Andrea Kane (41 page)

She didn’t respond, remaining limp and passive against him.

Braden refused to accept defeat. He gathered her closer still, desperate to make her believe his declaration and to have that belief make a difference. “Please, sweetheart. You were right. I
am
a damned fool. And I know it’s taken me forever to say the words. But I’m saying them now, Kassie, I’m saying them now. I love you. I love you so much. Please,
ma petite
”—his voice broke—“tell me that it’s not too late.”

Braden felt her stir, then draw back to look up at him. Her eyes were damp, the faraway look gone, and she reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers growing wet with the tears he didn’t remember shedding. She stroked his lips softly. “Say it again.”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “I love you,” he repeated, joy and relief flooding through him in great waves. He kissed her fingertips tenderly. “I love you.”

Kassie felt his words infuse her with strength, a strength she thought had long since dissipated. She pressed her face to his chest, listening to the sure beating of his heart … a heart that, at long last, belonged to her.

“You’ve rescued me once again, Braden Sheffield,” she whispered. “And it’s about time.”

“I
T’S NEARLY DAWN, SWEETHEART
. You should sleep,” Braden murmured into Kassie’s hair. He leaned his head contentedly back against the bedchamber’s deeply cushioned armchair and drew Kassie closer in his embrace. She had been that way for hours as together they had watched the night’s inky blackness envelop the sky, then quietly give way to the first persistent rays of day.

At Braden’s words she sighed and snuggled against her husband’s warmth. Sleep? How could there be any room for sleep when Braden had finally given voice to the words that she had longed to hear forever? He loved her. Her dream had become a reality.

Kassie rubbed her cheek against the soft silk of Braden’s robe, the frightening revelations of earlier that night held at bay.

“Well?” he repeated in a husky whisper. “Will you rest?”

“How long have you loved me?” she asked in hushed wonder, pointedly ignoring his nonsensical suggestion.

Braden grinned at the typically female question, asked in Kassie’s uncluttered, straightforward manner. “Since before I should have … since you were little more than a child,” he replied, knowing even as he answered that it was true. She had been written in his stars, a miracle that had entered his life long after he had ceased to believe that miracles existed. And even if everything else he believed in turned out to be a lie, Braden knew that what he shared with Kassie was real. “You are my heart … the very essence of my world,” he told her softly, tightening his arms about her. “And I love you.”

“I’m glad,” she said with understated simplicity, pressing her lips to the exposed skin at the base of his throat, “because I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you. I’ve loved you ever since.” She kissed his chin. “I’ll always love you.”

Emotion tightened Braden’s chest at Kassie’s honest declaration. For three years she had loved him … a love as unconditional as Kassie herself. And that love had never wavered, never faltered beneath self-doubt nor diminished beneath the hell of her life and the uncertainty that her love was returned. Braden felt humbled and proud—and fiercely determined to make everything up to her and to keep her safe at all costs.

“Kassie, I want to take you away,” he said suddenly.

She looked up at him in surprise. “Why?”

He met her gaze solemnly. “Because if Dr. Howell’s theory is correct and your mother’s murderer is still alive, then it is only a matter of time before he becomes a danger to you … if he is not one already.”

Kassie frowned. “Braden, are you implying that Charles—”

“I’m not implying anything,” he interrupted. “I’m
saying
that I want to take you far from Sherburgh to a place where you won’t represent a threat to whoever it is that is locked away in your memory.” He nodded decisively at his own words. “We’ll go to Paris. You’ve never been abroad, and I’m sure you would enjoy—”

“Braden, stop it!” Kassie jumped up, regarding him through stormy aqua eyes, hands firmly on her hips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Braden came to his feet in one fluid motion, his jaw tight with anger and frustration. “Did you understand what I just said?” he demanded. “Someone out there might be a killer. And if he suspects that you know who he is—”

“Then we’ll just have to learn his identity first, won’t we?”

He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her soft skin. “Dammit, Kassie, this is
not
a game!”

“I know that,” she returned, raising her chin in stubborn defiance, “and I am
not
a child!”

