Susan Carroll (40 page)

“You see, my dear, Ewan's father had already
begun arranging his marriage to a rich man's granddaughter, the
beautiful Miss Phaedra Weylin, yet residing in Ireland." Here James
paused to give Phaedra a rueful smile. The smile vanished as he
continued, "Ewan had not the courage to defy his father openly, but
he wanted Julianna to elope with him. My sister loved all of us far
too well to deceive her family in such a manner. Before the
elopement could take place, she confessed everything to us."

James sighed. "I reacted too harshly. I
cursed Ewan, forbade her to ever see him again. Julianna dissolved
into tears and fled to her room. That was the last time I ever saw
her. When I came upstairs from the shop for tea, I found her
gone.

No," he said as though anticipating the
question Phaedra had been about to voice. "She hadn't left to elope
with Ewan. She had only gone, with my mother's permission, to tell
him goodbye. I was angry, and would have gone after her at once;
but my mother said, 'Let be, Jamey. She loves the lad, but Julianna
is a sensible girl. She only wants to see him one last time, bid
him farewell, and give him that little shepherdess she made. We can
always design something else for the Emperor."

James interlaced his hands, his fingers
tightening. "I wasn't concerned about the damned Emperor's
commission. I was worried about my sister, but I allowed my mother
to dissuade me. I waited for her return until the sun went down.
When I saw the darkness gathering outside and she still hadn't come
back, I went after Ewan Grantham."

James's eyes were twin flames as he rounded
the darkest bend of this journey back into his past. "I tracked
Ewan down to his lodgings, and we nigh had a set-to there and then.
He was as furious as I, ranting that I had kept Julianna away from
their rendezvous. That was when I realized he hadn't seen my sister
all day, either. A feeling of dread began to churn in my stomach.
Then Ewan turned pale. He was obviously afraid. ‘If it was not you
who detained Julianna,' he said to me, 'then it must have been
father.

"Ewan didn't want to explain any more than
that, but he finally told me his father had made threats of what he
would do to Julianna if Ewan did not give her up."

"That sounds most likely," Phaedra said.
"From what I have heard, Carleton Grantham was badly in debt. He
needed my grandfather's money desperately, and his son's marriage
to me was the guarantee he would get it."

James nodded. "And Lord Carleton was not the
sort of man to hold any particular regard for human life. When I
thought that Julianna might have been in his hands ... " James
shuddered. "I forced Ewan at once to tell me where his father was.
He said that Lord Carleton had gone out to the Heath to go over
marriage settlements with Sawyer Weylin. As usual, Ewan lacked the
courage to confront his father himself. So I went alone."

James's voice dropped so low it was nearly
inaudible. He closed his eyes. Phaedra reached out to him in a
comforting gesture, but when he opened his eyes, she shrank back.
His gaze fired with a hatred that seared her, although she knew his
rage was not directed at her, but at some shadowy figure from the
past only James could see.

He resumed. "I had no difficulty gaining
entrance to the Heath. The place was strangely empty, not a servant
in sight, no one except for him. Lord Carleton," James spat the
name with loathing. "When I confronted him, he, sneered at me, at
first denying any knowledge of my sister. Then I saw Julianna's
cloak dropped in a heap by the stairs. It was torn as though in a
struggle. Carleton- the cursed devil- just laughed in my face.

"He told me that he did now recall
'entertaining' my sister and could understand why his son Ewan
found the pretty little whore so fascinating. I should have held my
temper, should have found out exactly what he had done with
Julianna, but something exploded inside me." James clenched his
fists. "I could have ripped him apart with my bare hands. I went
for his throat, but he seized a pike from the wall and rushed me
with it. I managed to deflect the tip and grappled with him,
sending him flying back."

Phaedra sat upon the very edge of her seat,
gripping the arm rails while James paused to wipe at the
perspiration beading his brow.

"Dear God, Phaedra, after all these years I
am still not certain how it happened. That damned mace was set on
the wall in those days. Perhaps when Carleton grabbed the pike, he
somehow loosened the mountings. I only know that when he crashed
back, the mace came down and ... He died almost instantly."

