Dreamspinner (34 page)

“But Emily herself believed it,” Rose whispered. “Ask Kent... the last word she uttered was ‘Dreamspinner.”

For one protracted moment Juliet’s heart ceased beating. Emily again. Always Emily.

She gazed down the expanse of table, past the silver candelabra, to Kent. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. His eyes were hooded, his thoughts impenetrable.

“Is it true?” she said, pushing the words past dry lips.

“Yes, but if there were really a curse, then I myself should have died years ago. So you see, I’m living proof you’ve nothing to fear.” He glanced around at the others. “There’s been enough said about the necklace. I’d like to eat the rest of my dinner in peace.”

His directive seemed to shatter the spell; Maud began narrating the latest court gossip. Fleetwood cleared away the soup dishes and brought a course of poached mackerel in gooseberry sauce. A spidery daze spun a web around Juliet’s senses. She ate without tasting, smiled without feeling, listened without hearing. Suspicion hovered at the rim of her mind, knotting her insides.

Buried misgivings surged forth. Kent’s secretiveness about Dreamspinner had something to do with Emily’s death. Not with any hidden joy over his coming child, not with any guarded love for his new wife. She’d been so elated when he’d put away Emily’s photograph weeks ago...

Dinner ended at last. Juliet started toward the drawing room with the rest of the party. Kent slipped an arm around her. “My wife has had a long day,” he said smoothly. “We’ll forgo any further socializing tonight.”

His grip firm at her waist, he guided her up the dim curving stairs. Pain pushed at her throat. Her stupor began to lift, blown away by the winds of resentment.

The instant they reached her bedchamber, she wheeled on him. “I demand to know exactly what you planned to accomplish tonight.”

“Planned?” His eyes were piercing, though he casually peeled off his coat and tossed it over a chair. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t be coy. You gave me Dreamspinner on purpose because you wanted to see everyone’s reaction. Your scheme had something to do with Emily, didn’t it?”

The mantel clock ticked into the silence. As if gauging her mood, he studied her. His reticence set her teeth on edge.

“I want the truth, Kent.”

He turned away to throw open a window. Then he leaned a shoulder against the stone wall, the draperies undulating under a rush of cool night air.

“Perhaps it’s best you know,” he said slowly. “I believe Emily was murdered, that someone pushed her from the parapet. Someone in this household.”

The dreadful certainty in his voice sliced into her heart. “Who would do such an inhuman thing?”

“I don’t know.” His gaze went unfocused before sharpening on her. “Dreamspinner is connected somehow to her death. I wanted you to wear it tonight in hopes that the murderer might give himself away.”

She bit back a moan. Though she sensed the powerful grief that drove him to assume murder, her own misery overwhelmed compassion. He didn’t love her; he was still obsessed with his dead wife.

Her fingers quivered on the necklace clasp. Dreamspinner slithered toward the valley between her breasts. She caught the jewels; they lay like a dead weight in her hand. Then she hurled the necklace straight at Kent. “Take your meaningless gift.”

It struck his chest. His hand shot out to catch the emeralds, the gems glinting dark green against his white shirt. “What the devil—”

“You used me.” She meant to be firm; her voice emerged a reedy whisper. “You couldn’t give a gift out of love for me or pride in our baby. All you wanted was to absolve Emily, to keep her from being branded a suicide.”

His black brows slashed into a frown. “That isn’t true—”

“Don’t try to placate me. I’m tired of your devotion to a dead woman.” Blinded by anguish, she stumbled away from him, toward the door.

He caught her hand on the knob. His fingers dug into hers, holding fast and firm. He pressed her to the door, his chest wedged against her spine, his arms straddling her.

“Juliet, for Christ’s sake, let me explain.”

She stood still, trapped as much by his body as by her own foolish yearning.

“You’re wrong about this, about me,” he said. “I gave you Dreamspinner because I wanted to protect
you.”

His words made no sense, yet perfect sense.
Protect.
Not love. Not cherish. Just hollow emotion when her own heart ached with love. His nearness tempted her to forgo reason, to turn around and lose herself in the steady warmth of his embrace. Laying her forehead against the hard oak of the door, she steeled herself against giving in.

