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“I told her how I was such a fool, how Judith pulled me in so effortlessly, that she’d won. You know what Hallie said? She said Judith didn’t win, how could she when she was dead?”

James said, sipping his brandy, “I’ve never looked at it in exactly that light. Fact is, Jase, she did fool you-fooled the rest of us for that matter, and surely that makes all of us dupes-but I certainly understand how you would feel more like a fool, more like a failure and a loser, than the rest of us. I want to go with you, Father. Hallie needs to be thrashed.”

“More brandy, Jason?”

Jason frowned as he stuck out his snifter to his father. “She didn’t call me a failure or a loser. I tried to explain it to her, but you know Hallie, she’s able to weave in and out of a conversation. She was talking about Judith’s spirit hanging about, about how her spirit must be so pleased that she was still controlling my life. That isn’t true, dammit!”

“Of course it’s not,” Douglas said. “Imagine, a woman dead for five years still controlling someone’s thoughts and actions. It’s absurd.”

“Well, yes, it is. It’s just that I-Oh hell, Father, you could have died. Do you hear me? You could have died! How can I ever forget my role in that?”

“But I didn’t, Jason, you’re the one who could have died.”

“Well I didn’t either, but that’s neither here nor there. Do you know she asked if you’d ever lied to me?”

“I don’t believe I have,” Douglas said. “Hmm. Well, perhaps I did when you were a lad and you wondered why your mother had yelled in the gazebo-”

James would cut his brain out before he’d think about that. He nodded. “Yes, I would lie to Douglas and Everett as well.”

“The point is, you haven’t ever lied to me about anything important, and so I told her. Then she had the cheek to tell me I believed you had lied to me-my own father.”

“Why is that?”

“She said it was obvious I hadn’t believed you when you told me I wasn’t to take the blame, and thus I did believe you’d lied to me.”

“Hmm,” said Douglas. “Fact is, Jason, she’s right. You didn’t believe me. I hate to say it, but Hallie did nail that one.”

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Papa, it’s just that you could have so easily died and so could you, James, and it was all my fault, no one else’s. It hit me between the eyes it was so clear. How could I deny something so obvious? You love me, damn you, and that’s why you-well all right, I didn’t accept your words, I couldn’t because I knew you said them because you loved me.”

Douglas said, “Even though I’d like to clout Hallie, let me be honest here. The fact is, Jason, you just admitted it yourself-you didn’t believe me. Perhaps you simply weren’t able to, but you wounded me, Jason, deeply, I’ll admit it.”

“Still,” James said, “she shouldn’t have said such a cruel thing about a son disbelieving his father, a father he admits never lied to him. I hope you set her straight, Jase.”

“Yes, certainly. About what exactly?”

Douglas said, “That’s all right. Don’t tease yourself any more about it. Truth is, I’ve lived every day for the past five years worrying about you. I can still feel the wet of your blood against my palm. There was so much blood, Jason, and it was you who were bleeding-my son, who was a damned hero. I remember exactly how I felt, how all of us felt, when you were so ill, when we listened to your every breath, praying it wouldn’t be your last. That sort of fear is corrosive, it burns into your gut and your heart.” Douglas paused a moment, then said quietly, “You weren’t the only one to suffer, Jason. Corrie killed two people. It’s a tremendous burden she must carry the rest of her life, even though she would never regret what she did. She still has occasional nightmares. We, all of us, live with the past, Jason, you more than any of us. Perhaps it’s time all of us consigned that wretched time to the ether. It’s time we all let it go.”

“I can’t,” Jason said, then paused. “Hallie said once that the only good she ever saw in remembering a painful event was that it might keep you from doing the same stupid thing again. But it’s so much more than that. Damnation-nightmares? I’m very sorry about that. Poor Corrie, in addition to being a fool, I’m selfish. I didn’t consider anyone except myself. Oh hell.”

James said, “I say thank God for the passage of time. It blurs things, and you begin to realize how very lucky we all are, how very blessed. We all survived. We’re here drinking brandy now, aren’t we?”

“But I was to blame, I-”

Douglas said, “Tomorrow I will ride to Lyon ’s Gate and inform Hallie she isn’t to treat you so badly again, that she is to comfort you, help you endure your lifelong misery. She is to stop being coldhearted.”

Jason said, “It’s not that she’s coldhearted. It’s that what happened-it’s so damned deep inside me that I’ll never be free of it. I accept that. She must accept it too, she must.”

“I will set her straight,” Douglas said. “Trust me, Jason.”

“No, please, Father, don’t say anything to her. I must go now, I’ve kept you too long as it is.”

“One more thing, Jason,” his father said. Jason slowly turned. “Never forget that I love you, that I’ve loved you since you were in your mother’s womb and I splayed my palm over her belly and felt the two of you trying to kick off my hand. When you came yelling your head off into the world, I believed there could be nothing sweeter in life. However, truth be told, at this moment, Jason, I’d like to kick you across the room.”

Jason nearly fell over. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t?” James shook his head at his brother. “You said you left Lyon ’s Gate because Hallie was making fun of you. Do you mean she can’t understand why, after five years, you’re still wanting to drown yourself in guilt?”

“The way you’re saying it doesn’t sound reasonable, James. Surely you must understand that-” He fell silent because he couldn’t find the words to say.

“Yes, we do understand,” his father said. “I think that after what happened five years ago, you desperately wanted to free all of us from your pain. You saw leaving England to be the answer. You thought we’d forget you, perhaps? That when we spoke of your triumphs in Baltimore, we’d not also remember you lying in bed with the physician digging that bloody bullet out of your shoulder, not remember that you nearly died? You are a blockhead, Jason.”

“But I was the one who-”

Douglas said, “It has always amazed me how you so eagerly gave yourself all the credit for bringing about that particular tragedy. You were nothing more than a young man who held honor dear, who loved his family, who faced evil and didn’t recognize it. And why should you? None of us had ever before been thrown into evil such as those three offered up. You ran away, Jason. I wish you had not, it nearly broke your brother, leaving him to deal with a new wife who’d had to kill two people, and every day face a mother and a father who would gladly have given their own lives for yours.

“And you survived, Jason. I believe you’ve survived fairly well. And now you have a wife who, if I’m not mistaken, would also give her life for you. Go home, Jason. Go face yourself, and the past, and think about your present and future. Both look remarkably fine to me. Oh yes, I got a letter from James Wyndham. He and his family will be here in three weeks and they’re bringing you a thoroughbred you trained yourself for a wedding present.”

“Which one?”

“I believe James Wyndham said his name is Eclipse, after our own very famous Eclipse.”

Jason said absently, “Eclipse never lost a race. He was amazing. Stubbs painted him.”