Phaedra stirred uneasily. This was far
different from any account of Carleton Grantham's death she had
ever heard before. With his uncanny perception, James sensed her
feelings at once.

"Aye, you are right to look so doubting, my
dear," he said. "An accident so bizarre surpasses all belief. I
realized that myself at once. But before I could react, your
grandfather came upon the scene. He clubbed me over the head with
his cane. Next morning, I awoke in Newgate. I tried to render my
account of the death, but already it was too late. Ewan Grantham
had sworn that he saw me murder his father in cold blood."

Phaedra had dreaded to hear that it was her
grandfather who had borne witness against James. Greatly astonished
to hear that it had been Ewan, she protested, "But you said that
Ewan was not even there. Why would he tell such lies?"

James raked his fingers through his dark
hair, the gesture rife with frustration and helplessness. "To this
day, I don't know. Maybe he believed that I had killed his father
and would come after him if given a chance. I probably would have,
for at that point Julianna's shoes had been found by the river and
everyone was saying she had drowned herself. But Ewan seemed so
frightened that I wondered if he had learned more about her death
than he was telling."

James's shoulders sagged, a weary sigh
escaping him. "Of course, no one believed my version of the event.
Not even Dr. Glencoe, not even my own mother. My temper was legend,
my account of the accident far too strange. Just as you don't
believe me now."

Phaedra ached to assure him that she did, but
the words that escaped her lips sounded faint even to her own ears.
He looked quickly away from her.

"To make a tedious story short," he continued
dully, "I was convicted of murder and hanged. And that is probably
the strangest part of my whole tale. You see, I had never been to a
hanging. It was not a diversion my father ever felt suited for his
family. If I had been a little more experienced in such matters I
might not be here now."

When Phaedra shot him a look of bewilderment,
he explained, "If you want your neck to snap quickly, you have to
take a small leap into the air as the flooring drops away.
Otherwise you might just ... dangle."

James's hand moved involuntarily to his
collar. "The rope tightened, digging into my flesh, pressing on my
throat, cutting off my air." His eyes glazed with the memory.
Phaedra clutched her hands in her lap to still their trembling. She
was so caught up in the pain and horror of what he described, it
was as though she could feel the rope constricting about her own
neck, tearing at her own life. She doubted James realized that his
own breath now came faster, and his fingers unconsciously yanked at
his cravat, ripping it away from his neck.

"I-I couldn't breathe-couldn't seem to die,
either," he rasped. "I don't know how long I fought for my life. It
felt like eternity. The crowd blurred before my eyes. The last
thing I saw was Ewan's face. My last thought was that, if I had to
come back from hell itself, I would find a way to make him tell the
truth.”

James massaged his neck. He drew in a
steadying breath before he was able to speak calmly once more.
"When I next regained consciousness, I was not in heaven or hell,
but Dr. Glencoe's cottage. My throat swathed in bandages, I felt
like I had swallowed fire, but I was alive-if you want to call it
that.

"As recompense for saving me, Glencoe
insisted I take my mother and brother and go away. I was in no
further danger from the law, because a man who survives hanging is
generally pardoned. But the old man feared the vindictiveness of
Ewan Grantham. Perhaps he feared my own black temper even more. I
wanted to get at the truth of Julianna's death, and if there were
any besides Lord Carleton who had had a hand in it, I wanted them
to pay. But for my mother's sake, and for Jason's, I was persuaded
to go. We salvaged what few belongings we could from the shop, and
set sail for Canada.

"My mother was a gentle woman, Phaedra, far
too gentle. Losing Julianna, the grinding days of my trial,
witnessing my execution and return from the dead, having to flee
our home- it was all too much for her. She fell ill on the voyage.
I believed she might have recovered if she had had the will. As it
was, Jason and I could do nothing but watch her slip away."

His words trailed to silence. James turned
from Phaedra to stare out the window, his story done. Her heart
weighted with the sharing of his grief, the horror he had survived,
it was some moments before Phaedra could speak herself.

