Dangerous

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Dangerous Page 35

by Monica Burns


  “I confess I rather like the idea of you having secrets, my sweet. It will be infinitely more gratifying to extract your confessions in bed,” he murmured. As always, the deep, husky note of his voice made her legs go weak.

  He straightened and grinned wickedly at her. It was an open invitation to sin, and any other time it was one she would have been eager to accept. But now, she was too worried. Aurora was right. She needed to tell him about the baby, but she just didn’t know how.

  “Stop teasing your wife, Lucien.” The dowager sniffed inelegantly. “A woman is entitled to the occasional secret.”

  “I can wait, yâ sabāha.” Lucien chuckled softly and kissed Constance on her brow before he took a step back from her. “So, do you want to hear my news?”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Relief won as she studied her husband’s look of supreme satisfaction. Lucien’s expression reminded her of Jamie when he’d done something that made him very proud. It was impossible to resist his exuberant manner, and with a smile she nodded at him.

  “We found it.”

  The words rang through the room with a rush of almost boyish excitement. Aurora gasped loudly, and Constance’s hand flew to her throat at the flush of exhilaration on his face.

  “Do you mean…?” Her question died on her lips the moment he nodded.

  “The Seth statue is in the library as we speak.”

  “And the map?” She barely breathed the question as she met his triumphant gaze.

  “How soon can you be ready to leave for Cairo?”

  Aware how much finding the artifact and the map meant to him, Constance rushed forward to fling her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. “Oh darling, that’s wonderful. I know how frustrating a search it’s been for you.”

  “I never would have found it without Jamie’s help.” Lucien shook his head as amazement swept across his face. “It was hidden in a secret niche in the tower’s upper chamber.”

  “You went back to that terrible room?” Her voice echoed with dismay, and disappointment tightened his mouth into a frown. Immediately she regretted her question. Lucien and Jamie had grown close, and she knew he would never have asked her son to go back to the tower.

  “No,” he said in a flat voice. “The boy went there without my permission.”

  “I’m sorry, my love. That was unfair of me,” she said softly as she pressed her palm to his cheek. “I know you’ve ordered both the children to stay out of the labyrinth unless someone is with them. I just…”

  The moment her voice trailed away, he nodded with understanding. He knew how much the room still frightened her. The memory of Oliver and his attempt to kill the boy still haunted her and there were nights when her nightmares made her toss and turn in her sleep. Lucien turned his head to kiss her palm in a silent gesture of forgiveness. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. She’d rescued him from the depths of hell with a love that continued to amaze him.

  His eyes met hers and he arched his eyebrows. “I’m of the opinion that Jamie is destined for political greatness. When I asked him why he’d disobeyed orders, the scamp had the cheek to say that he hadn’t disobeyed us because he wasn’t alone.”

  “You encourage their adventuresome natures too much, Lucien. The boy could have been hurt,” Aurora snapped. “Who the devil did the child say he was with?”

  “Someone named Isabel.”

  Brittle and sharp, the sound of china crashing against the floor startled him and before he could move, Constance hurried forward.

  “Are you hurt, Grandmother?” He followed Constance as she knelt at the older woman’s side. The dowager’s gray complexion made him frown with concern. She looked as if she’d seen one of the ghosts that still roamed the keep.

  With quick movements, Constance used a napkin to dab at the tea soaking its way into his grandmother’s gown. Obviously shaken, the old woman’s hand trembled as she took the table linen from Constance. She shook her head and turned her attention to the skirt of her dress, leaving Constance to pick up the pieces of the shattered cup and saucer.

  “I’m quite all right, my dear.”

  “You don’t look it.” Lucien frowned at his grandmother and rested his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of concern. “In fact, I’m inclined to have someone fetch Dr. Coburn.”

  “There’s no need for that.” Aurora appeared to have regained her strength, and she waved her hand at him in a dismissive manner. “It was simply a shock to hear her name.”

  “I take it you know who Isabel is.” Lucien eyed her in a way that said he wanted the truth from her.

  He briefly looked in Constance’s direction and saw her hand shake as she laid several pieces of broken china on the tea tray. The dismay darkening her lovely features made his heart ache. She’d realized the truth. Jamie hadn’t been with one of the living. He’d been talking with the dead.

  Over the past few months, he’d noticed the boy’s abilities seemed to have strengthened, but he’d not mentioned it to Constance. She believed passing on her gift to her son had cursed him. It was the reason he’d told her he was glad they didn’t have any children.

  He didn’t want her to carry the burden of thinking she might pass on her gift to another child. Although he’d come to think of Jamie as his own, the thought of seeing Constance round with their baby was something he longed for more than he’d ever expected to.

  “She was my sister.” His grandmother’s quiet words jerked him out of his contemplation.

  “Your sister?” Lucien stared at the dowager in astonishment. “You’ve never mentioned you had a sister.”

  “She died at a young age.” A slight quaver echoed in the dowager’s voice. Reaching for her cane, Aurora rose to her feet. “I think I’ll retire until supper.”

  “That’s all you have to say?” he exclaimed in a dumbfounded voice.

