The Samurai That I Loved

第46章

With hastened steps, Yoru made his way down the stairs with tightly-fisted hands, opening and closing them to relieve the perpetual shakiness that seemed to plague his entire body to no end. The effort proved pointless as his mind spun around his encounter with Eliza in mad circles of insanity. What had compelled him to go after her? Why on earth would he prove himself to be so abhorrently weak in front of her?!

"Do you love him?" He had asked...

"Kuso!" He hissed in Japanese beneath his breath while running one hand through his disheveled, black pony-tail. What an incredibly ridiculous question! What kind of answer did he expect? She was a married woman! What was he even thinking?! She was not his!...And she never would be.

With a bitter recollection, her words from ten years ago barreled into his mind with the same stinging burn it had left the first time.

"You despicable fool."

His face contorted into anguish for a fleeting moment before he quickly centered himself and fixed his expression into one of complacency. Striding past the study, Radford's voice halted him from the open doorway with a loud,

"Ah, there you are, Yoru! We're in here, chap! Come have a spot of brandy, it's my finest yet."

Yoru turned to face Hopkins and Radford both inside the study as he entered with a brutal cacophony of emotions. Due to the rampant bitterness, anguish and heartache still flooding through his heart, threatening to drown him, he found even the simple act of facing Eliza's husband to be an impossible endeavor.

The man shoved a crystal glass filled with golden-hued alcohol in his hand while talking away incessantly about the trade in England. Yoru's fingers subconsciously gripped the glass while staring transfixed on the nearby glowing embers of the flames inside the fireplace.

All he could see, all he could imagine was Eliza's hair...spilling over his fingertips, curling and flicking down her back in dampened perspiration. The flames crackled and twisted high into the air for just a moment. Yoru imagined grabbing a fistful of that luscious hair, twisting and wrapping it around his knuckles before yanking it back and pressing his lips to it.

His breathing accelerated. The conversation between Radford and Hopkins became a distant, annoying sound he could hardly concentrate on. His heart was hammering and his eyes were smoldering into the burning embers with a darkened intensity.

Eliza-chan...Eliza-chan...Eliza.

My love...my heart...

"I hate you, you despicable fool!"

All at once, the crystal glass shattered within Yoru's grasp with a loud crunch, slicing through his skin and leaving a trail of blood dripping from his fingers. Hopkins and Radford both froze mid-conversation, jerking their heads towards him with mirrored expressions of stunned alarm.

Radford was the first to react, immediately moving towards him while extracting a handkerchief from his coat lapel.

"Good lord, old boy, careful there! I suppose I ought to have warned you how delicate the ancient crystalware is! Well no harm done, bah-hah." He chortled as he thrust the handkerchief into Yoru's hand while the butler approached, quickly taking care of the broken glass.

Hopkins stood back, remaining with his arms crossed over his chest and one hip perched against Radford's desk. His wary gaze prompted Yoru to look over at him. While Radford continued to chatter away, Hopkins discreetly flicked his head to the door.

Yoru turned back to Radford and made his best effort to smile at the man as he said quietly, "My apologies, My Lord. If you'll excuse us, the hour is getting late and there is still much to settle in London."