Marriage By Arrangement (12 page)

Cold certainty spread to Cailin’s chest. “Hennings remained here during the masquerade? But not Rafe?”

“Aye, Your Grace. Rafe scooted Hennings out of here like he was a bad little boy.”

All the servants stared at her. She must not show her distress. She hid her shivers beneath the billowing silk costume. She’d asked both men to watch over Avondale during the masquerade. Obviously, Hennings believed he needn’t take orders from her. The dowager paid his wages. Thank God Rafe was on the job. “Thank you, Celeste. Where are the men now?”

Celeste lifted her apron to half hide her face. “That what be so funny. Hennings, he heard the tall clock chime, and he took off like a hare chased by a dog. That scared he looked. He didn’t even need Rafe’s hand on the back of his neck.”

“I see. Thank you.” She worked to keep her shoulders from slumping and walked stiffly from the cheery kitchen. She well knew the buzz of conversation following her departure meant she hadn’t handled her search at all well. Nor had she managed to hide her dismay.

She cared little of what the servants thought, except for the need to keep them from gossip. And she’d given them fodder. She clinched her clammy hands. She must find Avondale before he hurt himself.

And what if Bloody Billy was really after him? What if the man really was a threat? What if her husband lay wounded or dead somewhere on the grounds? Once again, the castle would be without protection…and she would be without a husband. Their baby would be without a father.

She hurried back to the ballroom, but found it empty except for the musicians packing their instruments in cases. The silent room with its drooping decorations mirrored her wilting heart. Alone and used. Cold fear pulsed its way to her hands and feet, turning them into blocks of ice.

Where was Avondale? What had he done this time? Would she be able to fix the problems he’d created? Was he safe? She’d have to assign Rafe to stay by Avondale’s side day and night. She could trust the big Scot. But the man did have to sleep.

Was Avondale becoming a threat? Who knew what he would do if he had another spell? What terrible demons drove him? She must summon her courage to find out. She wrapped her arms around the precious child in her womb. Was his inheritance in jeopardy? He had a legitimate claim to the title and lands.

She feared, not only for Avondale, but for herself and for their child.

Her slippers thumped as she ascended the main staircase. Absently she touched the round golden balls that held the sequined masks looped to the banister. Since her wedding night, she’d fancied Avondale wore just such a mask.

Now she must unmask him. Discover his secrets.

Alone together, he seemed kind, sweet, and attentive to her every desire. He made her feel cherished and loved beyond what she’d ever dreamed.

But when he left the sanctuary of their bedchamber, he metamorphosed into a different man. He was not one man, but many. When in company with his courtly attendants, he grew haughty towards her. With his mother, he simply ignored her. With Papa and Brody, he seemed one of the family, though he seldom included her in the circle. While on the hunt, whether fox or boar, friends mentioned he was highly competitive.

She’d taken to spying on him when he withdrew to the library. He’d pace, book laxly held in one hand, and talk to himself. Almost as if he spoke to someone else.

That frightened her so the hair on her head stood up.

She reached the top of the staircase and paused, looking over the balcony, down the curve of the stairs, and into the enormous entry room with its stuffed stag and great, heavy paintings of her forebears. Now shadowed with low burnt candles, the place looked as haunted as she felt.

She’d never before thought such things of her home. Had Avondale brought this eerie atmosphere to her castle? Living with the duke shook her faith. She fingered the heavy diamond necklace hanging from her throat. She wouldn’t find her answers standing in the hallway. She turned, strode down the corridor to her suite of rooms, and placed her hand on the long, burnished door handle.

Since she’d been unable to find Avondale, she’d wait for him, and no longer be put aside by his wonderful lovemaking. Tonight, she’d discover what drove him.

But if he were hurt or dead, life would become empty, without texture or substance.

A light tap on her arm startled her from her thoughts. She spun to face Rafe.

The burly blacksmith-turned-guard bowed, most of his muscles hidden by the satin suit that gleamed in the candlelight. “Lady Cailin, might I have a word with you?”

“Of course, Rafe.” She caught her breath. “For such a big man, you do move quietly. I didn’t hear you approach.”

