Love Me Always (30 page)

Nick stepped to the older woman and grasped her hands. “Patsy. How are you faring?”

“I’m...slowly copin’ with my Timmy’s tragic departure.”

“Once again, you have my sympathy. If ever you need anything, let me know.”

“Your Grace? Could I speak with ya? It’s most important, I assure ya.”

He motioned his hand and she entered the room, keeping her gaze lowered. She continued to wring her hands against her middle, and now he realized she nibbled on her bottom lip so much it turned red.

After he closed the door, she met his gaze. “What is it, Patsy?”

“Timmy...” Her lips trembled and moisture gathered in her eyes.

Gregg stood beside her and patted her back gently. “Go on. What about your husband?”

Her gaze darted from Nick to his brothers then rested back on him. She licked her lips. “I had to tell ye. This couldn’t be put off a moment longer.” Her chest rose and fell with her deep breath. “Before my husband died, I think he said the name of the person responsible for the accident.”

Nick inhaled sharply. Both Gregg and Ian’s gaze snapped to his. His throat suddenly turned dry, so he swallowed. “What name did he say?”

“He said...” A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it. “He mumbled Miss Martin’s name, Your Grace. There was more Timmy tried to say, but all that came out was
Miss Martin’s… Miss Martin’s…
”

Gregg hissed and scrubbed his hands over his face. Ian narrowed his glare and aimed it toward Nick. The words didn’t sink into Nick’s head as quickly. Either that, or he just couldn’t believe. He
wouldn’t
believe.

Nick shook his head. “You must be mistaken, Patsy. Miss Martin couldn’t possibly—”

Ian grabbed his arm and yanked him. “Nick, would you cease this doubt? All you’re doing is prolonging the inevitable.”

Tightness closed around Nick’s throat as pain speared through his chest. He stiffened his body and fisted his hands. “This does
not
prove a thing,” he growled.

Ian faced Patsy. “What else did he say?”

She wiped another stray tear. “Timmy didn’t say a lot. He was in and out of consciousness for a few hours before he finally died.” She sniffed. “But he kept mumblin’ the words
Miss Martin
, and he repeated
accident
. What else could I assume?”

“Exactly.” Ian swung around and crossed his arms over his chest, meeting Nick’s gaze through narrowed eyes. “What else could she conclude?” He arched his brow. “It’s what I’ve been saying all along, and it’s what her father has mentioned. That girl isn’t in her right mind. She needs to be put away in an institution before something else happens.”

Confusion pounded in Nick’s head and threatened to break his skull. He squeezed his eyes closed.
I need a strong drink.
Yet he hadn’t touched the poison in several years. There was no way he would believe this nonsense. Foolishness – all of it!

Taking a refreshing breath, he looked at Patsy. “Is this all you have for me?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He walked her to the door and let her out. After it clicked closed, Gregg and Ian began squawking – shouting – talking about things that didn’t register in Nick’s brain. He didn’t want the words to. All he could think about was finding Catherine and holding her. Promising her everything would be all right. He wouldn’t let Ian’s ranting go any further than the study.

The allegations were too...preposterous. Where they pointing the finger just because she wasn’t part of their class? He didn’t think that was the situation, yet the hammering in his head wouldn’t let him think straight. He clamped his hands over his ears, holding the throb from combusting. The voices of his brothers sounded a crescendo. “Cease this insanity,” he shouted.

Turning, he peeled his eyes open. Both brothers stared at him with wide expressions. Ian’s face was still drawn in a scowl, and Gregg’s saddened look tore at his heart. Obviously, Gregg held strong feelings for Catherine as well. Perhaps the two of them could put their heads together to discover why the blame had been aimed at her.

Ragged breaths only made his chest ache that much more. He lowered his hands to his sides. “If you two want to argue, do it without me. I’ll be retiring to my room. I don’t wish any company for the remainder of the evening. Is this understood?”

Gregg nodded. Ian only arched a brow.

He turned and hurried out of the study toward his bedchambers. Agony clenched in his chest, threatening to choke him. Right now all he needed was Catherine.

And nothing would stop him this time.

* * * *

Catherine snapped alert, pinning her gaze on the opened window in her room. The moon floated high in the sky. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and lifted to a sitting position. Around her, the room spun and she braced her hands on the mattress. Thickness clouded her head and she gulped in deep breaths to clear her mind.

Running her hands along her bodice, she realized she hadn’t changed into her nightgown. Her hands stilled. How did she get in her bed? She didn’t remember even retiring. The last thing she remembered was setting out in search of her father. She recalled looking inside rooms, but the harder she tried to remember past that, her mind fogged.

After the spinning in her head slowed, she scooted to the edge of the bed and slid her feet to the floor. As she stood, the room tilted again, and she swayed, reaching for the bed to steady her.

What is happening?
The last time she’d felt this bad was the morning she found her mother dead. Although this spinning feeling has been with her off and on since she came to the Fielding estate.

Groaning, she massaged her head, hoping to make the memories disappear. She’d only been really ill a few times in her life, but this went beyond anything she’d experienced. It drugged her body to near exhaustion.

She rolled her head on her shoulders, wishing her body didn’t ache as if she’d been in bed for days. In fact, a few places felt bruises and beaten. Even her skin chafed.

In the room, a noise broke the silence. Catching her breath, she searched through the shadows dancing in the corners of her chambers, her heart picking up rhythm. Someone sighed. But it wasn’t just any sigh. Nick’s sigh and his alone had always made her heart flutter.

Sitting in the chair he’d fallen asleep in before, rested the man her heart would never stop loving. And just as the last time he’d been there, his head was tilted back, his mouth parted as heavy breaths came out.

On unsteady legs, she weaved her way through the room toward him. Kneeling beside him, she touched his thigh. “Nick?”

