A Night of Angels
Page 3
“I will,” she said with a nod. “Just give me time.”
In truth, she’d wanted to tell those closest to her about her medical problem when she’d first learned of it. But she simply did not know how to start. And what would her grandfather’s response be when she told him?
He would be overcome with grief.
She’d resided with him at Lotheil Court for almost three years now, and despite their tumultuous beginning, she and the blustery Duke of Lotheil had grown quite close. “Please don’t let on to Evie yet. I’ll tell her, too. I’ll probably tell her first because she’s a woman and might understand better than my grandfather or Des. And how will I ever tell my brother? The news will crush Ewan as badly as it has crushed me.”
“Meggie, I will not speak to anyone without your approval.” He tossed her a mirthless smile. “I certainly would not say a word to my nieces. They’ll be swarming around you like bees to a hive if they have so much as a hint.”
Meggie laughed and rolled her eyes. “I know, but their motives are good. They would rush over to help me, but you and I know there is no help for this.”
George ran a hand through his hair, his expression in that moment so like his son’s look of worry last night. In truth, William was a younger version of his father. Both were handsome men. More important, there was a no-nonsense kindness about them and a wisdom of the ages. Yes, that was what had drawn her to William last night. It wasn’t just his good looks. There was a comforting, solid intelligence about him that almost made her give in and tell him her secret.
George finished his examination and discreetly turned away while she fastened her laces. “Evie’s worried about you, Meggie,” he said, staring at the wood-paneled wall while she hastily put herself together. He cleared his throat and continued. “I haven’t said anything, of course. But please tell her soon. I’m not suggesting you make a declaration in front of the entire family. However, you can trust Evie or any of my nieces to keep what you say in confidence. Choose someone to talk to before this thing eats you alive.”
“Your son suggested the same thing last night. He wants me to confide in him.” She walked to George’s side and tapped him on the shoulder to let him know she was decent and he could turn to face her. “I know this must be quite awkward for you, being married to my cousin. Our families being so close.”
He shook his head in denial. “Not awkward, just personal. You are part of our family now, Meggie. We all want to protect and care for you.”
“I know.”
“I do not wish to make light of your situation, but things could be worse. You are not dying.”
She nodded. “Thanks to you. I am so grateful to you, George. But I will never be able–”
A knock at the door interrupted her sentence.
She expected it would be George’s assistant, so she was not particularly concerned when George opened the door to show her out and allow his assistant in. What she did not expect was the gentleman who stood in the doorway. Indeed, taking up most of the doorway with his size and the breadth of his broad shoulders.
Meggie gulped. “William, what are you doing here?”
He said nothing, merely eyed her with confusion and a growing anger. What reason did he have to be angry with her? Did he believe she and his father were up to no good behind closed doors? She glanced down and noticed one of her laces had not been securely tied, so she hastily fixed it. “Oh…oh, dear.”
She certainly did not wish to remain standing there a moment longer, for William appeared to be at the end of his fuse and she had no desire to be anywhere near him when his explosion came. “A better question,” he said in a low, feral growl, “is what are you doing here?”
He looked past her to stare at his father, and she saw the moment realization dawned on him. The blood drained from his handsome face. “Oh, God. Meggie, are you ill?”
He quietly closed the door and stared at both of them in expectation of an answer.
Meggie cast him a defiant look, one she hoped would hide her panic “No, I’m not ill. I’m…um, most awkward. You’ve found us out. Your father and I are having a…a tawdry liaison.”
Both men groaned at the same time and cast her matching looks of disbelief and irritation. “Sorry,” she said, wincing as she turned to George and offered a sincere apology. “It was the first panicked idea that popped into my head. Of course, it was a terrible thing to say, especially about you. Simply awful. Completely untrue. I’m so sorry. You’re one of the finest men I’ve ever met. Perhaps the finest, which makes what I just blurted even more reprehensible. But I did not expect to find William standing on the other side of your door and I wanted him to go away. Mostly, I wanted to shock him into going away and keeping silent that he ever saw me in your office.”
William folded his arms across his chest. Both his arms and his chest appeared magnificently massive. “Stupid ploy, Meggie. And it’s failed. I’m not leaving.”
Meggie turned once more to his father. “Please make him behave. This is your clinic. He must listen to you.”
George shook his head. “Sorry, Meggie. William is his own man. He stopped obeying me about the same time he first learned to crawl. That was before his first birthday. I doubt he’d listen if I told him to go away now.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, handed over her reticule and pelisse, and then patted his son on the back. “Now that you know Meggie’s here, make yourself useful and walk her back to the museum before the lecture ends. Respect her wishes and keep quiet about meeting her here. See you both for supper this evening. Evie has a special menu planned.”
He nudged both of them out of his office and closed the door behind them.
William remained standing in the street, looking like the stone monument of a Roman god, his expression as fierce as that of the god of war. He looked so handsome, Meggie knew he’d fit right in with all those rippling bodies cast in marble that filled the museum exhibit halls.
