by Anne Stuart
Everyone crowded around us when we appeared at the pond. I opened my eyes long enough to realize that I had run halfway around the lake in my panic. Everyone seemed accounted for—even Fathimore, looking suitably abashed. I shut my eyes again and concentrated on looking ill, which at that point wasn’t terribly difficult.
“What happened to her, Adam?” Karlew’s voice boomed in my ears. “Is she conscious?”
“Barely,” Adam lied. “She went for a walk on up the hill and fainted.” I squirmed faintly in protest. He merely shifted my limp form to cover my movements.
“Doesn’t she know any better than to walk alone on that hill?” Karlew demanded loudly. I winced at the noise.
“Well, she does now,” Adam said reasonably. “I’m going to take her back to the house.”
“Perhaps I should come along with you if she’s unconscious,” Maxine piped up helpfully.
My eyes fluttered open in my best Cousin Elinor imitation. “Oh, no, dear,” I said weakly. “I couldn’t possibly take you away from the party.”
“Oh, Miranda, it’s no trouble! If you aren’t feeling well then I think it’s my duty to come with you.”
“No, Maxine, I insist!” I smiled bravely. “Adam’s perfectly capable of delivering me safely into Nanny’s hands. And I really need to be by myself for a while.” Maxine glared at me but could find no further argument. I sighed and closed my eyes again as Adam carried me carefully over to the sleigh.
“I’ll send the stable boy back with the sled,” he promised Karlew as he settled me into the front seat and tucked a blanket around me. He climbed up beside me, taking the reins in his large, capable hands, and I found myself staring at them as we started off into the black starry night. I smiled wanly at the disappearing party. As soon as we were out of sight I sat up.
“You feeling better?” Adam asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
I shrugged. “At least I’m not surrounded by all those people.”
He considered this. “But you thought I was the evil pursuer. So you’d be in even more danger now.”
I looked at his hard profile: the strong nose and slightly hooded eyes. “I didn’t suppose you were the one chasing me, really,” I said fairly. “I jumped to that conclusion when you appeared so quickly. But it probably wasn’t you, and it probably wasn’t the murderer either.”
“Then who do you think it was? Are there a lot of people in this village who make a habit out of chasing young ladies around Barrett’s Hill?”
“It was probably just Fathimore, wanting to paw me some more.” I shuddered at the thought.
“Some more?” he said. “When has he pawed you?”
“Right before I ran into the woods,” I replied calmly. “Disgusting little creature.”
“Has he done this often?” There was a note of anger beneath his bantering tone.
“No, he’s never had the chance before. He’s always been content with leers up till now.” My mind wasn’t even on Fathimore anymore. I was thinking about the strong hands controlling the reins next to me. They snapped at the horses, making them leap ahead nervously.
The night was very quiet. Only the sounds of the runners gliding through the snow and the soft jingle of the bells marred the icy stillness. I felt very calm and sort of floating—probably just a reaction to all the tension I’d been going through.
“How are you feeling?” he asked suddenly.
“A bit dizzy,” I admitted. “Nothing broken.”
“Well, you’re going to get your neck broken if you’re not more careful,” he said coldly. “I have no idea if it was Fathimore chasing you. I do know it was the murderer.”
“Why do you say that?” I felt chilled.
“You entered the forest at the far end of the pond, right?”
I nodded.
“And you followed the path for a while until you came to the big maple?”
Suspicion rose afresh in my mind. “How did you know that?”
“Simple logic. That’s where the path leads. Did you get that far?”
“Yes. Just that far.” Distrust was patent in my voice.
“And then something frightened you, and you started off around the pond?”
“I didn’t know at the time it was around the pond,” I put in, trying to excuse my stupidity. “I thought I was going back the way I came. You still haven’t told me why you think it was the murderer.”
“Carly was found about three yards from where I found you. The trail of blood led all the way back to the maple tree.”
At that point I really did faint.
I was aware of him rubbing my wrists. He seemed shadowy and very large, looming over me. But somehow he seemed protective instead of frightening. I leaned against him and smiled hazily. He smiled back.
“Are you all right?” his voice was anxious.
I nodded peacefully. He was so pretty.
“Am I?” he grinned.
“Are you what?”
“Pretty?”
“Oh. I didn’t know I said that out loud.” I was unconcerned about what I was saying. My head was pounding pleasantly. “I think you’re pretty. Nanny says you’ve got eyes the color of emeralds, and she’s right,” I said dreamily.
He put his hand on my forehead.
“I think you’re coming down with a fever, my girl.”
“Because I said you’re pretty? Don’t be silly. Maxine thinks you’re pretty, too.” I frowned at the thought of Maxine. “Do you like her?”
“Who, Maxine? Can’t say I care much for her.”
“That’s nice.” My voice sounded pleased even to my slightly befuddled ears. “Where are we?”
“We’re in a ditch about a quarter of a mile from your cousin’s house. I’m afraid your abrupt faint caught me off guard, and I drove off the road. Do you think the horses can find their way back on their own if I free them?”
“Yes, but how are we going to get back? Or are we going to stay here all night?” The prospect sounded quite pleasant to me at the time.
