Lady Lissa's Liaison (25 page)

"I was up early this morning. I—I heard my papa. I think you made him sad. Did you, Lisha? Make him sad?"

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, pausing in her climb. She was shaking now. She was too high up in the tree. So very, very high. She stared at the wood above her, forcing herself to stay calm. "I—I am going to share a secret with you, Harry."

Lissa climbed to the next limb, and then the next. "I would never do anything to make your father sad, Harry. Not intentionally. I've become quite fond of him. In fact, I... I have come to love the both of you. Very much."

There was silence then, interrupted only by the creaking of the tree and the ever-present rush of the river. "Harry, are you listening, sweetheart?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I love you, too, Lisha."

It was then she heard the soft muffle of his cries.

"Sweetheart, don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I am happy, Lisha. Happy that you came to save me, and that you love my papa and me. I think he loves you, too."

Lissa reached for the next limb, her own tears smarting her eyes. Harry did not know about Gabriel's note, that his pact with her was at an end.

"Lisha? Are you still there?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I won't leave until I have you in my arms. That's a promise."

"Oh," he said, sounding relieved. "Can we keep talking? I am not so scared when I hear your voice."

"Yes, of course, Harry. We shall keep talking the whole time, if you like." Lissa squeezed into a narrow space of limbs, hauling herself up yet again. "What would you like to talk about, Harry? The birds?"

"No. My papa."

"He loves you very much, you know. Even now he is searching for you."

"He told me yesterday that he had to save you from someone. Like a knight of old."

"He said that?" Lissa thought of yesterday's scene with Gabriel and Langford... of Gabriel's heated kiss. "After today, Harry," she said, "there will be no more need for your papa to save me from a certain someone. Today, at precisely three o'clock, actually, I will say goodbye to this someone, and your papa, I think, will be glad about that." Lissa knew she was rambling, and was perhaps saying far too much to a young boy who had no clear idea of what she was nattering about. But Harry wished to hear her voice, and so she'd just let the words come.

"I cannot wait for the afternoon, then," said Harry.

Finally, Lissa reached the spot where Harry teetered far out on the shaky limb.

"Hello, Harry," she whispered, at last able to see him fully. He was trembling, clutching the limb with all his strength.

"Have you climbed many trees, Lisha? I did not know a lady could climb a tree."

Lissa let out a shaky laugh. "I've never climbed a tree, Harry, until now. And only for you did I climb this one."

Far below her, Lissa caught a view of the river, its depths beneath the tree looking dark and ominous. Her laugh of a second ago caught sharply in her throat. She felt instantly dizzy and sick, the age-old malady of vertigo gripping her. There came the familiar panic in her breast, the roar of blood in her ears, and the pinpoints of light in front of her eyes.

Lissa clutched at a handhold, pressing her body back against the trunk of the tree and sucking in huge gasps of air.
Dear Lord,
she prayed,
do not let me get sick here in this tree. Not now.

"Lisha? You look scared."

Lissa forced her eyes open. She willed herself not to look down, not to completely crumble with paralyzing fear.

"I—I am fine, Harry," she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. It seemed her vocal chords had shrunk. Stark terror was gripping every organ in her body now. "I—I need for you to come to
me,
Harry, f—for you to shimmy back on the branch, toward me. I'll reach for you. I'll grab hold of you. I promise."

The boy frowned, looking back at her over one shoulder. "Can't," he said. "I—I'm too scared, Lisha. Please help me."

Lissa's stomach threatened to revolt. She felt pinned to her spot... and yet, how could she leave Harry out on that limb, alone and terrified?

She took another gulp of air, blinking hard, pushing past her fear, and then, with one huge leap of faith she moved away from the trunk of the tree and eased her way out onto the branch.

"When I reach you, Harry," she said, "I want you to turn about and then throw your arms around me and hang on tight. Do you hear?"

Harry nodded.

Lissa inched closer. She was teetering on the aged branch, grasping nothing but the branch itself.

She felt it sag with her weight.

"Now, Harry.
Turn now."

He did, whipping his small body around and throwing himself against her chest. Lissa, mouth gaping wide in sheer terror, wrapped one arm about him and held tightly to the branch with her other hand.

The force of his slight weight was just enough to unbalance her.

Lissa swayed to one side, nearly toppling, then forced herself to simply trust that she could overcome her vertigo, the slim branch, and all the odds that mounted against them.

By slow degrees her body reclaimed its balance, and then, bit by bit, Lissa inched herself and little Harry back toward the trunk of the tree.

Just as she did so, the branch gave a hideous
crack
of sound, buckling beneath their weight.

Lissa, Harry clinging to her, fell five feet, crashing into another branch beneath them. She felt the whip of leaves in her face, the sting of short twigs scraping at her cheeks. But the sting in her right hand was worst of all. She'd clung to the branch until it snaked out from beneath them, and as they fell the skin from her hand was dragged over the length of the aged branch.

Lissa gasped.

Harry, his arms wrapped tightly about her neck, buried his face against her left shoulder and let out a scream.

It seemed to Lissa that his scream rent the very air.

We're going to die,
she thought, her left arm burning from holding so tightly to the boy.
We're going to crash through these hideous branches... down into the depths of the Dove... and there is nothing I can do.