He jumped to a sitting position, his eyes blinking in a fast rhythm. Finally, his attention stopped on her and he smiled. “My darling, Kitty.” He stroked her cheek.

She cuddled against his palm. Pain shot through her and she flinched.

He pulled back, his gaze dropping to her cheek. “What happened to you?” He swiped his finger across her cheekbone more tender this time.

Another sting burned her skin. “Ouch.” She touched the area that hurt, and her fingers breezed over a lump.

“What happened?” he repeated.

“I...I don’t know.”

He circled his arms around her and pulled her up on his lap. “You look as if someone has hit you.”

She laughed lightly, confusion swimming in her head. “If they did, I don’t remember.” She took his hand, brought it up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “It’s nothing, I assure you.” She smiled. “Nick? Why are you here?”

He smiled. “I’ve missed you and couldn’t wait a moment longer to see you.” He nodded toward the bed. “Unfortunately, when I arrived, you were asleep.”

The ache in her heart eased. She stroked the side of his face. “I’m happy to see you. And I have missed you as well.”

“Then show me.”

She didn’t have to wait for him to tell her what he’d meant, because he pulled her face down to his. Their lips met, and at first she cringed because of the shooting pain from the contact. Whatever she’d done to her body, it wasn’t letting her enjoy. But soon Nick’s gentle strokes and loving kiss made the pain disappear.

Clinging to his shirt, she answered his kisses, letting him know how much she loved him. Oh, how she’d wanted this. Needed this. Craved it for too long.

“Nick,” she sighed, sinking against him, winding her arms around his neck.

His kisses drugged her...either that or the fuzziness still clogged her head. “Oh, Nick. Am I dreaming?”

With his hands holding her head, he pulled away slightly. Since the shadows wouldn’t let her see the color of his eyes, so she gazed at his lips. They stretched wider.

“I certainly don’t wish that torture on either of us. I hope this isn’t a dream, for I want nothing more than to hold you at this moment.”

Sighing, she leaned in for another of his earth-shattering kisses, but a loud commotion echoed through the hall outside her room. Nick stilled, as did she. Within moments, the noise became recognizable. Raised voices floated through the house, sounding panicked.

“What is going on?” Nick lifted her from his lap and stood.

Her body swayed and she grabbed for the back of the chair, praying she would soon gain her strength. Had Nick’s kisses sapped what little she had? Yet this feeling wasn’t what usually happened while kissing Nick. “It sounds like a mob of people downstairs.”

“It certainly does. Whatever is going on, it doesn’t sound good.”

He marched to the door and opened it, peeked both ways before hurrying out. She smiled, loving how he was still being cautious.

Taking a couple of cleansing breaths, she walked as best she could to the opened door. Voices were louder now, but still high-pitched. On shaky legs, and with a hammering heartbeat, she pushed herself toward the staircase. Below stood Nick and his brothers, Gertrude, and two laundry maids. The elderly aunt had her arm around one of the maids. Both maids were crying hysterically.

Nick clasped the hands of one of them. “Please, Sara. I cannot understand you. You must calm yourself.”

The maid shook her head, her eyes wide and filled with tears. “Your Grace...somethin’ terrible has happened.”

He nodded. “What has happened?”

Sara wiped her wet cheeks. “It’s...Colonel Martin. He’s been beaten. It happened earlier this evening, but he’s still alive. He’s been mumbling constantly, whether from pain or delusion. We need to send for the doctor, quickly.”

Catherine’s heartbeat took on a different rhythm. Panic flowed through her, as did worry for a parent who’d been upsetting her lately. Who would do such a thing?

Nick shook his head. “Indeed we will send for a doctor posthaste, Sara. Can you tell us what happened? Do you – or the colonel know who could have done this?”

She released a few more sobs as she met the frightened stare of the other maid for a brief second, then both servants turned their attention toward Catherine. Sara nodded, keeping hold of Catherine’s gaze.

“Yes, Your Grace. I think...we think it was the colonels’ daughter, Miss Catherine.”

Catherine gasped loudly and covered her mouth with her hand. All heads turned up to her.
No!
They must be mistaken. She wouldn’t... How could she? Then again, she didn’t remember doing anything earlier this evening. In fact...most of the afternoon had been a complete blur. The fog in her mind told her something wasn’t quite right.

She looked at Nick, silently begging for help. Pain etched his eyes, and lines of confusion creased his forehead.

Ian growled and fisted his hands. “That’s enough! I’ll have no more of this. Nick, something has to be done about her before she kills one of us.”

Nick’s head swung toward his brother, his cold gaze piercing him. “This is
not
the time, Ian.”

“This is the perfect time.” He looked back up at Catherine and pointed. “There stands the culprit. She’s not in her right mind and it’s time to get the authorities involved.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart ceased beating. Energy drained from her head, going all through her body to her toes. Dizziness finished filling her mind. As her body fell to the ground, her vision turned black.

Chapter Seventeen

Slowly, the fog in Catherine’s mind cleared and sounds around her became familiar. Her body continued to ache as if she’d been pushed down the stairs and trampled. She struggled with trying to remember what had happened. In a rush, everything came back to her. The maid. Someone beating her father. And Ian accusing her of doing something absolutely horrid.

She blinked her eyes open. Faces around her came into view. Nick held her against his chest, rocking her as he dabbed her face with a cold cloth.

“Catherine? Are you all right?”

She raised her shaky hand and pressed fingers against her throbbing temple. “I think so. What happened?”

“You swooned and hit your head on the railing.”

Studying his face, she recognized doubt. Although he tried to peer at her with loving care, she could tell he doubted his own feelings. Then again, she didn’t understand anything herself. Had she beaten her father? Nothing made sense anymore.