"But now, after seven years, you have come
back," she said.

He bowed his head in ironic
acknowledgment.

"Why?" she breathed, knowing the answer to
her question, hoping to hear she was wrong.

"I would have thought that would be patently
obvious, my dear." He swiveled to face her, his eyes narrowed to
shards of ice. "I've come back to learn the truth of sister's death
and to crush those responsible for destroying my family."

"Carleton Grantham is dead. So is Ewan."

"Aye," James said, his soft voice chilling
her. "But Sawyer Weylin is very much alive."

Phaedra bolted up from her chair. "Not Sawyer
Weylin," she cried. "It is my grandfather that you threaten."

"You have no need to remind me of that,"
James said tersely.

"It is a fact that I have cursed more than
once."

She stretched out her hands to him in a
gesture of appeal. "I understand your hating Ewan, wanting revenge
against him, but-"

"Ewan's dead." The savage regret in James's
voice caused her to recoil from him.

“So you have transferred your fury to my
grandfather and perhaps to me as well.”

“No! Never would I hurt you. You must believe
that. You are more a victim of Weylin’s scheming than anyone. Did
he not sell you to the devil in marriage?”

“But what has my grandfather ever done to
you?”

“He was part of the plot that destroyed my
family. Can you not see that? He must have witnessed the fight
between me and Carleton that night,” James said. “Yet he made it
appear as though he stopped me in the act of murder. Weylin never
attended my trial, but he allowed Ewan to come forth and tell his
lies. He very likely was the one who persuaded Ewan to
testify.”

"But-but," she faltered. "My grandfather
would have had no reason to-"

"Wouldn't he?" James's voice grated harsh
against her ears. "If he knew all about Lord Carleton's plans to
abduct my sister, it would have been in Sawyer Weylin's interest to
silence any questions regarding her disappearance. And to do that,
Weylin had to silence me."

Phaedra opened her lips, wanting to deny it,
but no sound came. She knew her grandfather to be ruthless, but he
held to his own code of gruff honesty. And yet balanced against
that was his obsession with raising his family into the ranks of
the aristocracy, securing a title for his heirs. Would the wily old
man have gone so far as to see a young girl destroyed, an innocent
man hanged, if he could thus further that goal? The mere suspicion
of such a thing made Phaedra sick with despair.

Yet the concern that clutched at her heart
was not so much for her grandfather as it was for James. When she
saw the hatred burning in his eyes, she hardly recognized the man
she loved.

She touched the rigid curve of his cheek,
"And this is how you've spent the last seven years of your life,
plotting to be avenged upon a weak fool like Ewan and a gout-ridden
old man?"

"No." A bitter smile touched James's lips."I
spent the last seven years trapping fur and getting rich, trying to
bury the past as my brother did. But I am not cut from the same
cloth as Jason. I could not forget, though God knows I tried." He
resumed his restless pacing as though the emotions churning inside
him would not let him remain still. "The hatred I felt kept
festering within me until finally Armande said-"

"Armande?" she echoed, startled.

"My trapping partner, the most noble Marquis
de Varnais. A bandy-legged little Frenchman who wouldn't be caught
dead in these satins and silks." James gave the lace at his wrist a
contemptuous flick. "He despises his title as much as your
grandfather covets it."

"So you stole his identity."

"Not stole. He loaned it. A most practical
man, the marquis. He said I should return in disguise, learn the
truth of my sister's death, kill my enemies, and be done with it,
then get on with my life." The matter of fact way James said this
chilled Phaedra's heart. He continued, "I suppose I was fortunate
Ewan was already dead. The rest of the world appears to have
forgotten James Lethington, but he would have recognized me. That
only left your grandfather. With him, I took a great risk by
appearing as the marquis. But Weylin had only ever set eyes upon me
once, on the night of the murder, and I suppose he did not expect
to see a dead man rise up to haunt him.

"It was an easy matter to arrange chance
meetings at his coffeehouse, flatter him with the attentions of
that great nobleman, the Marquis de Varnais, and thus insinuate
myself into his confidence."