“Catherine,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. Shivers danced over her, but it was nothing like the way she reacted when Nick did this.
“Let me help you forget about your father,” he continued. “I, too, have noticed the glares he throws at you, and I want to be your protector.” He pressed his mouth against her head in a light kiss. “Will you permit me?”
“Gregg...” She tried to pull away from him, but only managed a few inches, just enough to look closely into his face. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she panicked. “We shouldn’t—”
Before she could finish her sentence, his lips covered hers. She stiffened and pressed the heels of her palms against his chest, but he only tightened his grasp on her shoulders as his mouth moved back and forth across hers.
She turned her face away and his kiss landed on her cheek.
“Gregg, please don’t. This isn’t right and you know it.” Her tone of voice was stronger this time.
His breath fanned her cheek, hot and ragged. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. Within a few seconds he pulled away. The look of love he’d shown only moments ago had been replaced with a scowl.
“I should have suspected earlier,” he snapped.
She moistened her cotton-dry throat. “Suspected what?”
“That you loved my brother more than me.”
Her heart picked up rhythm again, but this time for entirely different reasons. “Gregg, don’t be ludicrous. I feel the same for Ian as I do you.”
His eyebrow arched. “Ian? You think I’m speaking of him?”
“But of course.”
“No, Catherine. I’m referring to Nick.”
She tried hard to remain in control...to try and keep her expression solemn. He couldn’t know her true feelings. “Nick? Why would you think that?”
He stood and walked to her bed, stopping at the foot as he touched the wooden frame. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve especially noticed the way he can’t keep his eyes off you.”
“But...” She swallowed hard. “But I’m to be married to your uncle.”
He spun around and marched toward her. When he reached her he grasped her arms. “All that has changed. None of us expect him to be alive much longer. I’m certain Nick has fancied the idea of having you for himself, although he knows he can’t.”
“You are sounding as insane as my father.” She moved her arms and broke the contact.
He shook his head. “Nick wants you, but he also knows the woman he marries will have to come from a wealthy family. He knows I’m in love with you, Catherine, and he’ll do anything to keep us apart.”
She covered her mouth before a sob broke free. Tears welled in her eyes. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Nick could never be hers, even after Grant dies. As the one to inherit the dukedom, Nick needed to marry a woman of abundance...not a lowly Colonel’s daughter who’d been raised on a farm.
Spinning around, she blinked her eyes, willing the tears to disappear before her true feelings were expressed.
Gregg let out an arduous sigh. “Catherine, forgive me. I was out of line.” His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, then his warm hand rested on her shoulder. “The truth is, we are made for each other. More so than you and Nick.”
An incredible ache grew in her chest, threatening to crumble her to the floor. “Please leave,” she whispered, brokenly.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Will you think about what I’ve said? I love you, Catherine. I have since we were children. I know my uncle will die before he marries you. When that happens, I want to be your husband.”
The catch in his voice made her heart clench even tighter. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak due to the knot in her throat. All she could do was shake her head.
After a few moments passed, Gregg walked to the door and exited. Once the door closed, she sobbed into her hands, hoping to hide the noise.
He was right. She could never have Nick now. So why couldn’t let him out of her life?
Swiping away the tears, she gritted her teeth. No matter whom she married, Nick needed her now, and she wouldn’t let him down. Especially when his very life hung on a thin thread.
She took soft steps to her door then opened it. The hallway looked empty. Hopefully, Gregg had retired to his room and not gone to Nick’s.
On tiptoes, she made her way up the hall toward Nick’s chambers. Nobody paced outside his door, nor sat on a chair as if guarding him from visitors. Her heart picked up rhythm.
When she opened the door, it made no sound. The ragged breaths coming from her were the only noise in the hall. A few candles let out a dim light over the room. The heavy drapes were pulled closed over the windows, not allowing any light to shine forth.
She needed to tell him she loved him and encourage him to recover. Even if she could never be his wife, she still had to do something to help with his recovery. If Gregg knew she and Nick would never become husband and wife, certainly Nick had figured this out.
Grant’s words whispered through her memory of when he told her about him and her mother. It appeared the same thing was happening with Nick and herself. Why was God allowing history to repeat itself?
Nick lay still as death on the bed. The cover had been pulled up to his bare shoulders, his arms resting on the outside of the blankets, one bandaged in white. Scratches coated his face and arms. A knot swollen on his forehead right above his right eye looked tender, and it was her first instinct to kiss it better. But she resisted.
“Nick?” she whispered as she slid her hand into his. She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hand. “I pray you can hear me, because I don’t think I’ll be able to say this again.” She swallowed hard and blinked back her tears filling her eyes. “I want you to know I love you. No matter what happens.” Her voice broke so she cleared her throat. “Nick? Please don’t die. You have so much to live for. You need to fight to come back. Your brothers need you. Your uncle needs you, especially now.” Hesitantly, she added, “I need you...to open your eyes and look at me and promise me everything will be all right.”
