“She’s nearby.” He wasn’t sure who had said that. His mind spun, and a soporific ennui settled slowly over him. “Don’t fight it, Gerard. Let go.”
He had no choice. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he tried to contact Faith and thought he might have when he felt a soothing touch glance his mind, briefly.
When he opened his eyes, Gerard found himself in a room he didn’t recognize. The curtains were tightly closed, as were the shutters. It was a plain room, furnished with a small, undraped bed, a table and a chair. His dazed awareness passed over the candles in plain sconces and rested on the long figure of Lord Stretton, seated in a chair, sans coat, but otherwise as he had been when Gerard had closed his eyes.
Gerard gazed at him, bewildered, and then reached out with his mind. Stretton smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy.” Gerard put his hand to his forehead and sat. He found himself in an upholstered chair. He put his arms down and levered up his aching body. “Did you knock me out?”
“In a manner of speaking. Just long enough to get you here.”
Gerard frowned. “I never thought I’d hear anyone say this, much less myself, but—where am I?”
Stretton grinned, a flash immediately gone again. “Easier to tell you where you are not. We needed somewhere you didn’t know and couldn’t identify, in case your father should contact you. He will do so, once he realizes you’re not where he supposed. You won’t be able to close your mind to him, you’ll find, but you won’t be able to give him any useful information either.”
“Faith?”
“Quite safe and with her brother at my house,” Stretton assured him. “You, needless to say, are not at my house any longer, but here, with only myself and d’Argento to bear you company.”
“What is this? What do you mean to do?” Gerard wanted all the information he could gather, to give him a chance to collect his senses and work out how to get out of here. How long would Faith be safe if he didn’t go home and fall in with his father’s plans?
Stretton must have overheard the last thought. “Faith is much safer with you here than if you’d gone along with Kronos.” He got to his feet and walked past Gerard to the door. Opening it a crack, he murmured to someone outside and then opened it wider to allow d’Argento entry. Gerard considered jumping him, taking him by surprise, but he still felt groggy, and he was at the far end of the room. They might decide to tie him, make it impossible for him to escape. He saw nothing outside the door that he recognized, just a blank bit of corridor.
He heard a key turn in the lock and knew that one of the men would pocket it. He wondered again if he could overpower both of them. But they wouldn’t be so foolish as to guard him with their own bodies alone. Unless he missed his guess, they would have more muscle outside.
He leaned back, tucking his hands behind his head, as though totally at his ease. “What do you mean to do with me? Why have you brought me here?”
“To restore you to your rightful mind,” Stretton crossed the room to the chair he had occupied before. Gerard heard a slight scrape as d’Argento lifted its fellow to set it down in a more convenient position. “We believe your father subtly altered parts of your mind, blocked parts of it to affect your reason. It’s a complicated achievement. We underestimated Kronos.”
“Not for the first time,” d’Argento added. His Italian accent was notable by its near absence. Just a slight lilt remained, an echo of the heavier accent he used in public. “We will not distort your reason, nor will we oppose you if you wish to continue.”
“It should help that we tell you what we intend to do. Your father did not. Can you tell us what happened in Vinegar Yard?”
Gerard shrugged. “We talked. We discussed the situation and came to a compromise that suited us all.”
Stretton exchanged a glance with d’Argento. “That’s where he did it, then. In Vinegar Yard. That’s why the house was empty.” Gerard raised an eyebrow in query. “Someone would have heard your cries otherwise. You would doubtless have proved resistant to such treatment, and when you do that, it hurts.”
“Is that why you’ve brought me here? So no one can hear me when I scream?” He kept his voice deliberately steady, while his mind worked hard. He had to get out of here, get to Faith and rescue her from these two madmen.
“No. It shouldn’t hurt. We only intend to unblock what he has blocked, release the reason he has suppressed and make you whole again, probably for the first time in years. We brought you here because we didn’t want you to tell him where you were. And we didn’t want to put your wife in any danger. He might have killed her this time, if he’d known she was even slightly involved.”
“Is she?”
“She knows what we intended to do and agreed with our plan.”
Gerard showed none of his displeasure, nor the rising anger simmering deep inside.
“Do your worst,” he said calmly.
D’Argento exchanged a look with Stretton. “I’m the physician. I will do it. If we fail—you know what to do.”
Gerard sat, instantly alert. “Fail?”
“There is a risk.” Stretton’s light tone had completely fallen away. “If Kronos has set any traps, it could drag you both under.” He paused and looked away.
D’Argento took over. “It would mean both our deaths. There is no other way of explaining it. We shall have to see what he has done.”
“Can you not leave it? Let me take Faith home and do what I have to do?”
