Kresley Cole - [MacCarrick Brothers 03] (35 page)

Court bit out, “She sent me away. Why would they send me away?”

Hugh responded, “Again, I canna imagine.” To Ethan, he said, “Annalía’s been in labor for about ten hours now. You’re just in time to help me hold Court and keep him out of the way.”

“Annalía’s
in labor
,” Ethan said, stunned. He’d never been anywhere near a birth before.

Court swung his frenzied gaze on Ethan. “Doona even start with me, Ethan. That baby is mine. I
know
her and I
feel
this. Any comment to the contrary, and I’ll kill you.”

Ethan put his palms up. “I’m no’ making any comment about anything.”

Court looked confused. “You’re no’ going to berate me or throw that bloody book at me?”

“No, I just…I wish you well.”

Now Hugh frowned, too. “Fiona’s here,” Hugh said to Ethan. “She wants to talk to you.”

“She’s here? In my house?”

“Aye, she’s—”

A scream louder than the rest sounded, and the blood left Court’s face. He barreled toward the front door, but Hugh collared him and hauled him back, cursing and swinging. “A hand here, Ethan?”

“Oh, aye. Calm yourself, Court,” Ethan said, helping to drag him back outside. “Women do this all the time.”

Court grated, “If I hear that bullshite another bloody time…”

“This is killing him,” Hugh explained. “He never wanted Annalía to have a baby.”

“Why no’?” Ethan asked, baffled. That’s what men always wanted. Wasn’t it? He’d tried to get one on Maddy with a feverish intensity.

“He dinna want to risk her. And he dinna want to share her. If he’d known he could get her with child, he’d have tried no’ to.”

“They made me leave,” Court said again, his tone miserable.

“How about helping me distract him?” Hugh muttered.

“How?” At Hugh’s shrug, Ethan said, “Do you have, uh, a name prepared, then?”

Absently, eyes still on the door, Court said as if reciting, “If it’s a boy, we have to name him Aleix, after Anna’s brother, Aleixandre. Because I put him in jail and stole his house and all that. If it’s a lass, we’re naming her after Fiona.”

Naming his daughter after their mother.
Has everyone lost their bloody minds?

“Why have the screams stopped?” Court demanded, struggling to wrench free of them.

“I’ll go check,” Hugh said. “Keep him down here.” He crossed to the stairs. A few moments later, he called down, “They’re ready for Court.”

Court stormed past Ethan and bounded up the stairs. Ethan hurried to follow. Fiona was there at the entrance to Court’s rooms. “You’re lucky she’s ready this time, Courtland. You have a son. A beautiful boy.” She glanced past Court. “Hello, Ethan. Glad the letters got to you in time.”

He scowled, uncomfortable with this situation on so many levels. “I dinna get any bloody letters.”

“Language, Ethan!” Fiona snapped.

“I have no’ spoken to you in a dozen years,” Ethan began, tone seething, “and you think you can scold me like that in my own home?”

“Aye,” she said easily. “Because I’m still your mother.”

Court stormed in and went straight for the bed. When Hugh entered to stand near Jane, Ethan entered as well, struggling to remain outwardly calm.
Jane
was here?

“Jane,” Ethan said with a cool nod.

“Ethan,” she replied, then added, “excellent work there with Grey. You really slowed him down for me to kill him.”

Ethan raised his brows at her nerve.
She’s friends with Maddy
, he told himself, biting back a scathing retort.

“
Sìne
,” Hugh said warningly, using the Gaelic form of Jane. In turn, she slipped her hand in his and cast him a sunny smile; grave, stony Hugh was obviously helpless not to be charmed by it.

Court dropped to his knees beside the bed, taking Annalía’s hand. “
Mo chridhe
, vow tae me that you’ll never want another. We canna do this, no’ ever again.”

She gave him a drowsy smile. “I know this was hard on you. Oh, Courtland, what has happened to your hands? You poor thing…”

If Court could get a babe on Annalía, why had Ethan failed with Maddy? A quick flare of panic—what if Ethan
had
succeeded? Maddy was smaller than Annalía, who looked like she’d barely gotten through this.

Fiona said, “Courtland, do you no’ want to see your son?”

Court scowled up at her, having no interest in the boy. Instead, he put his face against Annalía’s neck. Poor bastard couldn’t seem to get close enough to her. “Can I pick her up?” Court asked.

