A Thin Line (8 page)

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Authors: Tammy Jo Burns

Tags: #regency romance, #Historical Romance, #disability romance, #blind romance, #duke romance

BOOK: A Thin Line
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“You’re right.”
 
He saw the determination in his grandmother’s eyes and knew she would not give up on the topic until he confided in her.
 
He had always been close to her and she could read him only too well.
 
“Fine, there were two men earlier today fighting over a woman in White’s.
 
One of the men made derogatory comments.
 
At the time I stayed out of it because I felt it wasn’t my business.
 
I never heard the woman’s name, so I did nothing.”

“You found out this evening that you knew the woman?”

“Mikala,” he muttered before taking a deep drink of brandy.
 

“Oh dear.
 
You must warn Derek.”

“I know.
 
However, she is staying with Richard and Drucilla for the time being.”

“Tell Richard as well.
 
Do you truly worry for her welfare?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“You should tell Mikala as well.
 
She needs to be able to protect herself, and if any young woman can, it is she.
 
She also needs to prepare herself for any talk.
 
If you pieced it together, do not think you are the only one.”

“You’re right.
 
She and I also had a strange conversation during a dance.”

“Really?”

“Yes.
 
She wished me and Lady Clarissa happiness.”

“She has moved on,” his grandmother sounded almost sad.

“It appears so and I’m glad for it,” he tossed back the rest of his brandy.
 

“Are you trying to convince me and yourself?”

“I’m retiring for the night.
 
I’ll see you tomorrow sometime,” he said ignoring her comment.
 
He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Pleasant dreams, grandson,” he heard her call as he left the room.

Instead of pleasant dreams, nightmares plagued him.
 
Kala kept calling to him, screaming for help in her raspy voice.
 
He could hear a man laughing sinisterly, but could never locate them.
 
He ran about an unfamiliar countryside until he came to a small cottage.
 
He heard a scream from inside and threw his body against the door, knocking it in.
 
Blood covered the room and a woman lay on the floor.
 
Blood covered her as well.
 
Her eyes were open, but saw nothing.
 
He had seen the death stare too many times to mistake it for anything else.
 
He moved closer to her and fell to his knees as recognition hit.
 

He woke startled, breathing hard and drenched in sweat.
 
He looked around the room. Recognizing his bedroom Gabe fell back against the mattress still sweating and rubbed his hands over his face.
 
He had been dreaming, but why had the focus been Kala?
 
His grandmother claimed to have premonitions.
 
Were they like what he had just experienced?
 
Never before had he had such a vivid dream, except once.
 
Years ago, when they were all still children he had dreamed Kala had broken her arm.
 
He didn’t tell anyone and a few days later a horse threw her and she did indeed break her arm.
 
He had also dreamed of that fateful day he rescued her and received his scar.
 
Gabe shivered at the memory he had suppressed for years.
 
Had he inherited the sight of seeing from his grandmother?
 
If so, why did they only involve Kala?
 
Clarissa seemed to be having some sort of problem, why didn’t he dream about her?
 
More importantly, was Kala truly in danger?
 

He stood shakily and walked nude across the room to the water pitcher.
 
Gabe poured tepid water into the bowl and splashed his face.
 
He looked into the mirror over the bowl.
 
His eyes still looked haunted.
 
The mirror reflected the scar that covered most of his face, and he studied it intently.
 
The scar he had received fighting over Kala’s honor so many years ago.

Other scars dotted the rest of his body, but they could be hidden.
 
Besides, none mattered more to him than this one.
 
He shook his head to scatter his thoughts and cursed his overactive mind.
 
No danger followed her.
 
Her most serious problem involved an overzealous suitor.
 
Gabe would warn Derek and Richard and let them take care of the situation.
 
He had far more serious things to deal with at this point in time.
 

***

Kala awoke late the next morning, exhausted, her eyes gritty.
 
She found herself still annoyed with all the men from last night.
 
They acted like little boys keeping a careful eye on their favorite toy.
 
She went downstairs to find food to break her fast.
 
Enjoying the peace and quiet of being the only one there, she took her time and read the newspaper avoiding the gossip column.
 
Instead, she read the business section and the articles that discussed the war.
 

She had spent a restless, sleepless night tossing and turning and pondering everything she heard between that woman, Gabe, and then the other man.
 
Gabe’s treacherous behavior disappointed and hurt her.
 
She had always thought him to be such an upright man, having fought beside Admiral Nelson.
 
Why was he doing this?
 
Should she confront him and give him the opportunity to explain?
 
She dismissed that thought as she remembered his earlier refusal of any involvement.
 

She rested her head in her hands in confusion.
 
Tension infused her shoulders and neck, causing her head to throb.
 
Attempting to ease the tightness, she rolled her shoulders.

One thing had become clear after last night, she would not be marrying.
 
She would rather be an old spinster with no one to answer to than be treated as she had been last night.
 
Also, if truth be known, she would settle for nothing less than love, and she lacked that emotion with all three men currently vying for her attention.
 
She refused to tie anyone up in a loveless marriage.
 
