She had a point. Maybe with the lamp turned low, she wouldn’t see the sweat on his brow or the panic in his eyes. He tugged off his boots, cravat, and waistcoat, then joined her on top of the soft feather mattress. She slipped under the covers, and he stayed on top—just so there wouldn’t be any accidental contact.

Once they’d both settled their heads on their pillows, he inhaled deeply.

And prepared to unleash the demons.

Chapter 19

Reese’s heart pounded, echoing in his chest like artillery fire. Most days, he spent a considerable amount of energy trying to avoid thinking about his time on the front lines—and specifically his last week there.

But now Sophie was lying beside him, asking him to remember those days. To walk through those minefields and relive the horror so that she could understand. For her, he was willing to subject himself to the pain and misery. She deserved to know how damaged he was, how broken. Even if exposing the wounds left him bloody and raw.

Though the bedchamber was fairly dark, Sophie’s eyes glowed encouragingly. He focused on her like a sailor spying a lighthouse through a storm.

“It feels like another lifetime,” he began, “but it was only a few months ago. I was on the front lines in Portugal, when a messenger arrived at our encampment—with an urgent message for me.” The memory, vivid and raw, made him shudder involuntarily.

“Before I read the letter, I think I knew what it would say. The dread in my bones was so cold, so heavy, I had to force myself to break the seal on the letter. When I did, the nightmare was unleashed. Edmund was dead.”

“Oh, Reese,” Sophie said, her throat thick with empathy. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful—especially when you were so far from home.”

“I couldn’t help but think that I should have been here with him. That maybe I would have been able to prevent it.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You cannot blame yourself, Reese. Not even a little bit. What happened to your brother was a tragic accident—and accidents, by their very nature, are unpredictable.”

“He was the one person I’d always been able to rely on,” he said. “My mother took ill when I was a child, and after she died, my father turned angry and cruel. Edmund was the one who always looked out for me. He devoted much of his life to raising me and taking care of the estate.”

“No wonder you were so close,” she said softly.

Reese let out a shaky breath. “Do you want to know the ironic thing? Edmund begged me not to purchase a commission in the army. He said that it was too dangerous. That he couldn’t bear the thought that I might not come home.”