Jane said firmly, “No, Court. Not yet. She needs to rest.”

After another minute of sneaking her closer to him, Court turned back to them. “I’ll be gentle with her.”

“No, Court!” Fiona and Jane said at the same time.

Fiona added, “But you can pick up Aleix.”

Ethan watched in amazement. Court hadn’t even glanced at the babe.

“Since he is no’ interested for now”—Fiona brought the infant to Hugh and Ethan—“perhaps you’d like to meet your nephew.”

Hugh muttered, “Never touched a baby.”

“Never?” Jane asked with a light laugh. Ethan said nothing, though he hadn’t either.

Ethan was beyond cynical, yet he took one look at that boy and knew he was a MacCarrick. Felt it down to his bones.

The curse was proven utterly wrong—but even with that shadow dissipating from his life, Ethan still had another. The secret that weighed on him constantly….

“When I sleep,” Annalía said then, smiling sleepily up at Court, “you must look out for Aleix for me.” When he finally nodded, she dozed off.

Anticipating his panic, Fiona said, “Court, she’s been awake and in labor for hours. Let her have some peace and quiet.” He began to protest, but she spoke over him. “You want what is best for her. Sleep is what she needs. She’s been more worried about you downstairs than for herself. Now, take your brothers and your bairn outside for a bit.” When Fiona tried to hand over Aleix, showing Court the correct way to hold a babe, he went wild-eyed with panic, but eventually took his son with an audible swallow. “There, that’s perfect,” Fiona said. “Now, keep your hand behind his head….”

Five minutes later, when the three brothers were outside the closed door, Hugh scratched his head. “I might be mistaken, but I think they just shooed us out, leaving
us
alone with a baby.”

Ethan nodded, about to rail at the wrongness of this, but he saw Court frowning down at his son. “He’s a braw lad, Court,” Ethan said. “You should be proud.”

“It will be no time at all before you’re teaching your boy to ride and fish,” Hugh added.

The babe was already flailing his tiny fists—definitely a MacCarrick.

“
My boy,
” Court said. “Ach, that sounds odd.”

Hugh chuckled. “About as odd as I felt saying ‘my wife.’” To Ethan, he said, “When are you going to do something life-changing?”

“Maybe sooner than you think,” he answered.

Hugh raised an eyebrow. Court had no reaction, having become completely fascinated with his son.

When the bairn made a movement that approximated grasping Court’s finger, Court jerked his head up, his expression astonished. “Did you no’ see that?” Turning to amble around the room, Court murmured to himself, “
My lad’s bloody brilliant
.”

“I’m told this gets worse as the child ages,” Hugh said dryly.

“Indeed.”

“So, tell me what’s happened in the last few months,” Hugh said. “Jane and Claudia both wrote to Madeleine Van Rowen at an address in Paris, but the letters were returned. I thought you might have had something to do with that.” Hugh seemed to be bracing himself for Ethan’s answer.

“Aye, I did. And she’s no longer a Van Rowen.”

Grinning widely, Hugh slapped him on the back. “Ach, you doona know how uneasy I’ve been about this. But now…I can only say that I’m proud of you, brother.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows. Hugh had never said anything of the sort before. And the approval wasn’t
un
pleasant.

“She still accepted you after you explained everything?”

“I dinna quite”—Ethan ran his hand over the back of his neck—“tell her…everything. She does no’ need to know it,” he added defensively.

Hugh’s face fell, and he cast him a pitying expression. “Ethan, you best hope you married yourself a forgiving woman.”

Forty-two

S
harp pops of gunfire, screams, and the sound of breaking glass.

Maddy sighed.
Ah, home sweet home….

Perhaps running back to La Marais had been a
bit
precipitous. After half a year away, she simply hadn’t recalled it being this bad.

When she’d arrived earlier this morning, she, Corrine, and Bea had adjourned to Maddy’s balcony for tea once more. That, at least, was welcome—she’d missed the companionship.

After Maddy explained everything that had happened with Ethan, Corrine promptly demanded, “Well, what did he say when you confronted him?”

“I…I was so upset,” Maddy answered, flushing under their scrutiny. “And I didn’t need to hear his excuses. What I do know as fact is damning enough—”

Corrine looked disappointed in her. “So you didn’t even wait to learn his side of the story?”