Mikala also refused to be a burden on anyone, and that meant finding a means of support.
 
Perhaps she could open a finishing school for young ladies.
 

“No mother would entrust their daughter to you,” she chided herself.
 
This would take some time and research.
 
She had a good head for numbers and the business section of the paper always made much more sense to her than etiquette rules ever had.
 
Men did not do business with women.
 
She would have to adopt a male persona for her business transactions.
 
This might be more difficult than she had originally thought.

Kala left the breakfast room, taking the paper with her and retired to the library.
 
She settled down on the sofa and began reading the business section in earnest making mental notes as she went.
 
The morning passed rather quickly as she made plans for her future.
 
She had several ideas that she wanted to investigate further.
 
Kala enjoyed a pleasant visit with Dru when she came down then went upstairs to change into her riding habit after asking the butler to have Venus brought round.
 

She stood at the bottom of the stairs pulling on her riding gloves when a knock sounded at the door.
 
Thompson opened the door allowing Southerby to enter.
 

“Just the man I want to talk to.
 
What were you doing last night?”

“Not now.”
 
Thompson again opened the door and allowed Dewhurst entrance as well.

“Good afternoon, Lord Dewhurst.”

“Miss Simmons.
 
My, don’t you look fetching.”

“Thank you.”
 

“I came for that ride you promised me, Miss Simmons,” Southerby interrupted the conversation.

“Venus should be ready.
 
Thompson?”

“Yes, Miss Kala.”

“Oh, but I wanted to take you about in my phaeton,” Dewhurst said with a whine to his voice.

“I am sorry, but I had already promised this afternoon’s ride to Lord Southerby,” she answered a bit coolly.
 
“Perhaps another time.
 
Southerby, shall we?”

“Of course.
 
Dewhurst,” he nodded his head at the man as he followed Kala outside.
 
If it were possible, Dewhurst seemed to reek of anger.
 
How could he be angry over a simple horse ride?
 
Kala mentally scoffed at the man and his manner.
 

“Thank you,” Kala nodded at the footman that gave her a leg up.
 
She saw that Dewhurst left the house and had climbed into his phaeton before she and Southerby turned the other direction towards Hyde Park.
 
Today a groom followed at a discreet distance for propriety’s sake more than likely per Derek or Richard’s instruction.
 
Her companion chuckled as they left Grosvenor Square.
 
“What do you find so amusing, my lord?”

“That was really bad form Kala.”

“Perhaps, but if he wanted to ride with us, he should have brought his horse.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“He’s not on my bad side.
 
He’s just not. . .”

“Not me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, my lord, particularly after last night.
 
I would appreciate an explanation for your behavior.”
 
She noticed that he stiffened a bit.

“I am sorry, but I cannot do that.”

“Oh, no you don’t.
 
You and McKenzie both acted strangely.
 
Then Hawkescliffe interrogated me as to why I had allowed Dewhurst to escort me.
 
Now, kindly explain, or you can hie yourself off as well.”

“Dewhurst said some unpleasant things about you at White’s.
 
I just wanted to watch out for you.
 
I seem to remember Hawkescliffe being there as well.
 
He must have overheard the conversation and realized who Dewhurst had been referring to when you showed up in his company.
 
McKenzie I cannot speak for.”

“I see.
 
Well, I’m flattered that you wanted to look after me, but I can take care of myself.
 
I hunt, ride, and fire a pistol with deadly accuracy.”

“Well, it seems you are not the helpless female that some are.”

“Definitely not.”
 
They entered the park and headed toward the Serpentine, following it around until they reached Rotten Row.
 
Kala wore a jaunty little hat that matched her sapphire riding habit.
 
Her hair had been braided and coiled about her head.
 
“So, my lord, how good of a rider are you?”

“Justin, please.
 
And I’ve been known to win a few races.”

“Really?
 
Why don’t you prove it?” Kala called over her shoulder as she urged Venus into a gallop.
 
The wind rushed past her and ripped the bonnet from her hair.
 
She could not have cared less.
 
The strength of Venus beneath her rejuvenated her spirit.
 
She glanced behind her and found herself a length ahead of Justin, albeit she had cheated a bit.

She turned around and the smile around her lips died a little at the dark figure at the end of the run.
 
The man is involved in treachery
, she reminded herself.
 
She pasted a smile on her flushed face, and pulled up as she neared the end.
 
Justin finally caught up with her.

“You’re a bruising rider, Kala.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Justin,” she laughed, unaware of how her altered voice affected the nearby men.

“It is,” he gave her a charming smile that should have caused her heart to somersault and her toes to curl.
 
Nothing.

Too bad the same could not have happened when she turned back to the dark man with the menacing look on his face.
 
Her heart careened madly and she suddenly felt hot all over.
 
You’re just exerted from the race
, she told herself.

“Miss Simmons, Southerby.”

“Hawkescliffe,” Southerby greeted.

Kala merely inclined her head.
 
“Hello, Hawkescliffe,” she greeted him with aloofness.
 
He seemed taken aback by her tone.
 
She smiled a little at the shock he couldn’t quite hide.
 
“Have you developed a psychic ability?”

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