Delia turned, the key still in her hand, her back pressed against the cold, hard wood of the door. "What?" The word came out as a strangled whisper, lost in the cool night air.
George stepped closer, his face a mask of grave concern, his voice low and urgent. "He set off a wild horse against his own brother, Delia. It was during a hunt years ago. They were both young, competing for their father's praise. Eric… he wanted to win so badly. The horse went wild, it threw his brother, Philip, and the accident… it made his brother disabled. He caused Philip to limp for the rest of his life."
The story was horrifying, a dark and ugly tale that seemed impossible to associate with the man who had so gently cared for her. Delia was too shocked to speak, her mind reeling, trying to process the terrible accusation.
