Susan Carroll (45 page)

Gilly stroked his fingers along her temple.
"If it is any comfort at all to you, Fae, I do believe James loves
you. I watched him through the night. He even speaks your name in
his sleep."

Gilly flinched at the memory. "I hope to
never hear such cries of despair again, not even after I descend
into hell-which I likely will, someday."

"I realize he loves me, Gilly," she said
wearily. "But his hatred is stronger. Perhaps it is as well our
elopement was thwarted. I can see now I was making a bitter
mistake."

"What a blasted tangle." Gilly rubbed the
back of his neck."But perhaps there is yet some way that you and
James can mend-"

“No.” She shook her head. "Whatever happens,
I will stay and take care of my grandfather. I owe him that much.
He is the one who needs me the most."

Gilly looked as though he did not agree with
her, but he kept his lips sealed. Phaedra left him, tiptoeing
across the hall to slip softly into James's room. Gilly was right.
James's color was improved, and he was sound asleep. But she would
never have described it as resting easy.

Even in sleep, his brow appeared pinched with
pained remembrance. She touched his forehead, longing to soothe
away the tension. But he stirred restlessly, turning away from
her.Fearful of waking him, she retreated quietly from the room.

With a heavy heart, she went next to where
her grandfather lay in Jonathan's room. Jonathan, ever faithful in
his vigil, had fallen asleep in a wing-backed chair. Phaedra
skirted silently past him to the bedside. As she looked down at the
old man, remorse tore at her.

His bald head was swathed in bandages, his
once-ruddy features ashen. Phaedra expected to find him asleep and
was startled to see him staring up at her. His eyes were dulled,
and she glimpsed no recognition in their depths. He strained to
speak.

"Wh-wh ... "

As she bent closer, she realized he was
asking for a drink. She fetched a small quantity of brandy in a
glass. Raising his head, she held the goblet to his lips. He
sipped, choked, but managed to swallow some of the liquid. It
appeared to help. As she eased him back onto the pillow, his eyes
cleared. Frowning, he focused upon her.

"Dying," he said.

"No, Grandfather," she protested.

He managed to lift one hand, indicating that
she should be silent, the gesture still rife with his
impatience.

"Tell someone in-in case. Someone must
know."

She tucked the sheets more snugly about him.
"You will have plenty of time to tell me whatever it is later."

"No! Must tell now."

He was becoming agitated; Phaedra saw she
would have to humor him.

"Other day you were asking me ..." His voice
trailed off.

Phaedra waited patiently for him to continue,
but when he did, the words he gasped took her by surprise.

"Lethington girl."

"Julianna?" Phaedra tensed. When he lapsed
into silence, she prodded, "Is it something to do with her
death?"

His jowls quivered as he moved his head in a
barely perceptible shake.

"Julianna Lethington," he repeated in a
hoarse whisper. "She's alive. I know where she is."

Phaedra touched a hand to her grandfather’s
cheek, fearing to find him feverish. But his beard-stubbled flesh
felt cool. She could only suppose the blow had addled the old man's
wits.

"You mean you know where Julianna is buried,"
she said.

Weylin caught her wrist with surprising
strength, pulling her closer. "Not buried. Alive. Girl is alive."
Then he released her, closing his eyes as though the effort had
been too much for him.

It was all Phaedra could do not to shake him.
"Grandfather?"

At her sharp cry, his eyes fluttered open.
"Never meant to hurt her. Carleton said we would only abduct girl
... keep her away until Ewan married you." Tears glinted in the old
man's eyes as he paused for breath.

"Should not have trusted Carleton alone with
the girl He ravished her. I tried to stop him. Too late. Girl went
mad, lost her memory. Carleton wanted to kill her but I locked her
in the garret."

"The garret," Phaedra repeated, unable to
believe what she was hearing. So that was how the shepherdess had
come to be left there. Julianna must have dropped it during her
imprisonment. All the while James had engaged in his life and death
struggle with Lord Carleton, his sister had been much closer than
he ever realized.

