Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes) (44 page)

“Another habit learned from our infamous stepfather?”
Kieran’s amusement at her unladylike expletive only made Elizabeth feel more
wretched.

“Yes.” She breathed, angry with herself. “It seems a hard
knock on the head gives one difficulties controlling one’s speech, particularly
when vexed. Well, let’s get on with this, shall we? Before my beloved dragon
returns from inspecting the cane fields.”

Elizabeth summoned Grandfather and Michael to the library.
She sat on the chaise, her hands clasped tightly on her lap, her belly roiling
with serpents. Part of her wished she hadn’t decided to do this behind
Donovan’s back, but if she waited until he deemed it the proper time she’d be
in her dotage before her brothers were introduced and Kieran was restored to
the family.

Kieran was hidden behind an open bookcase. He could hear
them and peer at them from between the shelves. Grandfather was sitting in the
chair near the marble fireplace, facing her chaise. His autocratic nature was
difficult to deal with in the best of times, and at this moment she hadn’t the
patience to deal with Grandfather’s arrogance.

Michael sat beside Elizabeth on the chaise. He was his usual
cheerful self, and his presence was a boon. He was actually smirking, quite
pleased with himself over something.

Now that the moment was upon her, Elizabeth faltered. She
clasped and re-clasped her hands, smoothed her skirt, adjusted her hair, and
released heavy breaths as she mulled over the proper opening for such an
important announcement.

“So then,” Michael put his hand over her fidgeting ones to
calm them. “Your butler said you had something to tell us, in private. Out with
it, when am I going to become an uncle?”

Elizabeth turned to gape her brother, completely aghast by
his statement. Of all the things to conclude from a simple summons?

“Michael.” Grandfather hissed. “We do not speak of delicate
matters with the ladies.”

“Tosh!” Michael responded, squeezing her hand and grinning.
“This is my sister.”

“I’m not breeding.” Elizabeth stammered, certain her face
was as pink as the hibiscus flowers Donovan had given her yesterday.

“Why else would you be summoning us to your private parlor
for a family chat?” Michael countered, appearing crestfallen by her news.

“Manners, young man.” Grandfather stomped his cane on the
floor. “You do not speak over a lady in her own drawing room. Do go on, my Dear
Elizabeth.”

My Dear Elizabeth? Touched by this rare display of tenderness,
Elizabeth spoke the words that had previously become tangled in her throat.

“I called you here because I have recently met someone who
was lost to this family for many years, and through my marriage to Donovan, he
has been reclaimed. Kieran, our elder brother,” She took Michael’s hand. “And
your eldest grandson,” She looked to Grandfather, “Is still alive. He lives
here, in the port city of Basseterre. Kieran?” She glanced at her brother’s
outline behind the books. “Come. Join us.”

“I say--“ Grandfather began, and then seemed to choke on his
words. He coughed, and reached up with white, gnarled fingers to loosen his
cravat. “This is--this is highly irregular.”

Kieran slowly walked round the shelving with his hands
behind his back. He stood before them, silent, uncertain. He was very handsome
in his best linen shirt tied at the neck with a gentleman’s cravat. Elizabeth
suggested the cravat, and had lent him one of Donovan’s as he did not own one.
He wore newly purchased buff colored breeches and a slate blue linen vest which
complimented his tousled auburn hair and deep turquoise blue eyes.

Elizabeth rose and quickly went to him. She snaked her arm
through his elbow, and stood before their imposing elder. “Kieran and I met two
weeks ago. Donovan met Kieran some time before that. I was waiting for the
proper time to intro-“

“Proper?” Grandfather spat the word as if it were phlegm.
“Don’t speak to me of proper, young lady. Your husband should be presenting
this news to me--not some thin slip of a girl barely out of short
dresses--there are formalities to be adhered to--his identity verified--”

Good Lord! She was presenting him with his lost grandson and
he would go on about etiquette and formalities and legal nonesuch?

“Enough.” She was determined not to let James Wentworth’s
arrogance and staunch adherence to formality ruin this reunion. Her mother
always quoted an endless litany of rules to her about etiquette and societal
expectations. Now she knew where it all came from. Elizabeth was at once thankful
for Donovan’s relaxed social expectations as an American. “Donovan has verified
everything Kieran has told us, Grandfather, so do not presume for a moment to
be too high in the instep to welcome a member of our family back into the
fold.”