  “It’s all I intend to say, Lucien.” His grandmother straightened to her full height, her hands braced against the silver wolf’s head of her cane. “We’ll not speak of this again.”

  Not waiting for his response, Aurora walked past him with an unreadable expression on her face. He shook his head in amazed disbelief at the way his grandmother was signaling a retreat. It was unlike her in every respect.

  He’d never known her to be afraid of anything, but she was definitely afraid now. When he took a step after her, Constance quickly rose to her feet and touched his arm. He looked down at her and grimaced an acknowledgement of his wife’s silent plea to let his grandmother go for the moment.

  “She needs a little time to collect herself,” Constance said softly. “I think she must have cared for her sister very much.”

  “Then why hasn’t she ever mentioned her before?” Lucien frowned at the empty doorway of the salon. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Perhaps after she’s had time to think on it, she’ll explain things.”

  Lucien heard the distracted note in his wife’s voice, and forgetting his grandmother for the moment, he turned his head to see Constance staring at the floor. In a quick move, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. As she looked up at him, he kissed her gently.

  “You’re not to worry, yâ sabāha.”

  “I know. I’m certain she’ll be all right.”

  “I meant you’re not to worry about Jamie.” He slid his thumb across her plump lower lip. “The lad is far more comfortable with his gift than you give him credit for.”

  “I wish I could believe that.” A bleak expression crossed her face as she leaned into him and pressed her cheek against his chest.

  “You can.” He hugged her tight. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders. The devil himself would find it difficult to outwit the boy.”

  A soft laugh warmed his bare arm, and he smiled with relief. She’d been distracted for over a week now, and her laugh
ter was a welcome sound. Her recent illness had made her more than a little despondent, but it didn’t account for the strained look on her features whenever she thought he wasn’t watching her.

  “He is something of a charmer, isn’t he?” Constance lifted her head to meet his gaze with a smile.

  “Like his mother,” he murmured as a familiar need tugged at him.

  He brushed his mouth over hers, savoring the sweet remnants of almond butter cookies on her lips. She returned his kiss, but drew back seconds later. The anguish darkening her hazel eyes vanished almost as quickly as it flashed in her gaze.

  In the blink of an eye, her pain disappeared behind a composed expression. That was precisely what bothered him the most. She’d suddenly and easily put emotional distance between them. And it wasn’t the first time either. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. Whatever troubled her, it was time for them to resolve the issue. When they were finished, he’d find a way to convince his grandmother to share her secrets as well.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you tell me what’s really troubling you?” His quiet question caused her to stiffen in his arms.

  “What makes you think there’s something wrong?” She glanced away from him. “I’m simply worried about your grandmother, and I confess that it’s difficult not to be concerned about Jamie.”

  “Stop lying to me, Constance,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She knew he hated being lied to, and yet she was doing just that. With a shove at his chest, she broke free of his embrace. This time the distance between them became a physical one. He narrowed his gaze at her when she sent him a look of annoyance.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Despite her irritated denial, he heard the fear in her voice.

  “Then stop playing games, and tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”

  His angry growl hung in the air between them, and he realized it was the first time since they were married that he’d directed his anger at her. Frustration gnawed at him like an angry beast. She was afraid and yet she refused to tell him why.

  How could he help her if she didn’t talk to him? Had she suddenly realized she didn’t love him after all? The thought alarmed him as he frantically tried to think of any possible reason that would explain her odd behavior. No, he’d stake his life that she still loved him. Then what could make her so frightened that she’d hide it from him? Watching her closely, he saw the way her pulse fluttered frantically on the side of her neck, and he folded his arms across his chest.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?” she snapped. “Really, Lucien, one would think you suspected me of having an illicit liaison.”

  His heart slammed into his chest wall like a sledgehammer. Sweet Jesus, was that it? Had she been unfaithful? It was the perfect explanation for her odd behavior over the past week or so. Fury welled up inside him at the thought.

  “Are you?” he snarled then immediately realized the folly of the question. Her mouth fell open in shocked disbelief before her expression darkened with an anger that matched his own. God, he was a fool to have even thought such a thing.

  “I. Am. Not.” She spat out the words with furious indignation as she sailed toward the salon door.

  He shot out his hand to grasp her arm the minute she tried to pass him. “This conversation isn’t finished, yâ sabāha.”

  “It is as far as I’m concerned,” she said in an icy tone as she attempted to shake off his inflexible grasp.

  “Damn it, Constance, I know you wouldn’t betray me. It was dull-witted of me to even suggest such a thing.” He tugged her against him, and his body responded to her lush curves just as it did every time he was near her. “I love you, sweetheart. Your happiness is all that matters to me.”

  She remained silent in his arms, her face averted from his gaze. For the first time, he realized she’d lost weight, her face wasn’t quite so full, and there were shadows under her eyes. Had her illness taken a greater toll on her than he’d realized? A slim thread of fear whispered through him.

  “Yâ sabāha, whatever it is that’s troubling you, wouldn’t it be easier if we faced it together?” Slowly, she turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The misery in her face made his chest grow tight, and he pulled her deeper into his embrace. “Do you remember what I told you the day we were married?”

