“School must have been a nightmare for all of you.”
“Richard made a great show of caring for nothing, which lent him cachet with the brutes. Gossip about his parentage shadowed Cam but, his father’s son or not, he was heir to a dukedom so people were less eager to offend him than a mere peasant like me. He was only twelve then, but he was damned ducal ordering those mongrels away.”
“I’m surprised you stayed conscious.” She flinched to imagine the scene, shouting boys, fists thudding into flesh, blood. Was Jonas screaming? He was only a child and terrified for his life through agonizing pain.
His grip tightened around her waist. “I wasn’t for long.”
Still something puzzled her. “Why didn’t you and the other boys stay friends?”
His expression hardened. “That was hardly a shining moment for me. I doubt any of us wanted to be reminded of it, even if my abasement was etched on my face forever.”
Again she’d been blind. Shame lay at the basis of so many of Jonas’s actions. Shame made him stand alone against the world. Shame made him reject any hand of friendship. He’d interpret kindness or goodwill as a sign of condescension. However illogical it was, she understood why he considered his scars relics of humiliating defeat at his cousin’s hands. Jonas’s pride had helped him survive in a hostile world but it hadn’t made life easier for him. “Even your father abandoned you.”
She felt him stiffen. More shame. She should have realized long ago that at least some of his defensiveness stemmed from humiliations too painful to be borne. “How do you know that?”
“I wheedled it out of Mrs. Bevan.”
He sighed. “My father was a broken man. He never got over losing my mother and when the marriage was declared invalid, his spirit shriveled to nothing. He loved me, but scholarly research filled his life. After he took me to Venice, a colleague discovered a Roman encampment in Wallachia. He left me with our staff there to see if the find supported his pet theories.”
Yet again she recognized Jonas’s reasons for mistrusting personal relations. “That’s terrible.”
Jonas’s careless response didn’t convince. “He wasn’t likely to hover by my bedside and at least he stayed until I wasn’t likely to die.”
Her stomach churned with anger. “Very generous.”
“You didn’t know him.” Jonas’s voice warmed. “He was a marvelous man, clever, physically fearless, far-thinking. He taught me to stand on my own two feet. That was a lesson I needed to learn.”
It was yet another sign of his generosity of heart that he’d continued to idolize his father, who sounded to her like a fatally selfish man. “I didn’t hear that William was expelled.”
“He wasn’t. He was the future Viscount Hillbrook when all was said and done. And boys will be boys.”
Sidonie flinched at Jonas’s cynical tone. Although who could fault his anger? He’d found no help from those charged with his care.
Jonas was still speaking. “My cousin was caned and sent home for the term. As far as I know, he was accepted back into school the next year under promise of good behavior.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Yes, it is, rather.” His gaze was lightless as his inner vision dwelled upon events so long ago. “The worst of it is he showed no jot of remorse. He laughed as he sliced my face, joked with his loutish chums about his artful carving.”
Another shudder ran under Sidonie’s skin. She could so easily picture William’s enjoyment as he disfigured the cousin who excelled him in every way except birth. Jonas spoke so prosaically, but she couldn’t help picturing the gory details of his ordeal. He’d been a child. An innocent.
Inhaling on a sob, she kissed his scars. He trembled but didn’t withdraw. Tears burned her eyes but she blinked them away. If she cried, he’d think she pitied him and he’d abhor that. She didn’t pity him. She admired him more than she’d ever admired anybody.
“I’m glad you didn’t die.” She cursed the inadequacy of words.
He turned his face until his lips met hers. “Right now, bella, so am I.”
“I hate that you went through this. I hate it.” Outrage vibrated in her voice. She couldn’t banish the image of William crowing in triumph over his fallen cousin.
Jonas smoothed her hair away from her face with a tenderness that seared her heart. “I hate that William won.”
She grabbed his wrist hard. “You were a child fighting odds you couldn’t hope to match. You bear no blame. It’s all William. And the cowardly dogs who held you down.” Her tone lowered to throbbing sincerity. “I’m glad you’ve beaten him at everything since. I’m glad your success makes him feel half a man. Because that’s what he is. He’s less than half a man. He’s no man at all.”
This time his smile wasn’t as strained. “So fierce, tesoro.”
She recoiled, but his arms stopped her getting far. “Don’t mock me.”
He sounded sheepish. “I’m actually taken aback that you’re so firmly on my side.”