Kieran stiffened beside her. Grandfather did likewise. The
old man was furiously chewing his upper lip, as if he were trying very hard not
to say that no one addressed him thus.

There was a rustling to their left as they stood arm in arm.
Michael rose and came to stand before them. Sweet Michael, he looked as if he
might cry. His big, soulful blue eyes, so much like mama’s, were glazed with
moisture. “Liz,” he croaked. “Please, don’t take offense. You’re a diamond as
sisters go, but I’ve always longed for a brother.”

Even now, Michael could joke, with tears brimming in his
eyes.

“You are a brat.” She teased, thankful for Michael’s innate
ability to find the humor in any situation. “Of all the times I saved your
bum!”

“Yes, but Liz, you were just a girl. Someone should have
been saving yours.”

Elizabeth opened her free arm to her little brother. Michael
came and wrapped his arm about her. “She’s a fright when she gets mad.” He told
Kieran, grinning. “When I was ten, the neighbor boys were bullying me. I came
home once with a bloodied nose, and didn’t my sister go marching out the back
kitchen door to the curb, grabs the biggest bully by the collar, and says
‘leave my brother alone or I’ll kill you.’ Danny and his chums never bothered
me again. They were that scared of her, sir.”

“I doubt it was fear that kept him from bothering you,
Michael.” Elizabeth mused, surprised by the forgotten memory surfacing. “After
that, he professed to be in love with me.”

Kieran was laughing and smiling. He released Elizabeth and
offered his hand to Michael. “Hello Michael, I’m pleased to make your
acquaintance.”

As the brothers shook hands Elizabeth went to kneel at her
grandfather’s side. His face was very grey. “Grandfather, are you well? Should
I ring for a footman?”

“No, dear child. This is most irregular, yet better than I
could have ever hoped.”

 After everyone sat down, Kieran related to them how he had
been sold on the docks by his stepfather and told his mother had died the night
before. Kieran and Michael were very different. Kieran was serious and
thoughtful where Michael was cheerful and lighthearted. Kieran answered
questions about his life in the Indies, about Mr. Barnaby purchasing his
indenture and treating him as a son. He was to inherit the apothecary shop, he
told them with pride.

“And of what consequence is that to me?” Grandfather came
alive with indignation. “You have no need to boast of being the sole proprietor
of an apothecary shop, young man.”

Kieran was startled by Grandfather’s outburst. He looked at
Elizabeth with uncertainty. She rolled her eyes heavenward. She did warn her
brother that their grandfather held a rather exalted view of his station and of
the Aristocracy.

As the trio remained silent before his haughty outburst, the
earl went on to explain. “You’ll be heir to my title and to my estate in
England very shortly. In fact, if his lordship has already taken pains to
verify your identity, I’ll have the count’s solicitor draw up papers
immediately to make it official. There will be no more working as bondsman for
you. ”

 No one said a word. Elizabeth looked to Michael, her heart
going out to him. He was being told with no delicacy or concern for his
feelings that he was being replaced as heir.

 As usual, Michael put on a bold front. “The eldest always
inherits the title. It’s the English way. Now I can go to France and study
art.”

 “No, you won’t.” Kieran put in. “Most of Europe is at war
with France, or will be soon.”

 “Oh, I like that.” Michael made a face. “Half an hour in
and already bossing me about.”

At that moment, Donovan entered the library. He took one
look at the quartet gathered near the fireplace and his hands flew to his hips
in his typical commanding stance. “What is this?” His question was directed to
Elizabeth. “I can’t leave you alone for an hour? We decided to wait until
things settled a bit here before bringing Kieran out.”

“You decided. I wanted my brothers to meet. So I took care
of it.”

The silence from the three other men in the room was
oppressive. They all seemed to take a fastidious interest in the furnishings as
they waited for the lord of the manor to scold his lady.

Elizabeth did not flinch. She glared at Donovan with no
apologies.

Donovan sighed, his exasperation evident as he held her
defiant gaze. “You should have listened to me, Elizabeth. Now, if you will all
leave us, I wish to have a few words with Lord Greystowe.”