“Aye, Milady.” He moved closer. “We found the duke near the forest. Hennings took him to yer rooms. He’d had another spell. This one looked verra bad.”

“Oh, dear. I must go to him.” She turned and took a step, but Rafe’s strong hand grasped her arm.

“He hurt the Lady Fiona.”

Cailin drooped. Her body felt old and heavy. “Where is she? Is she hurt badly?”

“I think she went to her rooms. Nay, she was more scared than hurt.” His eyes glinted and his mouth looked grim.

“Did anyone see what happened?”

“Nay, Milady. She were alone when the duke grabbed her.”

Cailin gasped. “Avondale grabbed her?”

“Aye, Milady. Ye know I will do anything for ye. Anything. I serve ye with me whole self. I hold nothing back.”

She could barely hear Rafe’s words over the hammering of her heart. She leaned towards him. “What are you suggesting?”

The candle cast dark shadows over his rugged face. “The duke is dangerous, Milady. He could hurt ye.” His gaze slid from her face to her waist. “Or yer babe.”

Would Avondale hurt her? Surely not. And yet, he had grabbed Fiona and dragged her to the woods. For what purpose? She could not fathom his motives. But, she would never allow him to hurt their child. And yet, he was so very strong.

“Perhaps the duke could meet with an accident.”

15

“Avondale.”

He looked up, his eyes heavy lidded. “Cailin, love. Where have you been?”

His gold satin trousers looked wet, dirty, and stained from the knee down. He wore no coat. His waistcoat was missing and his silk shirt hung carelessly open at the neck. The splotches of grass stain that had bled into his shirt and trousers told her he’d been outside.

Rafe spoke the truth.

“Why did you disappear from the masquerade?”

Arm on the cushion of his chair, he propped his chin in his hand. “I say, love, I’ve been right here in our bedchamber waiting for you.”

“No, Avondale, you haven’t.”

He looked like a small boy caught with his finger in the pigeon pie. His wonderful lips thinned. “But I must have been here.”

She saw no point in arguing. While she reinforced her courage, she struck flint to steel and lit the candles, stirred up a fire in the chill room, and sat stiffly in a straight chair close to where he slouched in his wingback.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “Please talk to me. Tell me what is going on.”

A stubborn expression pulled at his face. But he leaned close to her, and began to lightly stroke her arm.

She moved away. Tonight she would not be distracted.

He sat straighter, his chocolate eyes dark. “Yes, let’s talk.” Then he appeared to change his mind, drew her closer, and began to nuzzle her hair.

Gently she pushed him away. “No, Avondale. Tell me the truth.”

His eyebrows rose. “Come, Cailin. I’ve a need to more than talk with you.” Suddenly he stood, swept her into his arms, and strode to their bed. As if nothing else in the world mattered, he placed her in the middle, pulled off her slipper, and massaged her right instep.

Though her heart ached, he looked so boyish and eager, she couldn’t help but smile.

He unbuttoned his stained shirt.

She stopped his hand. “Tell me. Where did you disappear to tonight?”

His loving expression changed. He dropped his hand from his mostly unbuttoned shirt. “Your guard dog didn’t follow me did he? I managed to elude him.” His smile suddenly looked odd and off-kilter.

The slight comfort she’d taken in his earlier actions faded.

“You see, you cannot control me. I may live from the good bounty of your father, but you cannot command me.”

She shrank back into the cushions. The flash of anger in his eyes surprised her. Though he’d fathered the child nestled inside her womb, how little she knew Avondale. “I do not desire to master you. I merely want to know where you went. You’ve been outside. You might get hurt…alone in the dark.”

He turned on her and gripped her wrist so that it burned. Heat penetrated deep within the ring of his fingers. “Have I not been the best of husbands to you? Have I not fulfilled my husbandly duty and given you what you wanted, an heir?” He dropped her wrist, and paced the room. “Or is it I who wanted the heir?” He scowled. “And yet you must know where I am at all times. You are not my mother.” He stopped and glared. “Call off your watch dog. I will not be treated like a child.”

She fell against the pillows, confusion swirling inside her brain. This was a side of Avondale she hadn’t expected. She must instruct Rafe to be discreet. Perhaps he should move into the adjoining apartment. Protect her and her unborn child if Avondale became violent.