She bent and kissed his hand. “Please never forget I love you.”
Saying goodbye was more painful than she’d imagined. Her chest ached so much she thought she would die. Tears streaked down her face as she walked away from the bed.
Chapter Fifteen
The pounding in Nick’s head pulled him from a confusing haze. As if coming through a tunnel, sounds became clearer, as did the horrendous pain throbbing throughout his body. He recognized Gregg’s voice and Catherine’s father. A third voice he could not identify mingled with the others.
Different voices came and went, and he wondered what was happening. The intense fog consumed his mind and he couldn’t understand anything around him. Fighting the pain in his skull, Nick struggled to open his eyes. A warm hand enclosed around his and squeezed. In soft tones, Gregg urged him to awaken as someone murmured a verse from the Bible.
Once Nick opened his eyes, white light pierced through his vision, so he quickly closed them. He’d felt as if he’d been trampled.
“Come on, Nick. Open your eyes. Talk to us. Let us know you’re all right.”
His brother’s voice coaxed him to try again. A strong pound hammered in his head, but he tried one more time look at his surroundings. He blinked and soon shadows turned into shapes, and faces appeared. The powerful light that nearly blinded him had disappeared. Gregg, Colonel Martin, and his uncle’s physician stood around his bed.
Gregg smiled. “Welcome back.”
The doctor patted Nick’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”
He tried to lift his arm to rub his forehead, but a band kept it against his body. He glanced down to see it in a sling. It was as if great weights secured his limbs, but at least he managed to move his fingers.
“What happened?” His voice came out in a hoarse, raspy whisper.
“Don’t you remember the carriage accident?�
�� the colonel asked.
Nick squeezed his eyes closed and tried to think. He’d loaded his trunks and climbed in the carriage. Rain and wind had been heavy that night, but he instructed the driver to take him into London, to his office. Needing to be far away as soon as possible from the woman he would always love, he’d commanded his driver to go faster. Soon, his driver’s scream pierced the night, then came the rocking of the carriage, which threw him hard against the carriage door. That was the last Nick remembered.
He groaned. “Is Timothy all right?”
Silence lasted much too long, so he peeked at the men. All wore frowns. Nick’s heart clenched.
Gregg shook his head. “Your driver wasn’t as fortunate, Nick. He didn’t make it until the next morning before passing away.”
Turning his head on the pillow, Nick shut his eyes again, hoping to block everything out. Hoping the past would reverse so he could make things right. If he hadn’t pushed Timothy to drive so fast...
Gregg squeezed his hand again. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
Tears burned behind his lids, but he gritted his teeth and tried to control his emotions.
“Nick, there’s something else.”
He didn’t dare look. He didn’t even dare ask.
After a couple seconds of silence, Gregg cleared his throat. “Uncle Grant had another attack.”
The heaviness in Nick’s chest doubled, making it difficult to breath. All this because of my selfishness.
He swallowed to moisten his dry throat then looked back at his brother. “How is he faring this time?”
“Not so well.”
Nick took a ragged breath that hurt his ribs. “I must see him.”
Behind Gregg, the doctor shook his head. “Not until you have gained some strength.”
Even though it pained Nick to do so, he aimed his glare at the doctor. “Then tell me how to gain my strength so I may see my uncle before he dies.”
The doctor instructed Nick’s servant to fetch his broth, posthaste. For the next little while, Nick struggled with his pain as the physician poked and prodded, trying to find if bones were broke. He came to the conclusion that Nick’s arm had only been bruised. Yet Nick wanted to argue. His heart had been damaged as well.
Would he ever forgive himself for causing the driver’s death? And what of his uncle? Would Grant be on death’s door this very moment if Nick hadn’t tried to leave?
After eating one bowl of broth, he demanded more. Weariness overcame him as his stomach filled, but he fought to keep awake. He must see his uncle and apologize before he died.
He must make amends...if only for his own well-being.
* * * *
Rocking on her knees, Catherine held her sides and stared at her mother lying still on the kitchen floor. Humming a childhood song, she willed her parent to open her eyes. To breathe. To be alive.
How many hours passed, she didn’t know. Her legs grew numb, as had her mind. The moon disappeared and the sun’s morning rays shone through the window. Her mother’s blood seemed darker. Her face, paler.
Catherine’s stomach heaved and she turned her face to keep from retching. Instead, she lost it on the floor, splattering her legs and nightgown.
Tears streaked down her cheeks and her body shook with silent sobs. What had happened? If somebody had broken into their house and killed her mother, wouldn’t she have heard?
Slumping over her mother, Catherine allowed herself to cry out loud. The stench of blood assaulted her senses and the sticky substance clung to her skin. But she didn’t care. Right now she wanted to cry herself into oblivion.
The clip-clop of horse’s hooves drew her back to reality. Her heart pounded a quicker rhythm. Somebody was here. They could assist her.
She straightened and tried to stand, but her numb legs wouldn’t allow it. “Please help,” she screamed through a strained throat.