He laughed. “I’d rather stay here, but I think we’d get too cold. I’ll let the horses free, and then I’ll carry you.”
“That’s nice,” I said again. He left me for a moment, and I realized I had fallen forward and was huddled on the floor of the cutter. I struggled dizzily onto the seat, my ankle paining me. I felt drunk.
He was back. “How are you feeling?”
“A little funny,” I admitted. I felt very sleepy. He lifted me into his arms and started down the road. I snuggled comfortably against him and sighed deeply.
We went on in silence for a while. I could feel his heart beating, and it made him seem deliciously human. I nuzzled my face against the scratchy wool of his coat, feeling like an enormously contented cat. I could have gone on forever like that.
Naturally the moment I decided that, lights flashed in our faces. “Who is it?” I heard Nanny’s voice call out roughly from the front porch. I stirred a bit but found I was unable to answer. Adam called out something but by that time everything seemed a pleasant haze. I remember crying out when they took me from his arms, and Nanny murmuring comforting things, and my bed, soft, warm, and protecting . . .
Chapter 7
ADAM WAS RIGHT; I was very sick. I wasn’t able to speak or focus on anything lucidly for three days. On the fourth I awoke feeling completely battered and worn out. I opened my gritty eyelids and saw a round figure sitting in a chair by my bed, dozing peacefully. “Nanny?” I croaked.
She woke with a start and resettled her glasses on her short nose. “My poor child, how long have you been awake?”
“Just this minute,” I answered truthfully. “I assume I’ve been sick?”
“Lord, yes, child!” Nanny busied herself by helping me
sit up and fluffing pillows behind my back. “We haven’t had a sensible word from you in three days.”
“Three days?” I repeated, horrified.
“Yes, indeed. It’s Monday morning already. We’ve all been so worried; you’d feel right gratified. Why, when Mr. Karlew insisted he stay by your bed and pray for you while you were delirious—”
“He would,” I interrupted in disgust.
Nanny frowned reprovingly. “Anyway, when he said he was going to stay with you while you were delirious, what did Mr. Adam say but that he’d take turns with him.” She sighed with admiration for her green-eyed paragon. “The reverend tried to get out of it, but you can imagine the outcome. Mr. Adam’s more than a match for him and always has been.”
“Do you mean to tell me that Adam Traywick was here in this room while I was unconscious?” I demanded.
“Well,” Nanny said fairly, “you weren’t exactly unconscious. Delirious might be a better word for it.”
“What did I say?” I choked out, imagining the worst.
“Well, I don’t know everything you said to him. When I was there you were murmuring something about emeralds.”
“Oh, no,” I moaned weakly and sank back into the pillows. “I think I have just had a relapse.”
“Now, now, Miss Miranda, don’t you worry. Nothing’s going to be held against you for what you said when you were sick,” she clucked. “Just you rest for a bit, and I’ll go down and see if I can’t find some good, strong broth. And perhaps a bit of tea?”
“With arsenic, please,” I requested faintly, my mind going round in circles. What had I said to Adam when he carried me back to the house? Something outrageous, I was sure. I was so caught up with worry that I didn’t notice Maxine’s dramatic entrance.
“Are you feeling better, Randy?” Her anxious voice broke through my nightmarish thoughts. I stared at her suspiciously, this concern being unnatural for someone as devoutly self-centered as she was. But her eyes were truly worried.
“I’m feeling better, Maxine, thank you,” I answered, trying to read what was going on beneath her perfect, innocent expression. “Has anything happened?” I asked.
“Happened?” she echoed, sounding nervous. “No, no, absolutely nothing,” she said unconvincingly. She was plainly terrified of something.
“Maxine,” I made my voice sound much stronger than my body was feeling. “Something’s wrong. I can tell you’re upset.”
“We’re all upset.” She tried to pass it off lightly. “You’ve been very, very sick. We’ve all been taking turns sitting with you.”
“So I heard,” I frowned. “Including Adam Traywick.”
Her pretty face turned pale. “Yes, he’s been here,” she whispered. “He sat by you for hours and hours.”
“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong,” I said—though her eyes said very plainly that it was Adam.
“Oh, Miranda,” Maxine’s face crumpled, “I’m so upset.” Suddenly tears poured down her face. “I’ve been terrified that—”
The door opened, cutting Maxine off in mid-sentence.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” Karlew’s unctuous voice heralded his entrance into the room. “Nanny said you were able to receive visitors. We’ve been terribly worried about our little cousin, haven’t we, Maxine?”
“Yes, Father,” she gulped, and then ran from the room.
Karlew sighed sympathetically after her disappearing figure then turned back to me. “You’ve been the center of a great deal of concern, Miranda.” He took the seat beside my bed and folded his hands across his spreading stomach. “Some of the things you were saying in your delirium were rather . . . disturbing.”
“Really?” My cool voice was discouraging. I wasn’t about to start explaining my complicated thought processes to anyone, least of all to Karlew.
He nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately Adam was a bit over-solicitous on your behalf, so I couldn’t really get a complete picture of what was troubling your mind,” he said ponderously, obviously expecting me to enlighten him.