“What the hell does
that
mean?”

“It means that it is time you stopped looking upon me as a little girl, Braden. I am a grown woman—not only in bed, but in fact.” She pressed her fists firmly against the hard wall of his chest, willing him to hear her. “I am no longer the child of fifteen that you met on the beach. I am your wife, and I want a husband, not a guardian.” She met his determined gaze with her own. “Stop trying to protect me.”

He shook his head in amazement. “How can you ask me to stop trying to protect you when I’ve just told you that I love you?”

“It’s
because
you love me that I ask you,” she responded quietly. “You of all people know how strong I am. If I haven’t crumbled by now, I never will. Please, Braden”—she gripped his forearms—“let me have a say in my own future. Please.”

He stared down at her, warring emotions tearing him apart. He well understood what she was asking, what she required from him, and yet he loved her so deeply, needed her so damned much. He had only just realized how much. And having at last recognized the full extent of his feelings, how could he knowingly expose her to such great danger?

He saw the appeal on her face, and his resolve melted. “All right, Kassie,” he heard himself say. At her relieved look he shook his head. “But only for a day or two. If after that time we are no closer to a solution, then with or without your agreement I am taking you away from here. Is that clear?”

Kassie’s eyes glowed with love. “Perfectly clear, husband,” she answered softly. “And thank you.”

He tugged her to him wordlessly, praying that her thanks would not come with too high a price.

Kassie couldn’t wait to tell Charles.

Immediately after breakfast she hurried off to find him. The stables were deserted, so she raced across the grounds, cupping her hands over her mouth and calling his name. The only answer she received was from Percy, who ran along by her side, his barks mingling with his mistress’s calls and echoing back to them.

Kassie had just about given up and was heading back toward the house when she ran smack into the object of her search.

“Kassandra … I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” Charles looked preoccupied and tense.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She clutched his arms, radiant with pleasure.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Charles lost much of his faraway look, his blue eyes fixed on Kassie’s jubilant face.

Laughter bubbled up inside her. “He loves me!” she cried, throwing her arms around Charles’s neck. “Braden told me he loves me!”

Charles found himself hugging her back, her explosive joy contagious. “Kassandra, that is wonderful,” he said with warmth and sincerity. “Truly wonderful.”

Kassie released him and dropped lightly to her feet. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been searching forever!”

Charles’s expression closed. “I was out walking. I had much I needed to mull over.”

Kassie studied him thoughtfully. “Braden wants to take me away,” she blurted out. “Now. To Paris.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“He feels that I am in danger.” She paused. “My dreams have worsened. Last night … it was horrible.” She shuddered.

Charles’s mind was racing. “I don’t see the connection between your nightmares and Braden’s decision to whisk you off to Paris,” he said, managing to keep the fear out of his voice.

Kassie didn’t have to think. She made her decision. Charles deserved the truth. “It is Dr. Howell’s belief that I witnessed my mother’s death.” She paused, gauging Charles’s reaction. She could tell by his silence that her revelation came as no surprise. “You knew.”

“Yes, Kassandra, I knew.” Charles sounded tired, drained.

“Did you also know that he does not think Mama’s fall was accidental?”

Charles swallowed, his eyes growing damp. He said nothing.

“Both Braden and Dr. Howell are convinced it was murder.”

Charles’s head snapped back as if he had been struck. “
Murder?
” he cried out, white-faced and shaking. “Murder,” he repeated in a hoarse whisper, as if to negate the word with its utterance.

Kassie was grateful she had never doubted Charles’s innocence. His reaction more than proved her right. “Yes, murder.” She licked her lips, providing the heinous details in a wooden voice that didn’t belong to her. “Further, while they originally believed my father to be guilty, the question exists as to why I am still tormented by nightmares if the cause of them is dead. Hence, the possibility exists that the real murderer is still alive … and close by.”