"And then, Grandfather?" she asked. "You
obviously did not keep her in the attic forever. Where is Julianna
now?"

Her grandfather's eyes hazed. She feared he
meant to drift into unconsciousness without telling her anything
more.

Phaedra caught his shoulders roughly. "Where?
Damn you!"

Weylin made a feeble effort to shrink away
from her, but at last, he said, "Found woman to care for her at
cottage in Yorkshire. Made sure girl wanted for nothing."

Nothing but her mind, Phaedra thought and the
family whose love might have restored her. Phaedra nearly forgot
that her grandfather lay wounded and broken himself as she
reproached him, "And all these years, you've never told anyone,
never tried to reunite her with her family!"

“Girl had no family left. I caught her
brother James after he had murdered Carleton. Such a wild lad. I
was afraid of his questions, his vengeance. I bullied Ewan into
testifying. Made sure Lethington hanged. Then mother and other
brother disappeared."

Weylin closed his eyes as though he could
shut out Phaedra's reproach and his own guilty conscience. "After
I'm gone you see money keeps paid. Take care of that girl until she
dies."

"Then tell me where she is," Phaedra said.
"What is the name of the woman looking after her."

"Mrs. Link." Her grandfather was tiring.
Phaedra had to lean forward to catch his words. He mumbled the
woman's address and heaved a great sigh. As though he had eased
himself of a vast burden, he fell back to sleep.

Aye, and so he had, Phaedra thought as she
straightened. She felt the full weight of that burden settle upon
her own shoulders. What was she going to do now? James would have
to be told. And yet, how she dreaded his reaction!

To discover that his cherished sister had
been alive all these years, her mind broken, taken care of by a
stranger. It would only add more fuel to the fires of hatred that
already burned in his heart. She wished that she could wait until
James was more recovered before telling him but he had to know the
truth about his sister.

As she approached his room, she found the
door ajar. Gilly had just entered, bearing a breakfast tray. He was
now clumsily attempting to arrange James's pillows so that he could
sit up and eat.

"If you could just be shifting yourself a
bit," Gilly said testily. “It would make things a damned sight
easier."

James winced as he complied. His muscular
frame was swathed in the folds of a white nightshirt. The face she
remembered, possessed of such lean strength and bronzed by the sun
was wan Phaedra had to swallow back a lump that formed in her
throat.

"You make a cursed rough nursemaid,
Fitzhurst," James growled at Gilly.

"And you are a damned surly patient, de
LeCroix ... Lethington." Gilly pummeled the pillows so hard that
Phaedra expected to see feathers fly about the room. "Whatever the
devil I'm supposed to be after calling you."

"You can always try your lairdship," James
said with a wry smile, perfectly imitating Gilly's accent.

Phaedra knocked lightly and stepped into the
room. James's smile fled immediately. For an instant an expression
flared in his eyes, a raw hunger and despair. It quickly vanished
as he hooded his gaze.

As Phaedra hovered awkwardly just inside the
door, her heart strained toward him. She steeled herself, bidding
him a brisk good morning.

"Ah, Fae." Gilly said cheerfully. "You're
just in time to witness a battle the likes of which hasn't been
seen since Culloden. I'm about to force a bit of breakfast down his
lairdship's stubborn throat."

Phaedra forced an overbright smile to her
lips. "Oh, is he being difficult?" Her gaze flicked nervously to
James. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Tired," he said dully.

His rigid expression was not encouraging, but
she cleared her throat and said to her cousin, "Gilly, I wonder if
you could let me have a few moments alone with James."

She saw James tense. A brief hope flickered
in his eyes, then quickly died.

Gilly frowned and then shrugged. "Ah, well, I
never have been one for insisting upon the proprieties." He angled
a glance at James. "I suppose it is safe enough, considering the
man's weakened condition." But there was more of banter in Gilly's
comment than any intended insult.

"I trust your lairdship will call me to fetch
away the tray. I am becoming so good at this, I may seek out a post
as butler."

"No one would ever trust you with the keys to
the wine cellar," James retorted.