His fingers moved restlessly up and down her bare arm. “Don’t you see, darling? I gave you the necklace because I’m afraid the murderer is after
you.”

His words took a moment to penetrate. She twisted violently to face him. “Me?”

“The accident today revived my suspicions. If indeed it
was
an accident.”

His voice rang with grim conviction, a conviction echoed in the harsh set of his features. She wanted desperately to believe his concern was solely for her.

But... murder? “It can’t be true,” she murmured. “It just can’t be.”

“Look at the facts. I
heard
what Emily said. She must have been trying to tell me something about her killer.”

“Was she wearing Dreamspinner at the time?”

Kent shook his head. “The necklace was in the library safe.”

“She must have been confused, then, in shock. Perhaps she merely meant the
curse
had caused another tragic misfortune.”

He frowned into the distance. “That’s what I had to conclude three years ago. But it never made sense. What was Emily doing on the battlements to begin with? She was too timid to venture out there alone... unless someone was with her. Someone she trusted.”

“But how does Dreamspinner fit in?”

Kent pushed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. God, I just don’t know.”

Despite his warm proximity, Juliet felt the icy ball inside her thicken. “Why would anyone want to kill her... or me?”

He swung away and began a restive pacing of the bedroom. “Emily carried my child,” he said, his tone hollow yet heavy. “Now, on the very day you discover your pregnancy, a rock falls on the greenhouse and nearly kills you. Perhaps someone doesn’t wish an heir born to me.”

Shaken, she put a protective hand over her belly. “You can’t mean Gordon... or Augusta?”

“I’ve known Gordon all my life. I simply can’t imagine him or his wife stooping to murder. Besides, if he wanted to be duke so badly, why hasn’t he tried to kill
me?”

Juliet thought for a moment. “Augusta gave up her dowry to Radcliffe. Perhaps she thinks the castle ought to be hers.”

“She spends her days helping people. I can’t picture her in the role of murderess.”

“Who else, then? Chantal? Rose?”

“Chantal wouldn’t have killed her own daughter. Nor would Rose have killed her half sister.”

Juliet caught her breath. “Maybe Ravi?”

Kent decisively shook his head. “When Emily was a child, he pulled her out of the way of a rearing horse. That isn’t the act of someone who’d want her dead. I’d trust Ravi with my life.”

But it isn’t your life at stake.
“Kent, there’s something I almost forgot. Right before that rock fell, I happened to look up at the parapet and saw something pale.”

He rounded on her. “What? What did you see?”

“It may have been a face.” She shivered, remembering. “At the time, I thought it was a trick of the sunlight.”

A sinister fury entered his gaze. Kent went to stare at the necklace that lay on the night table, the emeralds glowing like evil eyes in the light of a single candle. Abruptly he slammed his fist onto the table, making the jewels leap and clatter.

“Dammit, I thought Dreamspinner might help me identify the killer. But I couldn’t tell anything conclusive.
Nothing!”

“We’ll
find the killer, Kent.”

“Oh, no, not
we.
” He resumed his swift circuit of the carpet. “You’re taking the first train to London in the morning.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “You’ll be far safer under your father’s protection than mine.”

Juliet stared. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, you are. It’s far too dangerous for you to stay. At the very least, another of these ‘accidents’ could cause you to lose our baby.”

“You might have consulted me—”

“You’re going, and that’s that.”

His arrogance stirred her to unreasoning anger. The words emerged without thought: “And which do you care more about protecting, me or your heir?”

Prowling the room, he shot her a glance. “Don’t be absurd. Of course I care for you.”

A devil of resentment nudged her toward him. “Do you? Perhaps all this talk or murder is a convenient excuse to send me away, to rid yourself of a wife who insists on having her dowry.”

“A convenient excuse!” Kent swung toward her, his
expression arrested. “Are you mad? Do you really think I would cast you off—” His voice faltered, as if words deserted him. He brushed his fingertips across her scraped cheek. “My life will be empty without you. But your safety is at stake.”

“Is it, really? Perhaps what happened today
was
an accident.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His mouth looked vulnerable. “Juliet, I love you too much to risk losing you.”

Her heart leapt. Sincerity radiated from him, and the faint tremor of his hand displayed the force of his emotions. But did he truly care or did he merely mean to placate her?