Kieran and Michael rose. They looked askance at Elizabeth,
then Grandfather. When neither interceded, they shuffled out of the room
without daring to look at Donovan.

“Elizabeth.” Donovan insisted. “You will respect your
grandfather’s wish for privacy.”

She looked to Grandfather, hoping he’d ask her to stay, but
she knew he would not. He would never interfere in a matter of another man’s
domestic disputes. She wanted to say something. She wanted to lash out at
Donovan for being so high handed in front of her grandfather. Wasn’t it just
like him, to come into the room and transform a perfectly sunny moment into
darkness, suspicion and gloom? This was her family. Yet, he was dismissing her
as if she were an impudent child, reinforcing Grandfather’s arrogant beliefs
and humiliating her.

She turned to leave before she said something she would
regret later.

As she reached the door, Donovan’s hand circled her wrist.
“Lizzie, wait.” His voice was no longer commanding. “I asked you to leave
because I need to examine him, privately.” He turned her about to face him.
“I’m not angry with you.”

“What a relief!” Elizabeth quipped. “I can’t say the same.
This is my family, Donovan. My brothers. You’ve no right to interfere.”

Donovan looked down at the floor and then away, grimacing.
He glanced over at the man in the chair by the fireplace before turning his
gaze back to Elizabeth. He cupped her cheek with his big hand. “I’m not angry
with you for defying me by bringing Kieran here and presenting him to your
grandfather without preparing the old man for the shock of it first. I
understand, believe me, I do.”

He paused, searching her eyes desperately before adding,
“But please understand this; your grandfather is dying.”

Chapter
Thirty Eight

“I don’t think he meant it would be today, Liz.” Michael
assured her as the trio gathered in the sunny yellow salon at the front of the
house. “Think of Old Sheila. We always said she’d never survive another winter,
and yet survive she did, year after year, if you recall.”

Elizabeth didn’t remember. She didn’t recall many things
Michael nattered on about. She meandered about the confines of the large salon,
her arms about herself. She should have known. Why hadn’t she sensed it when
she touched Grandfather? She touched him many times in the past week and she
had no idea. She turned to Kieran. “Did you sense it?”

“No, but I did not touch him. Even so,” Kieran shrugged, and
looked askance at Michael before continuing. “It doesn’t work with everyone,
particularly blood kin.”

Elizabeth tilted her head, considering his words. “What
about spouses?” She didn’t understand why she could not read Donovan as she
could others.

“That, too. I’ve heard.” He replied, eyeing her and then
their brother, clearly uncomfortable discussing their gift. “It’s a form of
protection for the seer.” He stepped casually toward Elizabeth where she stood
near the window. “Imagine being able to know everything your husband thinks and
feels every time you touch him. It would be overwhelming. It’s the same with
children and other blood kin. A safety mechanism within the gift.” He touched
her arm, and she felt the familiar tingling as he did so. She felt his anxiety,
his uncertainty. “You and I are different. Magnets.” He said emphatically,
giving her a knowing smile.

 “Care to explain? Magnets?” Michael asked with a wave of
his hand, watching them from across the room. “I know, I’m not an O’Flaherty,
but I am your brother, too, Liz.”

Elizabeth didn’t need the gift of the seer to tell her
Michael was feeling left out and more than a little jealous of Kieran’s
closeness. “Do you recall Sheila claiming she could see and sense things about
people, hidden things?”

Michael nodded. “Scared me to the devil when I was little,
all that mystical mumbo jumbo and talk of seeing spirits everywhere.”

“It’s hereditary.” Elizabeth informed him with impatience.
“Sheila died and now I have her gift, as does he.” She gestured to Kieran.
“We’re cursed with being able to see other people’s secrets, their desires,
their sins, all their flaws--“

A flush of raw, pent up fury washed over her. She moved to
the doorway and stood with her back to her brothers for a moment, trying to contain
the emotions flooding her. She turned to them. “It’s a damned shamed it doesn’t
work with the people we actually care about!”

*******

Donovan found Elizabeth hours later. He searched everywhere
in the house, to no avail. As he gazed out at the gardens from the second floor
window he had an idea of where she might have gone.