Lissa thought of Gabriel then. Of how much he loved his son. Such thoughts were the last Lissa had as she and Harry plummeted downward....

Chapter 15

Gabriel, looking for his son, scouted the area near the river hut and frowned mightily as that too proved unproductive. Where
was
the boy?

He shot out the door, racing for the river's edge and cursing himself and the boy's governess for not keeping a better eye on the precocious lad. Harry had always been given to moods of fitfulness. Perhaps it was because of the unpredictable infancy he'd endured; mayhap it was due to his heritage on his mother's side. Gabriel had no idea.

But he did know that Jenny had been given to acts of outrageousness. She'd also been prone to dizzying highs and abject lows. Her mood could never be compassed. She was either giddily alight or was cast into a deep, emotional abyss. The woman's moods had changed so frequently that even Gabriel, who had been exceedingly patient with her, had been hard-pressed to even understand her.

Could Harry have inherited his mother's wild emotions? Was the boy's disappearance now a result of those riotous feelings? Gabriel hoped not. He would hate for Harry to have been bequeathed the very things in his mother that Jenny had so despised. She'd hated her mercurial moods, and had warred against them all of her young and tragic life. She had loved Gabriel one moment and then hated him in the next. In fact, she'd been the perfect victim for the fortune-hungry Langford. She'd become so much pap in Langford's unfeeling hands. Gabriel choked on bile just thinking of how Langford had wooed Jenny only because of her fortune, then had cut all ties with her once he realized Jenny's father was in dun territory due to his sickness for gambling.

Gabriel forced the ugly past from his mind, racing away from the lodge and calling out for Harry. He racked his brain, trying to remember every bit of every moment of the recent past—anything that might aid him in knowing where Harry might have wandered.

It was then he thought of their picnic lunch alongside the river with Lissa. She had told Harry of a nest she'd found, of the eggs that were nestled deep inside of it. Harry had been mesmerized by the story.

Thinking of that moment, Gabriel headed upstream, toward the old, ugly tree that spread its branches out and over the deepest parts of the Dove River. He prayed that tree wasn't where Harry had gone....

* * *

Gabriel heard a crash of limbs and the scream of his son just as he came to the base of the tree.

"
Harry!"
he cried, and in a second he hoisted his body up and off the ground, grabbing for a stout limb. "Harry? Speak to me, son!" Gabriel yelled, trying to see up into the boughs of the tree. It was blastedly dark within the branches, and there were so many twisting, old limbs he could not see the entire way up.

"We are here, Papa. Lisha and me. A limb caught us."

"Lissa's with you?" Gabriel called, climbing still. He was climbing so fast and so furiously that the leafy branches were snapping in his face, cutting his skin. He cared not.

"We are here, Gabriel."

It seemed to Gabriel that her voice came to him straight out of heaven, so sweet and welcome was its sound.

"I—I can see the top of your head," she continued, a disembodied voice within the darkness of the old tree, but one that pumped comfort into his soul. She was above him, somewhere, holding Harry safe.

"If you turn your face—yes, that's it," she said, "and look up, to your right..."

Gabriel did, and then he saw her. Just as he'd imagined, his son was tucked securely in her arms. Her hair was in disarray. There was a slight trickle of blood from a scratch on her left cheek.

"Dearest God," Gabriel breathed. "You are not hurt, are you, either of you?"

Lissa carefully shook her head, as though she feared any huge movement would send them falling again. "No broken bones, I believe."

"Lisha came to save me, Papa. She climbed all the way to the top of the tree. Just for me."

"She is very brave," Gabriel said, hoisting himself up to the limb just beneath them, "considering her fear of heights." From his point on the lower limb, Gabriel's face was adjacent to Lissa's. Without even thinking, he lifted one hand and brushed a twig from her hair, smoothing a haphazard lock off her brow. "If you hold very still, I'll take Harry from you, climb down, and then come back for you."

"For once, m'lord, I do believe I shall listen to your directive."

Gabriel reached up, capturing Harry's little body in his arms, then sliding him down off Lissa's lap. The boy clung to his father, holding tight as Gabriel climbed down limb by limb. Once on the ground, he hugged his son close, placed a solid kiss to the top of his head, then climbed back up for Lissa.

She'd managed to climb down to the limb he'd just vacated. "Here, allow me to help you, m'lady." Gently, he took her hand in his, the two of them backing down out of the tree together.

"You have a very curious and adventurous son, m'lord," she said as they drew closer to the ground.

"And it appears he has a very true friend in you. Thank you, Lissa. You saved his life this day, of that I am certain."

Once on the ground, the three of them moved quickly out from under the shadow of the tree. Harry appeared fearful that he would soon suffer a tongue lashing for spiriting away, but Gabriel only scooped the boy up in his arms, pressing his face into Harry's blond curls.

"I am sorry, Papa, but I wanted to see the nesht...
nest."

"Ssh," said Gabriel. "We will talk later about what lesson you should have learned from your adventure. For now, we must escort Lady Lissa home and—"

"No," Lissa interrupted. "I shall find my own way home. I insist. You must hurry back to your own house and sound the alarm so that your servants and Miss Fabersham can know Harry is safe. Besides, there is something I must do this day," she said, reaching out to run one hand against Harry's cheek.

Harry grinned at her.