“I’m sure your twisted mind can think of something suitable,” I snapped rashly. I wanted Karlew to go away more desperately than I had wanted anything in a long time.
“May I remind you that I am your guardian and religious advisor and therefore deserving of a little more respect, young lady!” He stood up abruptly. “I merely thought it my Christian duty to warn you to watch your step.” He glared at me for a moment. “And now I think it’s time for a little spiritual aid. Get out of bed, child, and on your knees!”
Inwardly I groaned. There is nothing quite so tiresome as Karlew’s religious fervor. I dragged myself from under the warm covers and sank to my knees on the hard oak floor beside the bed. It was icy cold—even with a fire in the small fireplace the Vermont chill couldn’t be done away with.
Karlew knelt beside me. I listened to his heavy breathing. “Oh Lord,” he intoned suddenly, “look down upon Thy servant with Thy awesome wrath and terrible forgiveness and teach her to be a humble Christian . . .”
I shut out his words easily and concentrated on the chill of the floor beneath me. Karlew tends to go on for hours at a time. I stared at the crumpled sheets before my eyes, and my mind went back to Adam. In my hazy recollection of the last few days I thought I could picture him leaning over me, his strong hand stroking my forehead. I shivered slightly, hoping Karlew wouldn’t notice. He was too caught up in his own eloquence to notice anything. It was all wishful thinking, anyway.
“Make this child of the devil one of Your own dear sheep, content to follow in Your paths . . .” He ranted on for a bit more. I thought I heard the door open but didn’t dare change my position of humble repentance.
“And make this wicked and licentious child realize her duty to her devoted guardian, that she may follow him in the paths of righteousness and maidenly deference.” A little chuckle floated above us. “Amen,” Karlew said hastily and stood up almost before I had a chance to echo him politely.
“‘Maidenly deference,’ Karlew?” Adam said. “When you have such a ‘licentious’ subject it appears to be almost hopeless. Of course, I unfortunately have yet to see any sign of licentiousness on Miranda’s part, but I bow to your superior knowledge.”
Karlew’s ruddy face turned crimson in fury. “How dare you!” he shrieked. “You always were totally godless, I knew, but there are limits to what I will stand from you! I will not have blasphemy in this house.”
“A much worse crime than murder, is it not, Karlew?” Adam said calmly, fixing his eyes on Karlew’s bulging veins. “The Good Lord knows when I’m serious. I assure you, He isn’t offended.”
“Someday soon, Adam, you will go too far.” Karlew’s voice was dangerously quiet. “And I will not answer for the consequences.” He glared at him for a moment longer then pushed his way from the room.
A moment later I felt the full force of those green eyes on me. I was still kneeling on the floor, mouth agape. There was cold hatred in his face such as I had never seen before. The sheer intensity of emotion stunned me. I saw his eyes register my reaction. He said nothing, merely helped me back into bed and tucked the covers around me. Instead of taking the chair, however, he sat down on the counterpane.
“It’s a little too soon after your fever for you to have to cope with Karlew’s God,” he said conversationally. I stared at him mindlessly—I had forgotten how beautiful he was.
I wasn’t functioning too well at that point. I was aware of only a few things: my naked body beneath the worn flannel nightgown and the quilts, the weight of his body next to mine, his hands practically touching me. I could almost feel my fever coming back. I could feel the too familiar haziness just out of reach, beckoning me. I fought it off.
“It’s very strange,” I murmured, “that I’m not afraid of you when I’m sick.
”
He smiled at that, and the tension seemed to leave his body. “Well, it shows that you’re not totally devoid of sense, anyway. How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad, I suppose,” I answered. “But you’d know better than I would, seeing that you’ve been keeping me company during my fever-ridden hours.”
He laughed. “Well, Karlew announced he was going to pray over you constantly, and I thought the devil should have an equal chance.”
“And you’re on the side of the devil?”
“Always, my dear Miranda, always. You were very enlightening, you know.”
I felt my face heat, and I had always prided myself on never blushing. “I’m sure I was,” I kept my voice cool. “But a gentleman wouldn’t bring up such an embarrassing subject.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Miranda,” he protested, offended, “whatever made you think I was a gentleman? I assure you I am no such thing.”
“I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.” I was busy watching the afternoon sun glisten on his golden hair. “Besides, I’m sure I couldn’t have said anything when I was delirious that I wouldn’t have said under normal circumstances.”
His expression was enigmatic. “Well, that’s very reassuring. So you really do think I’m the prettiest man you’ve ever seen?”
I gulped. “If I said so then I must have felt it at the time,” I answered bravely.
“But you’ve changed your mind? I am desolate.” His face looked cool and a little frightening. “Then you no longer want me to touch you . . . like this?” He reached out and caressed my cheek softly.
I was having a little trouble breathing. I felt cold and hot at the same time, and it was all I could do to keep myself from gasping for breath. My eyes met his, and my heart stopped beating. He leaned toward me and put his mouth very gently on mine. When he moved away, I shut my eyes and sank down in the bed, shivering. I heard him laugh softly, and my eyes flew open.