Maddy stared at her tea cup and mumbled, “No. But he lies all the time anyway. I can’t trust a single word out of his mouth.”

“I’ve seen it before,” Corrine said sadly. “Sometimes, it’s as if people
want
to get back to La Marais.”

Bea nodded sagely. “
C’est vrai.
”

“I did
not
want to come back here!” Since returning, Maddy found La Marais harder and filthier than she’d ever remembered. “But I’m tired of being toyed with and deceived. And didn’t I just tell you that Ethan might have slept with my own mother?” She felt a wave of nausea at the idea. “I came back for you two. So we could start fresh somewhere else. Maybe open that shop like we always talked about. I have enough money now for all three of us.”

“
De mal en pire
, Maddy,” Corrine said with a shrug. “My situation here isn’t that bad.”

“Bea, what about you?” Maddy asked. “Don’t you want to be a dress model?”

“Oh, Maddée, can we talk about this later?” Bea said, rubbing her calves with a wince. “My legs and back are aching.”

“We can live somewhere without stairs,” Maddy said, striving for a cheerful demeanor.

Bea gave her a smile, but she appeared exhausted. “I think I just want to nap for a few hours. Then we’ll talk.”

“Of course, Bea. Get some sleep,” Maddy said, hugging her.

Before she left, Bea peeked back out the window. “I know it’s selfish, but no matter what, I am happy to see you, Maddée,” she said, then turned toward her apartment.

But Corrine wasn’t as pleased to see Maddy back. “I know you’ve learned the hard way that there are times to stay and fight, and there are times to run. And the difference can be a very fine line.” She sighed. “But this time, I think you should have stood your ground with the Scot.”

Maddy flushed uncomfortably, deciding this would probably not be the best time to reveal that she was likely carrying the Scot’s babe….

The next morning, Maddy rose from her cold bed, struggling to muster the energy to rise and dress.

During the last few months with Ethan, she’d thought she had gotten past the tragedies in her life, believing she’d been adapting well. But discovering what he’d done—and knowing who was specifically to blame—made her reevaluate everything. Reviewing the litany of disappointment and heartbreak in one sitting made her wonder how she’d survived.

How many times could she pick herself up and dust off her skirts?

She’d just finished pinning up her hair when a nearby church’s bells began to toll. She frowned and climbed out onto her balcony. Chat Noir deigned to give her a visit, and she picked him up, hugging him close. She already missed her kitten at Carillon.

Suddenly, the cat hissed. “What is it,
chaton
?” With another hiss, he scrambled to get down. “Yes, yes, a minute—”

Scratching down her arms, drawing blood, he leapt away just as tolling began to sound in succession, building a steady crescendo all over the city.

When even the great bells of Notre Dame rang out, Maddy swallowed. There was no Mass right now. She remembered the last time they’d done this, and alarm filled her. She scrambled back inside, then rushed from her apartment. She banged on Corrine’s door, then Bea’s. No answer came from either.

People on the street would know where they were…what was happening…. Battling panic, Maddy dashed down the stairs, her breathing loud in the tight stairway.

Down four flights, then five—

The toe of her boot stabbed into something thick. With a cry, she pitched forward, flailing her arms, collapsing onto something solid but soft—something moist.

When her confusion cleared, she realized she’d landed on a body, sprawled dead in the darkness.

A single circular break in the bedroom mirror.

Ethan had known she had left him as soon as he’d seen it, even before he’d been able to question Sorcha. Somehow Maddy had found out the truth, and she’d thrown her ring at the mirror. Yet ever-practical Maddy hadn’t left it behind.

The fact that she’d collected it—and every piece of jewelry—disheartened him more than anything. It meant she was preparing to stay away.

All Sorcha had been able to tell him was that Maddy had received some letter and she’d been pale as snow. She’d packed and left in a daze, absently asking Sorcha to take care of her cat until she could send for him.

Remembering Maddy’s plan to visit Claudia when he’d refused to marry her, Ethan raced for London like hell was at his heels. Reaching Quin’s home at last, Ethan stormed into his study. “Where’s Maddy?”

Quin’s jaw slackened. “My God, what’s happened to you? You look like hell.”

“Where is she?” Ethan snapped.

“Just like I predicted,” Quin said smugly. “Not knowing up from down anymore. And why should I tell you where she is?”