The utterance of those sacred words had Ronan gripping Adam tighter. More like a lover and less like a friend. I missed you. No one else had said that to him. Even if they had, Ronan wouldn't have believed them. Declan hadn't missed him; Ronan was simply an annoyance, a smear on the family name. Almost all the old maids and servants were gone, replaced by younger and more eager to please ladies that all doted on Declan. Mother still was in her coma, a vision of beauty even wasting away for years.

"I missed you too," he murmured, but only when he thought Adam was asleep. So close to the other man, Ronan couldn't truly rest. Dozing was fine. Sleep had never come easy to him, anyway. It was better to study the way Adam's eyelashes curved gently against his cheek, to feel his chest rise and fall with easy breaths.

How could he be so fucking stupid, leaving Adam here with Declan as head of the house? But what else could he have done? Ronan had plunged head first into a terrible life style. Drinking every night, brawls almost as much. Coming back to his room bloodied and angry, depressed, hating almost everything. And then his fooling around with Kavinsky, getting into even more trouble because the other man reeked of it. Stolen horses and so much more. Not that Ronan ever did such things, but Kavinsky loved to tell him about it while draping an arm across his shoulders, speaking right up against his ear.

They stayed that way for two hours. Anything more and the maids would surely report their obvious absence. No breakfast or tea by noon? Declan might consider Ronan that lazy and hedonistic, but he would surely blame Adam for not kicking him in the ass.

So, leaning over Adam, Ronan brushed his hair back from his face.

"Hey. Feeling better?"