  She didn’t speak, she simply nodded. Capturing her chin, he forced her to look at him. “I told you that I would do everything in my power to keep you safe and make you happy. But I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “This is different,” she whispered with a note of anguish in her voice. “I just don’t—”

  “Aunt Constance. Uncle Lucien.” Imogene burst through the salon doorway, her panic evident in her shrill cry. “Come quick. It’s Grandmother. She fainted and fell in her room.”

  A jolt of fear slid through him at his niece’s words, and he quickly released Constance to race out of the salon. He took the stairs two at a time, vaguely noting the sound of Constance’s and Imogene’s footsteps close behind him. The instant he reached the second floor, he charged down the hallway to his grandmother’s room. Lily, his grandmother’s lady’s maid, stood in the open doorway waving him to a halt.

  “It’s all right, my lord, she’ll be fine. A bit bruised perhaps, but no broken bones.”

  “Have you sent for Dr. Coburn?”

  “No she hasn’t,” Aurora snapped with the air of an irritated empress from inside her room. “There’s no need. I simply need to rest my weary bones.”

  Over the top of Lily’s gray head, he saw his grandmother propped up in her bed amongst several pillows. At that moment, Constance and Imogene came to a halt beside him. With a dismissive gesture, the dowager sniffed with annoyance.

  “Lily, stop standing guard like a watchdog and let them in. I’m far from being on my deathbed.”

  “Not yet you aren’t, but you’re not a young bride newly arrived at the keep either.” The lady’s maid glared at her mistress.

  “Stop being impertinent and fetch me some tea.” Beneath her irate tone of voice was a note of deep affection for the other woman.

  “Impertinent am I?” Lily muttered as she stepped out of the doorway to let everyone pass into the room. “Try to look after her and what does she do? Calls me impertinent.”

  The lady’s maid disappeared from the room as Lucien went to his grandmother’s side. Taking her hand in his, he scowled at her. “I’m going to send for Dr. Coburn. One doesn’t faint without a reason.”

  “There was a reason,” Aurora said quietly as she turned her head toward Jamie, who stood near the window with his head bowed. Extending her hand to him, she smiled. “Come here, lad. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Jamie hesitated for a long moment before he slowly moved forward to take her hand. Guilt furrowed the boy’s brow and Lucien knew that whatever had happened Jamie somehow believed he was responsible.

  “Tell me what happened.” Lucien sent the two of them a stern look. When Jamie paled considerably, he immediately regretted his harsh command.

  “He saw her again,” Imogene exclaimed as she circled the bed to stand at Jamie’s side. Her hand slipped into her friend’s free hand in a gesture of support. “He saw Isabel standing next to Grandmother.”

  Behind him, he heard Constance utter a soft noise, and he turned his head toward her. Although her face was devoid of color, she remained stiff and unmoving. Satisfied she wouldn’t slide to the floor in a faint as his grandmother had done, he turned back to Aurora.

  “An explanation, if you please, Grandmother.” The reticence on her face made him clear his throat in a noise of ruthless demand. She looked up at him then released a sigh of acquiescence.

  “Very well.” Aurora nodded. “Isabel was older than me by four years. I adored her. She was smart, witty and she was
as good a shot and rider as our brothers.

  “I followed her and my brothers everywhere they would let me. When I was nine, Isabel, Frank and Robert allowed me to go ice skating with them at the pond below the manor. Father had told us we couldn’t go, but we sneaked out anyway.” Aurora paused and closed her eyes for a long moment.

  “I don’t know how many times I wished afterwards that we’d not disobeyed. I was taller, more stout, than Isabel, but not as strong. We hadn’t been on the ice long when I heard a loud crack.” A shudder racked his grandmother’s body, and Lucien leaned forward to take her hand. She drew in a deep breath and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “The ice gave way beneath me, and I went into the water. The others were at the other end of the pond, but Isabel was the first to reach me.

  “I was so frightened. Frightened and cold,” Aurora whispered. “When Isabel tried to pull me out of the water, I fought her, not really knowing what I was doing. She fell in with me, and went under, but she never came back up. Frank pulled me out of the water, while Robert went into the water to find her. He would have died too if the estate manager hadn’t been out inspecting the property. He heard us screaming, and he was the one to pull Robert out of the water.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Lucien said gruffly, wishing he could ease the pain and guilt in his grandmother’s voice. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Even if you’d stayed home, your sister could have fallen through the ice.”

  Aurora closed her eyes again. “But I didn’t. I’m responsible for her death.”

  “No.” Jamie’s voice was strong and vehement. “Isabel said to tell you that’s not true. She said her skirt got caught on something in the water and she couldn’t free herself.”

  “Is she here, child?”

  At the tremulous sound of Aurora’s question, Jamie shifted uncomfortably. His gaze flew toward Constance, who was studying him with consternation. Aware the boy didn’t want to upset his mother, Lucien sent his wife a look of reassurance. Her hand pressed to her stomach, she swallowed hard before sending her son a nod to continue.

 

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