Stretton shook his head. “We can’t allow that to happen. Whatever else happens, Kronos cannot be allowed to do this. It would be infinitely more difficult to stop him later. Close your eyes, Jupiter. This will happen, and we will take it from there. One step at a time. If you both die, I will put your bodies in a carriage and overturn it. It will look like an accident.”
“What about the attributes? You always seem so keen to collect those.” Gerard watched him suspiciously. He couldn’t quite believe they would do this to him, and he could do nothing to prevent it. His mind worked swiftly, but he couldn’t think of a way. His father was absent, probably attending to his sister in the same way he had attended to him.
“We have someone nearby.”
The calm answer made Gerard gape. They had two pregnant women, ready to accept them?
Stretton’s tight grin did nothing to allay his concerns. “We’re used to it. We have them, I only hope it doesn’t become necessary to use them. The women are well cared for and will be returned with a reward if we don’t need them.”
“And if you do?”
“They are willing to give up their babies. Both have far too many children and not enough money. Either way, their problems will be lessened by what happens here today.”
A chill settled over Gerard, a dull acceptance of what was to come. He was no longer sure if this had been induced in him, but he didn’t seem to care.
D’Argento got to his feet and took off his coat, turning to toss it over his chair. When he turned back to Gerard his eyes were blazing with an inner glow, and his body seemed to pulse with power. “Now,” he said.
Gerard felt his intrusion. He had been familiar with the feeling all his life, there was nothing strange about it now, except that d’Argento was a new presence in his mind. He had never felt such raw power in his life before, never felt such helplessness. He was a large man, and since coming to physical maturity, had never been at such a disadvantage. He felt like a child before a tutor, a particularly exacting tutor. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink before the power of those burning silver eyes.
Panic made him begin to close down, the barriers coming inevitably down between them, working to push the man away, but all his defences were swept away without deflecting d’Argento’s purpose. Deeper and deeper, more intimately than he had thought it possible, d’Argento penetrated into every recess, every nook, places he hadn’t known existed before today.
A mild burning sensation, and memories floo
ded forth. Memories of his mother, someone he had found it difficult to recall before. Even words she had spoken to him came back on a surge of memory. His mother died when Gerard was five; he knew he should have remembered more of her but could never recall her, however hard he tried. Another burn, a stinging, stimulating sensation, and other memories came back.
D’Argento unlocked the layer and moved on. Gerard no longer tried to struggle. With the first memories, he realized what his father had done to him over the years. No doubt if his father had realized the extent of Gerard’s powers, he would have done more. What he had done was damaging enough. Small remembrances from his childhood dominated, deliberately suppressed, and now set free. His mother telling him how to control his mind. He’d always wondered how he’d known and vaguely put it down to instinct. Now he knew he’d been carefully taught.
A flood of memories staggered Gerard, made him forget all resistance in the new revelations that poured forth. They appeared in no particular order. Finally he saw what he had done over the last day or two, the blind trust he’d been encouraged to give Kronos, the rebellion and the overwhelming love for Faith which made him set himself against his father for the first time and put all the subsequent actions in train.
He could barely believe that he’d agreed to do this thing—to impregnate his sister. How could he ever have imagined he could do it? Revulsion filled him even to think of it now.
No wonder he’d suffered a blinding headache at that time, but he’d assumed it part of his affliction, not realising his father had delved so deeply and affected him so profoundly. He must have been working on Gerard since the day of his birth.
D’Argento moved over Gerard’s mind in one final sweep, making absolutely sure he’d missed nothing before he left, much quieter than he’d begun. Gerard opened his eyes.
D’Argento had turned away, his hand over his eyes as if they hurt. Stretton was watching Gerard. He glanced away once, to check d’Argento, who said, “It is done. Kronos has been working on Ellesmere for a long time.”
Stretton’s attention immediately went to Gerard, who stared ahead numbly, the freshly released memories and knowledge chasing each other around his head, sinking into his consciousness. “Gerard?”
At the soft word Gerard came back to earth. With an effort, he brought himself under control. Plenty to think about, but not now. “What a fool I’ve been! How could I have let Boscobel manipulate me like that?” He’d even called him “father” after he’d sworn not to.
“He’s been doing it all your life,” Stretton said. “Your courage and your desire for independence saved you from becoming his creature. You fought him, consciously and unconsciously.”
“The headaches?” he guessed.
“That and the lethargy. The tiredness was mostly caused by your celibacy, but he reinforced it. And the headaches he gave you every time you defied him. But you continued, without the pain and the debilitating fatigue. You resisted as much as you could. A weaker man would have become his creature entirely long ago.”