Keeping her attention on the door, she held her breath. A familiar figure walked in and stopped. Father. Right behind him stepped Hodgson. She broke down and cried a fresh set of tears...until she realized her father’s shocked expression had turned to one of loathing. Even her father’s servant had wide eyes staring accusingly at her.
Her father’s jaw hardened. His lips thinned. At his sides, he fisted his hands. A heated glare shot through his narrowed eyes. “What have you done, Cat?”
She shook her head. “I’ve done nothing. I awoke to find...this.” She motioned her hands toward her mother.
Hodgson gasped and fell to Catherine’s side, taking her in his arms. “Oh, my poor, poor, dear.” Tears gathered in his eyes and he shook his head.
Father blew out a deep breath and splayed his hands on either side of his head. “Who else but you would have killed her?”
She sniffed. “I...I’m certain I don’t know, but I didn’t kill her!”
Hodgson’s head snapped up as he aimed his glare at her father. “How dare you accuse your own daughter?”
“Hodgson, I do not need to hear your opinion. Trust me, I know what’s going on more than you do.” Father looked sternly at her again. “Everyone in town loved your mother. She had a huge heart and didn’t have one enemy. Who would want to kill such a kind woman?”
Catherine’s chest tightened – a different band tried to squeeze her breath this time. “What are you saying? You honestly think I did this?”
“You’re the only person who held ill feelings.”
She gasped, covering her mouth as she shook her head.
He continued. “You were upset at your mother and me because of your upcoming betrothal.”
“No...that’s not true.”
His bushy eyebrows drew together. “Don’t deny it, child. Tell me you didn’t wish us both dead for what we did.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head. Still beside her, Hodgson stroked her matted hair but kept silent. “I never wanted Mother dead,” Catherine said. “I only wanted to be released from the marriage agreement.” She glanced at her mother, then to the poker lying beside her still covered in blood. “No. I couldn’t have done this. I would have remembered.”
He wiped his moist eyes. “Get yourself cleaned. I’ll locate the constable. Hopefully, he won’t suspect you.”
This time her legs obeyed her as she dragged herself up the stairs to her room. Tears flooded her eyes, but she refused to wipe them away. Could her father be right? Could she have killed her mother? True, she’d been extremely upset when her parents informed her of her impending marriage, but she wouldn’t have killed. That wasn’t in her nature.
Why wouldn’t her father believe her? And what could she do to change his mind? Would he ever believe?
The bedroom door banged shut, and Catherine bolted upright in the bed and grabbed her throbbing head. Only a dream...
Lately, the dreams of her mother were becoming more vivid, making her remember more. Making her feel much more heartache. Now was not the time for this, so why couldn’t she forget?
Her maid bustled around the room and readied Catherine’s clothes for the day. Although two days ago Nick had awakened and was doing better, she didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to face Gregg again...or Nick for that matter. Her heart couldn’t take it.
She snuggled back into her covers, pulling the sheet to her chin. “Emily, I don’t want to dress today. I want to remain in my room and have no visitors.”
Her maid frowned. “But Miss Catherine, you cannot. His Grace is asking to see you.”
Her heart leapt, then clenched. Would this be his farewell? She nodded and climbed out of bed. “Then we must not keep him waiting a minute longer.”
Emily dressed her so fast Catherine didn’t worry about her hair. But Emily chased her around the room brushing her long mane anyway. By the time Catherine headed out the door, she was somewhat presentable. She stopped abruptly in front of Grant’s bedroom door. Ian and Gregg stood in front with long and intense expressions.
“How is he?”
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Gregg shook his head and met her wide questioning eyes. “He’s not good at all. He’s completely blind now.” He stopped when his voice shook with emotion.
“The doctor is with him then?” Her eyes watered.
Ian nodded. “Nick is with him also.”
Instead of having her heart quicken because of the knowledge she would see Nick again, relief washed over her. “Good. I’m certain it makes Grant feel better knowing Nick is here.”
Gregg shrugged. “I doubt Uncle Grant even knows. Our uncle has been in and out of consciousness all night and morning long. The pain is just too great for him to bear.” His voice cracked again and this time his eyes clouded over with tears.
Although she shouldn’t, she stepped up to Gregg and wrapped her arms around him. He needed comfort right now, regardless of how she felt. Gregg clung to her for support. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Tears leaked down her cheeks. Ian joined them, circling his arms around them both. They stayed this way until the doctor stepped out of Grant’s room, then they broke apart.
“How is he?” Gregg asked, wiping the moisture from his face.
The doctor shook his head, his frown saying it all. “I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time left. His illness has completely taken over, and in His Grace’s weakened condition, his frail body cannot fight back any longer.”
Catherine nodded. “Can I see him?”
“Yes. He’s been asking for you. Hopefully, he’ll stay conscious long enough to talk. He’s been in and out quite frequently because of the pain.”
Love Me Always Page 19