Charles looked dazed, his gaze unfocused. He shook his head once, twice, trying to bring himself under control and failing. Everything inside him was unraveling; his strength, his wits, his sanity. “Elena,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “Elena, no …”

Kassie started. It was not only Charles’s use of her mother’s given name, but his agonized tone. Almost as if … “Charles, did you know my mother?” Her heart began to thump in her chest.

He stared right through her, his vague expression giving no indication that he had even heard her question. “You should go away with your husband, Kassandra,” he answered instead in a voice that was shaken, distant. “It would be for the best.”

Kassie felt a lump in her throat. If Charles was trying to frighten her, he was succeeding. But she shook her head emphatically. “I can’t run away, Charles. I need to come to terms with my past, to understand it. It is the only way I can ever find peace.”

“Even if what you discover causes you pain?” His hands were clenched at his sides.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Even then.”

Charles closed his eyes. “Go back to the house, Kassandra,” he said at last. “And listen to Braden, for he loves you very much.”

“But Charles,” she began, then stopped. She had so many questions, for whatever secret was locked inside Charles, Kassie suspected that it concerned her mother, if not her mother’s death. But she couldn’t risk pushing him when he was not ready to discuss it, for then she might never learn what she so desperately needed to know. Of one thing she still felt certain: No matter what mystery Charles carried, he was not a murderer. And difficult as it would be, she would have to be patient.

“All right, Charles,” she conceded softly. “I shall give you the time you are wordlessly requesting, because you are my friend. But I will be back later today. And then you will tell me what I need to know.”

Charles heard her walk away, his eyes still tightly closed. Her perception was so acute it was almost uncanny. She knew there was something … just as he knew the time had come.

And just as he knew that Elena would want it this way.

Harding was whistling cheerfully when Kassie entered Braden’s bedchamber. She stopped in surprise. Her husband’s valet was not usually so noisy.

“Good morning, Harding,” she greeted him. “Have you seen Braden?”

At the sound of Kassie’s voice Harding’s whistling ceased, and he broke into a broad grin. “Good morning, Your Grace. And no, I haven’t seen the duke.”

Kassie gave him an odd look. It seemed that
not
knowing Braden’s whereabouts was giving Harding great pleasure. “I see,” she responded. “Well, would you mind telling me the last time you
did
see him? I need to talk to him.”

Harding’s grin widened. “I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with His Grace since last night, although I did see him for a moment or two quite early this morning when he came in to change clothes.” His gleeful gaze fell on the untouched bed. “But he was eager to begin his day. In high spirits, actually.” He beamed his approval. “I’m certain, however, that he is equally eager to speak with you.”

Kassie didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or sink through the floor in embarrassment. Apparently Harding had deduced that she and Braden spent the night together. And judging from his reaction, the idea appealed to him very much.

“Thank you, Harding,” she managed, ducking out of the room, pink-cheeked. She hadn’t the heart to tell him that her night with her husband had been entirely chaste. It would shatter the poor valet’s illusions.

“Hello, lovey!” Margaret sailed by Kassie on her way to her mistress’s bedchamber. “I’m going to select your gown for dinner tonight.” She gave Kassie a knowing wink. “I planned to do it hours ago, but I didn’t want to disturb you.” Her happy voice trailed off behind her.

In a houseful of well-meaning servants, nothing was sacred.

Kassie descended the stairs, a smile tugging at her lips. Mere moments ago she had been besieged by tension, haunted by unanswered questions. Now she felt a warm glow touch her heart. The servants at Sherburgh were more like family to her than mere employees. And their tender caring was what made Sherburgh a home.

“Your Grace!” An ever-efficient Perkins hurried over to her. “I have a message for you.”

Kassie wondered if the news of her reunion with Braden had reached Perkins’s diligent ears yet. Seeing the twinkle in his eyes, Kassie had her answer. “A message?” she asked, trying not to blush.

“From the duke. He has asked that you meet him at the stream on the far side of the estate.” Perkins paused, his brows knit. “I believe his words were ‘at our picnic spot.’ Does that make sense?”

Kassie felt her mouth curve upwards. “Yes, Perkins. Perfect sense.”

He nodded. “Good. Little Lady has been saddled and brought around front for you.”