“Let me understand this, Megs. You mention to your grandfather that you are going to tour the museum displays or listen to a stuffy lecture, but what you really do is sneak out to see my father? Your maid must know. Hasn’t she told your grandfather?”
“No, I give her a few coins and ask her to return to the lecture hall when it ends. That usually gives me an hour to myself. Maude is a sweet girl, but she isn’t too bright. My secret has been safe so far.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He spoke in a raw and ragged whisper.
“How could I? What was I supposed to say to you last night? Welcome home, William, and now let me lay my sorrows at your feet?” She turned away from his burning gaze to stare down the street toward the museum. She was too numb at the moment to care that the wind had turned chill and blustery. The ladies and gentlemen who passed by were clutching their cloaks and holding on to their hats to keep them from flying off their heads. “Professor Klausshammer’s talk is about to end, and Maude will be expecting me to walk out of the lecture hall along with the rest of the crowd. I must go.”
She tried to dart away, but he took her arm in his and clapped one hand over hers to keep her from pulling away. “I’ll walk you back.”
“You needn’t.”
“Don’t.” He released a deep breath. “Don’t push me away, Megs. I’m too big to push around and I won’t budge.”
“But I’ll be seen with you. People will talk. This is highly improper. I cannot be alone with you.” She cast him a pleading gaze, feeling very much like a rabbit caught in a trap and now being eyed by a wolf who meant to pounce on her and swallow her whole. Not that William would ever harm her. Quite the opposite, he’d always been ridiculously protective. Now that he’d seen her in his father’s clinic, he was not going to let the matter drop. “William, whatever possessed you to visit your father at his office?”
He cast her a wistful smile. “I intended to pay a call on Lady Eloise, but she was busy, so I came here instead. No reason other than he’s my father and I enjoy seeing him. I w
as hoping to take him to our club for lunch.” He absently caressed her hand as he spoke. “I’ve been away from home for two long years. I thought he’d be glad to see me.”
“I’m sure he was and now I’ve spoiled it. You ought to go back and take him to lunch as you intended.”
“I’m not leaving you, Megs. So stop trying to get rid of me. Who else knows about this? About your…illness.” His manner was so gentle, she felt herself crumbling.
“Only your father.” No one else had heard so much as a whisper about it because she’d succeeded in her subterfuge for the past two months. She would tell her family after the Yuletide holiday. Not before. This was a time for merriment and good cheer. She had no desire to dampen anyone’s spirit.
There would be plenty of time for pitying glances and comments afterward.
Telling her entire family, one that included her brother and grandfather and cousins…and the Farthingales, of course, would be a daunting undertaking. It was not going to be easy for her to reveal her situation without bursting into tears. Nor would it be easy for any of them to hear it without their eyes tearing up. “You can’t say anything, William. Please keep my secret. Promise me.”
The wind now felt icy against her back and on her neck. William must have noticed her shivering. He drew her closer so that she was leaning into the warmth of his body. But he was obviously exasperated with her. He ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair that still managed to look perfect even in its rugged disarray. “How can I promise anything when I still don’t know what that secret is? You have me worried to death.”
He hurried her in the museum’s back entrance and then held her back a moment to help put her own tousled curls into proper order. “What am I missing, Megs? You look beautiful, not at all pale or sallow.”
He rubbed a loose strand of her hair between the pads of his fingers, taking a moment before he brushed that stray red curl back into place behind her ear. He finished by gently running his knuckle across her cheek in a delicate caress. “Your hair’s not falling out. Feels thick and silky.”
“It started to fall out when I had the fever, but it’s grown back quite nicely.”
“A fever? Rather a serious one, it seems.” He nodded toward the museum’s large front doors. “There’s a little tea shop around the corner. I’m taking you to tea the moment the lecture ends. I’ll go along with your ruse for now. Would you care for some ginger cake? We’ll walk out of the hall pretending we met there by accident. Your maid and footmen can follow us to the shop. How’s that? Innocent enough for you?”
Meggie nibbled her lip. “My grandfather will hear of this and he won’t be pleased.”
“Ah, a noble Cameron and a common Farthingale sitting down to tea. The beautiful, regal swan in the company of a crude, honking goose. The horror! I promise not to propose marriage to you. Will that allay his fears?”
She shook her head and laughed. “Yes, I suppose so.”
He grinned and relaxed his hold on her. “Good. We’ll start with you telling me whatever you feel comfortable telling me.”
“And end with my pouring out my heart to you?”
“Your heart is precious to me, Megs. Surely, you know that. You can count on my discretion.” The warmth in his deep, resonant voice wrapped around her like a soft, soothing breeze. “You can count on my friendship, too.”
He looked impossibly handsome in his buff-colored breeches, dark blue jacket, and crisp lawn shirt. The threads of blue silk in his cravat somehow enhanced the azure of his eyes. His black cloak had blown off one shoulder by the force of the wind, but he didn’t seem to mind the cold.
Indeed, a delicious heat radiated off his body.
Perhaps it was the unexpected heat he was stirring in her. “I think I will need a friend to help me through these next few weeks. Thank you.” She ought to tell him everything as soon as possible, not only because he was right about the importance of confiding in someone she trusted, but also because she did not want to become too attached to him.