Gilly merely grinned. On his way past
Phaedra, he gave her an encouraging wink and squeezed her arm.
After Gilly had gone, an uneasy silence settled over the room.

Phaedra avoided any proximity to the bed. She
had no idea how to begin. She sensed a lethargy in James that
disturbed her. Even when playing the role of the impassive marquis,
a steely tension had always coiled within him, leaving her in no
doubt of the passions pulsing beneath. Now he seemed empty. It was
as though while his body healed, his soul continued to waste away.
Exactly as she'd feared.

And yet it was he who first broke the
silence. Slightly raising himself, he said, "Phaedra?"

"Aye?" She tried to keep the nearly
breathless eagerness from her voice.

He sank back immediately. "Never mind," he
muttered. "I grow tired of protesting my innocence." After a pause,
he added, "How is your grandfather?"

"I doubt he'll live to see another
winter."

"I could say I was sorry. But I am tired of
lying, as well."

She studied his face. "Why didn't you just
vanish from the theater that night? Why did you rescue him
again?"

"You know damn well I came to save you," he
said. "Just as that time at the supper party, I was only trying to
prevent that fool Wilkins from committing a hanging offense."

"Which he did, anyway."

"No." A taut smile of satisfaction pulled at
the corners of James's mouth. "Wilkins was transported. He and his
wife are far away from London by now, which we should have been if
you-" He broke off the accusation he had been about to make, as if
it were not worth the effort.

Phaedra drew nearer in spite of herself. She
fidgeted nervously with the end of the counterpane. "What will you
do?" she asked "When you are recovered, I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean," he
snapped.

"Your plans for the future."

"Plans. I haven't got any. I had no notion
that when you persuaded me to let go of the past, you meant to turn
your back on me and rob me of my future happiness as well."

Phaedra's eyes flashed to his with an
expression of reproach.

How dare he accuse her of such a thing! It
was he who had kept on with his quest for vengeance, destroying any
chance of a happy life together that they might have had. But she
swallowed her anger. All recriminations now seemed pointless.”

She drew in a quick breath. "I have something
to tell you. Something that will affect whatever you decide to do.
I have been talking to my grandfather about his part in what
happened seven years ago."

"That must have been an exercise in
futility."

Ignoring his cynical comment, she continued,
"He spoke of your sister. Your suspicions were correct. He took a
greater part in her abduction than I ever wanted to believe."

James said harshly, "That comes as no
surprise to me."

"I am afraid something that he told me will."
She saw no way to ease the shock, but plunged on, revealing to him
what her grandfather had said about Julianna. By the time she had
done, James's face was ashen, his eyes burning in a manner that
alarmed her.

She tried to mitigate her grandfather's sins
by adding, "He made certain she is being well cared for-"

But James was no longer listening. He flung
aside the counterpane. His lips set into a thin line as he
struggled to stand.

"What are you doing?" Phaedra gasped. "Do you
want to tear open your wound?"

She tried to force him back into bed, but it
would have been easier to move a block of granite. He pushed her
aside.

"Where are my clothes?" He took a few
unsteady steps and Phaedra thought she read murder in his eyes.

"Please!" She thrust herself in front of him.
"My grandfather is already dying. Nothing more that you can do will
change-"

"To the devil with him. I'm going after
Julianna."

"You cannot possibly. Not all the way to
Yorkshire. You'll be dead before you get there."

But James had managed to make his way to the
wardrobe. Pawing through the drawers, he located some garments,
which had been fetched by one of the footmen from the Heath. James
pulled out a pair of breeches and a shirt, his jaw grim with
determination.

She fled to the door, calling for Gilly.

By the time her cousin arrived, James had
already painfully struggled out of the nightshirt and into his
breeches. His face was as white as the bandage that bound his
shoulder.

"What the deuce!" Gilly said.

Phaedra quickly explained, but she did not
receive the support from her cousin that she had expected. His
brows drew together in a furious scowl.

"Well, I cannot say as I blame the man. If it
were my sister, I would be off like a shot myself."