Desperate longing swirled through her, a longing so acute, it left her breathless. Yet she’d been hurt too many times. “Oh, Kent, I want to believe you...”

He pulled her close, nestling her to his chest. “Then do. Nothing will be the same without you here.”

His mouth came down hard on hers; he kissed her until her head spun and her loins ached. The sleek strands of his hair sifted through her fingers. Greedy for the ecstasy his kiss promised, she slid her hands inside his starched collar and pressed her hips to his groin.

His low growl of appreciation gusted against her mouth. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “But dare we? I don’t want to hurt our baby.”

Uncertainty shaded his voice, an uncertainty that sparked a flame of curiosity in Juliet. “The doctor said it’s safe to make love while I’m expecting. Don’t you know... from Emily?”

He drew back to stare moodily at her. “Juliet, I should tell you... we were more friends than lovers. Emily grew up without a father’s guidance, so she looked to me to take care of her. Her dependence brought me a quiet joy. But with you...” His hands cradled her neck, his thumbs gently rubbing her jaw. “With you I’ve discovered the consuming fire of love. I never dreamed a wife could be so passionate until I shared a bed with you.”

Elation throbbed heavily in her belly. She lay her head on his broad shoulder. “I need you, Kent. Forever. For always.”

“I need you, too,” he whispered, unbuttoning her gown. “It’s been four lonely nights since I’ve held you in my arms.”

He drew off her dress and corset, and cool air kissed her skin. His urgency vitalized her; she felt an unbearable hope for the future, a hope that would be torture to abandon. If arguments couldn’t dissuade him from sending her away, perhaps lovemaking would.

“There’ll be no more waiting,” she said, her fingers seeking his trousers. “No more nights spent apart.”

Indecision haunted the aggressively male contours of his face; yearning softened the austerity of his mouth. “Darling, you can’t stay here. It’s impossible—”

He stiffened as she took his heat into her hand and began stroking him. “Ah, Juliet.” Tension melted from him and he buried his face between her breasts, his hands cupping the undersides while his thumbs drew circles around the silk draped nipples. A gush of liquid fever threatened to drown her sanity.

“There’ll be no more secrets between us, either,” she murmured. “From now on, we’ll both be honest with each other.”

Abruptly his head swung up; his eyes clouded with a strange and savage intensity. “Here’s honesty, then: I want you. Now.”

Without bothering to finish undressing, he pulled her toward the bed and snuffed out the candle. Night enclosed them in intimate darkness, a darkness as soft and primal as the earth, a darkness as familiar and exciting as the insistent pulse of desire within her. Catching her by the waist, he guided her down onto the bed until she lay atop him. His breath blew hot and harsh against her throat; his hands coasted unerringly beneath the layers of her petticoats and up her bare legs. He probed the parting in her underdrawers and found her moist and ready.

Moaning, she spread her legs to encompass his trouser clad thighs. She rocked her hips, the better to feel his hardness. He eased upward in a slow, sweet
movement and joined their bodies. She bent to kiss his shadowed face, her hair tumbling like a curtain around them, her breasts heavy and loose inside the silk chemise.

He guided her hips. “Move with me, Juliet. Love me. Love me.”

She didn’t answer; she couldn’t speak for the exquisite pleasure tightening her throat, a pleasure born as much from the surety of his love as the passion of their bodies. He pressed deeper into her, thrusting upward with the rhythm and rush of passion. She clutched at his shoulders, her petticoats billowing around them. An exhilarating tension lured her on the relentless ascent to bliss. The pressure burst at last, convulsing her body with the sweet sharp spasms of ecstasy. Even as she collapsed against his slick skin, he cried out her name in the throes of his own release.

Unable to move or think, she lay sprawled over him. Beneath her cheek she felt the quick rise and fall of his chest and the solid thrum of his heartbeat. His hand drifted over her hair, the hypnotic movement making her drowsy.

“Juliet.”

The quiet agony in his voice snapped her fully awake. She pushed up against his chest, but darkness obscured his expression. “What is it?”

“I should never have brought you here. I should never have exposed you to such danger.” Guilt and horror burdened his words.