As he’d just said, he was not going to marry her.
He would never consider marrying her once she told him about her condition. It was for the best that their hearts did not become engaged. Not that William’s heart would ever be engaged with hers. But on the slight chance that it could be, she wanted to make certain it would not happen.
All chatter immediately ceased as she entered the charming tearoom on William’s arm.
Mostly women populated the establishment that was decorated in red frills and white lace and displayed colorful teapots of all shapes and sizes on shelves along the walls. Everyone stared at her and William with avid interest. Mostly stared at William, of course. Who wouldn’t get lost in those beautiful blue eyes of his? She had not been exaggerating when she’d told him that he was swoon worthy.
The silence lingered.
Perhaps it was not a good idea to come here with him. Nor could they manage a private conversation amid all these prying eyes and ears. William pursed his lips in displeasure, no doubt realizing the same thing.
But he decided against leaving when she suggested it. “Megs, you’re cold. Probably hungry, too. Let’s stay.”
So, they took a table in the quietest possible corner and spoke only of casual topics. William’s frustration was obvious, but he was his usual self, teasing and playful, and intelligent and insightful when the conversation required it. He was not going to push her into revealing her secrets there, and she was grateful for it.
The shopkeeper delivered a splendid array of cakes along with their tea while William was in the middle of relating his adventures along the Silk Road, the ancient trade route that connected exotic, faraway lands with Europe. “One never travels on one’s own, but as part of a caravan. It is foolhardy to travel any other way. Most of the lands along this road are tribal, so it is members of the ruling family in that tribe – along with their small army of tribesmen – who guide the caravans through their territory. Once a caravan reaches the neighboring border, the next tribe takes up protection duties until it safely passes across their lands.”
Meggie frowned lightly. “But you were set upon and almost killed.”
He nodded. “We traveled across some rough terrain that was not so easily protected. I don’t know whether the marauders were from within their local population or were outside cutpurses and thieves, but riches always draw men who covet those riches and are willing to risk their own deaths to attain it.”
Her eyes widened in fascination. She popped morsels of cake in her mouth, drank down her tea, and mostly listened to William as he continued. “It was a particularly cold night in the mountains and the tribal leaders must have sensed danger, for they told us to keep our weapons close and they put extra guards on watch around us. I was scared, Megs. So were most of the merchants traveling in that caravan. Even the camels were restless. I lay awake in my makeshift pallet, rifle in hand, staring up at the stars and wondering if I’d live to see the next sunrise.”
Meggie put her hand over his. “Oh, William. I can only imagine what must have been running through your mind in that moment.” Then she realized she was touching him and hastily drew her hand away.
He grinned at her, but it was a wistful grin. “I thought of you, Megs.”
Her heart gave a little flutter. “Me? Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it was because the family had assigned me to watch over you during your first months in London and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to protect you if I was dead. But that doesn’t make much sense, does it? I was halfway around the world and couldn’t protect you anyway. Not that you really needed me after those first few months.”
He shrugged again and continued. “A million stars were shining in the black sky. The silver moon was huge that night. A steady wind howled through the mountain crags and passes, sounding to me like the moan of spirits waiting to steal away the souls of the dead. Then the gunfire erupted. Before I knew it, shots were striki
ng the ground all around me. I felt a hot sting on my arm. Then one at my leg. Then another on my leg.”
Meggie gasped. “Oh, William!”
“I fired back. Shot. Reloaded. Shot. Reloaded. It felt like an eternity, but the battle could not have raged more than fifteen minutes before it ended. Only then did I start to feel the pain in my body. I was bleeding. I tried to stand, but couldn’t. So, I lay there, flat on my back while the tribesmen cleared away the dead. I stared up at the stars and the silver moon as the world spun around me. I thought I was going to die that night. Then your face appeared against the shining stars. You smiled down on me. There was a jeweled light in your eyes. You spoke to me, your voice with its lovely, melodic lilt.”
Meggie found it hard to catch her breath. “What did I say to you?”
“I’m not going to tell you now. Perhaps another time.” He drained the last of his tea with his typically hearty enthusiasm and rose. “Shall we go?”
She nodded, casting him a warm smile as she took his outstretched hand. “William, are you all healed? Or do your wounds still require treatment? Is that really why you stopped by your father’s clinic?”
“No, Megs. I’m fine. In the pink. I stopped by for exactly the reason I told you. I wanted to spend a little time with him. As for my wounds, we may think of these tribes as uncivilized, but the truth is that in some things, they are far more advanced than we are. My injuries were treated with great care and I felt very little pain. I even brought my father some ancient healing powders that I thought would interest him.”
He looked out the window and then turned back to her. “Looks like the wind has died down.”
“We could walk back through Hyde Park,” she suggested, knowing that after what he’d told her, she could not hold back her secret. “That will give us time to talk. That is, if you’re not too busy to spend a little more time with me.” Her eyes suddenly widened in alarm. “But can you walk the distance on your injured leg? I didn’t notice a limp. In truth, you look quite fit.”