better leave,” he said, gathering the pieces of broken wood.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.”

“We’ll call Dr. Landon.” Verity waved her sister closer. “Come, Maddie.”

“But he needs help.”

“I’m sure Lord Wentworth wants a moment alone, don’t you, Lord Wentworth?” Verity reached out to take her sister’s hand.

“Yes, I do.” He sat on the floor in the middle of the chaos. Why had he lost his temper? He didn’t know or care.

“Will you be all right?” Maddie asked.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Maddie paused on the threshold before Verity pulled her out of the cabin. And he was alone with his ghosts.

Hector sat on the stool, waiting for Maddie to return.

After he’d cleaned up his cabin and Dr. Landon had changed the bandage on his hand, he’d asked him to call her and bring everything necessary to shave him.

He was calm now, but refused to let anyone inside.

No more strangers. The last thing he wanted was to receive more bad news about England.

He couldn’t avoid bad news, but he needed time to handle his grief.

Right now, his emotional numbness protected him from hurting.

Mostly. But another blow would shatter him.

A soft knock came from the door. “Lord Wentworth? Hector? It’s me, Maddie.”

For a moment, he simply stared at the door before remembering people waited for him to speak after knocking. “Come in.”

She inched the door inwards and slipped inside, pale and shivering. “How are you?”

It was a simple question, one that people constantly asked each other without being actually interested in the answer.

But to him, the answer wasn’t so simple.

Too much had happened to him in a short time.

He still couldn’t believe he’d left the island or that he was alive.

How could he come to terms with the fact his family was dead when the thought of seeing his mother and brother again had sustained him through his darkest moments?

They were the reason he was alive. He’d been tempted to give up many times.

But they were dead, and he was alive. What nonsense.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“I know.” She shut the door and fiddled with her hands. She hadn’t changed much in eight years aside from regaining her healthy pink complexion and growing more curves. She looked more beautiful than he remembered. “I have no words to express how sorry I am for what my mother said.”

It was done, and while the news had been brutal, he had to know the truth. “Cut…” He cleared his throat, remembering what Dr. Landon had told him about manners. “Would you please finish cutting my beard?”

He had no idea why having his hair and beard trimmed was so important.

But a choking sensation gripped him every time his tangled curls fell over his eyes.

It was like being caught in one of those vines growing on the island.

The first time the long, spiky stems had taken hold of him, he’d panicked.

He hated the feeling of having something wrapped around him.

She stopped fidgeting, surprise showing on her parted lips. “Of course.”

“Was I polite enough?” He didn’t want to be rude to her.

It was amazing how he’d forgotten about etiquette. The rules that had been hammered into his mind by his parents and tutors made no sense now.

“A perfect gentleman.” Her voice shook.

As she gathered what she needed to shave him, she didn’t gaze at him. Had he done something wrong? Hell. He couldn’t tell anymore. Had society always been so complicated?

“I should apologise for having yelled as well.” He wasn’t sorry about his outburst, but he was sorry about having scared her.

“Don’t you apologise.” She balled a hand on her hip. “I perfectly understand your reaction. It’s my mother I struggle to understand. No, you don’t have to apologise. She should.”

Right. So, she wasn’t angry with him. “Why are you upset then?”

“I feel sorry for you.” She placed the new water basin on the nightstand. “And guilty for what happened.”

He didn’t know what to say, so remained silent while she finished getting ready. After a few minutes, she got to work on his beard. He remained still on the stool as Maddie cut the longest portion.

The soft brush of her gentle fingers against the skin of his neck was both stunning and painful.

Her touch was the best remedy for the wave of agony threatening to assault him.

No one had touched him in eight years, and every time she brushed her fingers against his skin, a jolt of sensation went through him.

“What is the worn book you always keep with you?” she asked, focusing on his chin.

“I recorded my days on the island on a register I recovered from the flotsam. I took notes on the plants and animals I saw. Hopefully, it has some scientific value.”

As she worked with the scissors, her fine eyebrows drew together and the tip of her pink tongue stuck out between her lips, starting a turmoil inside him. He lowered his gaze.

A jagged scar crossed the palm of her right hand. Her fingers were slightly skewed with one joint protruding to the side. How much damage had he inflicted upon her? The last time he’d seen her, her hand had been bandaged. He had no idea the glass shard had ruined her hand so badly.

“It’s done.” She straightened, studying his face. “Now the razor. Although I must warn you. I’m not an expert. Are you sure you don’t want me to ask Dr. Landon to do it?”

“I don’t know him, but I trust you.”

Her cheeks flushed the same colour as her lips. “All right. Let me know if I scratch you.” She poured hot water into the basin from a heavy-looking flask.

He didn’t say anything. Although he found people seemed displeased when he remained silent. If he had nothing to add, why bother to speak?

She sat in front of him and applied a wet, hot towel to his face. The smell of soap wafted from it.

“How did it happen?” he asked. “My brother.” He had to force himself to keep his voice steady.

Maddie lowered the towel. “When your ship sank, His Grace financed an expedition to find you.”

“Robert?” He sucked in a breath. Robert had organised an expedition for him. Had he sailed close to the island?

“Yes. He didn’t believe you were dead, despite the fact there was little hope you might be alive.

The wreckage washed over the shores of The Bahamas, and there were witnesses, sailors on another ship, who described how the Observatory had been ripped in two by the waves.

” She paused, making herself busy with brushing off his cut hair from her skirt.

“Unfortunately, your brother contracted a disease while arranging a search party in The Bahamas. Some said it was yellow fever, others war fever. He died in Nassau a few days after his arrival.”

He was glad she paused again because he needed a moment to collect himself.

It would have been just like Robert to search for him.

Hector could easily picture Robert’s determined expression as he’d boarded the ship to sail across the Atlantic.

Only to die. For him. Hector’s throat tightened as the numbness that had shielded him faded and the emotions that had been trapped somewhere in his chest erupted.

He didn’t care about his composure. He let out a sob as tears smarted his eyes.

The only reason why he didn’t let himself cry with abandon was because he needed to hear more.

Maddie touched his hand, and the usual shock of sensation shuddered through his body, sobering him.

He inhaled deeply, tasting his salty tears on his lips. “My mother?”