His voice rose. “I gave you my title and my protection. For no fault of my own, I married below my station. Now I live in this awkward, back country castle. What more do you want from me!” His face grew red.

Her heart slid to her stomach. Disappointment swept her smile away. Not only was he unstable, she…she hadn’t pleased him. A cold fog settled inside her breast.

He rattled on. “I do all this so the royal mother can keep her estates and her reputation. Dash it all, what do I get in return? You order a big brute of a man to guard me. I will not become a prisoner in this castle.” His leashed strength, clearly visible in his bunched muscles, waited to break free.

She sat upright and braced her arms back against the pillows. “Avondale, Rafe follows you to keep you safe. I don’t understand your behavior.”

His anger crumpled. “You don’t understand? You don’t understand! What about me?”

Fear evaporated at the expression of pain on his face.

He clenched his upraised fists. “How would you like to wake up in a place you don’t comprehend how you got to? You have no inkling why you are there. You find yourself with a blighter you don’t even know, or with someone you’re afraid you may have injured.” He knelt beside her in the bed, his knees pressing her thigh.

She reached out and pulled him into her arms. Perhaps, after all, she didn’t want to know what was wrong with him. His problems were too deep. His feelings too intense.

He buried his face in her neck. “I don’t know what happens.” His deep, baritone broke, scraping the edge off his voice. “One minute everything seems fine. The next I find myself in an unusual place…with no memory of how I got there…and no memory of why I’m there.” He jerked upright, grabbed his hair with both hands, and gazed wide-eyed. “And no memory of what I’ve done.”

She tried to simply breathe. One breath in, one breath out. “We’ll conquer this, darling. Together, we’ll find a solution.” She brushed his perspiration damp hair back from his forehead and kissed the top of his thick brown hair. Chills raced through her heart. Avondale’s problems were so hurtfully knotty.

“No. This isn’t something we can work out. When I was a child, the royal mother chased the voices away.”

“Voices?”

Oh God, what kind of man did you let me marry?

He swallowed, clamped his lips, and his eyes grew hooded. “Perhaps we should discuss this in the morning.” His face changed as he thought better of sharing his secretive revelation. Then he blurted, “When I was younger, I felt certain everyone else heard my voices. Then the royal mother decreed that wasn’t so. She said I must keep quiet about the voices. She forbade me to tell anyone. Said if I were declared incompetent, we’d lose everything—title, lands, money.”

She scooted slightly away from his muscular body. She didn’t want to hear about the voices, either. They caused goose bumps to dot her arms and fear to clutch her heart. Yet, she’d been shielded all her life. It was time now to face her responsibility. She must help her husband. She pressed a hand against the side of her mouth. “When do you hear these voices?”

“Not often. Not for a long time. That is, before I married you, I hadn’t heard them for a number of months. Then the royal mother ordered me to marry you.”

Though she’d always known the circumstances of her marriage, to hear them spoken so openly made her cringe inside. She hid her feelings. His problem needed solving, not hers. Every titled lady faced her identical situation. She should have been immune to being treated as property.

A faint smile played over his lips. “I’m glad the royal mother chose you and not Lady Isobel. You are so beautiful. So sweet. So giving. I had no wish to marry. But you are a gift.” He took her tense hand in his warm, gentle one. “And I love you.”

She pushed the vision of Lady Isobel, the rich, skinny, pouting spinster, to the back of her mind. She’d known from babyhood she’d been destined to enter an arranged marriage. She’d believed her love could overcome any barrier. She pulled her hand away. Now she wasn’t so certain. Avondale had seemed a perfect match. And she’d been happy, at least when they were alone. And somehow, she’d thought together they would overcome this problem, and she could make him content. Thought she would have a good marriage. Thought she would make a loving, joyous, normal home for their child. Now, she was not certain happiness could ever be theirs.

Why had Avondale’s voices returned?

“You’re not pleased with me, Avondale. Is that why the voices came back?”

Crystal pools of sorrow filled his brown, puppy eyes. “Oh, no, Cailin.” He traced a finger over her face. “You surpass all my expectations.”

“Then why did the voices return?”