Gerard’s head spun with memories he hadn’t know he possessed.
Dazed, he saw Faith watching him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her brow furrowed. He hadn’t been aware of her entrance and he knew, from her expression, that she was not sure of her welcome. His heart leaped to see her, but he was so confused by the new revelations sweeping through him he wasn’t sure of anything any more.
He couldn’t reassure her. He wasn’t sure he knew himself. He tore his gaze away from hers. An inner urge, one born of instinct rather than intellect, told him to sweep her into his arms, kiss her sweet lips and welcome her back. He could not.
Stretton’s voice came cool as ice. “I suggest you get to bed. It’s late. I sent your regrets to your father’s house and said you would remain here with your wife tonight. He will understand that.”
“Here?” Gerard looked around at the anonymous room. “Where is here?”
Stretton grinned, a flash of genuine amusement lighting his eyes. “I lied. You’re still in my house.”
Gerard gave him a reluctant grin and returned the mock-salute Stretton had given him on the night of the ball. “I owe you a great deal. My very freedom. I will never ally myself with my father again. I don’t intend to return to his house.” His thoughts were beginning to settle.
“Stay here, then,” Stretton suggested. “You can stay as long as you want to. Tomorrow we will begin to do what we must.”
“What is that?” Even to himself Gerard’s voice sounded choked.
“We must destroy Kronos and his ambitions. If you want nothing to do with it, we understand and will not condemn you, but it must be done. We will not tolerate interference.”
“I have no wish to interfere,” Gerard said. Despite his overwhelming confusion, he was sure of one thing. “I know it must be done. More than ever now I can see where he is headed, and what will satisfy him. I will help, if you think I can.”
D’Argento nodded. “You should lead us. It is your place.”
“I’ll do my best.” Gerard knew it was the only thing he could do. He could not shirk this, his most important duty to date. “Boscobel must be stopped. In any way possible.”
He turned to find Faith, but she had gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Faith excused herself as soon as she could and retired alone, leaving them to make their plans. There was little she could do to help, and she feared she was only in the way.
Gerard had changed. He hadn’t opened to her since d’Argento had cured him, had not turned to her once. His bearing had grown more commanding, as though he had truly been granted his right mind. Studying him, Faith felt he was not only ducal, he was regal. A leader of men, coming into his rightful inheritance.
He would have no use for a mortal wife with a weak brother to care for. She could give him nothing if he no longer loved her.
Circling the bedroom restlessly, Faith only ceased her peregrinations when her maid entered. She suffered the preparations for bed, not cavilling when Baker braided her hair into two long plaits. Gerard liked it free, but Gerard would not visit her tonight. He was too busy.
A flash of arousal filled her when she remembered his kisses. Faith was ashamed to realize that she would still give him whatever he required of her, even if he didn’t wish to continue with their marriage.
It wasn’t any sense of inferiority that persuaded Faith to her conclusion. It was the certainty that Gerard had a great position to fill, in both of the worlds he would move in. He needed a duchess, someone who could run his homes, be a hostess for him, encourage people to his support. In his other life he needed a consort, someone who would provide support in ways Faith could not. She would die, he had to live. Today proved to her that his people needed a strong and enduring leader. He could not die with her, as he’d wished, and she could not bring him the devastation that had come close to destroying Stretton. She had to go.
Not tonight. She was too weary. It hurt to know Gerard rested under the same roof as her, but it couldn’t be helped. Faith expected discussions to continue until the small hours, but she was no longer a part of it. She had her brother back, and that would have to be enough.
Determined on her course, Faith slipped between the sheets and closed her eyes. An hour later she was lying on her back, eyes shut, as wide awake as ever. Thoughts raced through her mind and although she tried desperately to relax, to think only soothing thoughts, her attention kept going to that room downstairs, where three men were deciding the fates of others.
She heard the door open and silently prayed it was her maid, come to tidy or bring her mistress a hot drink.
The bed dipped when he sat on its edge. “Faith? Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Careful to ensure her plain, practical nightgown was fully fastened, Faith sat. By the light of the single candle she had left burning, she saw her husband in his shirtsleeves. His eyes remained in shadow, so she couldn’t see his expression.
&
nbsp; “We have decided on a plan, but we can do nothing tonight. May I come to bed?”
Humbled by his question, Faith nodded. “If that’s what you wish. Are you sure you still want to?”
Gerard stopped his hands at his neckcloth. “What do you mean?”
“You are yourself now. You know who you are, what you are. You must know I won’t do for you anymore. Gerard, it was pleasant. More than that, it was wonderful, but I can’t hold you, you know I can’t.”
Gerard let his hands fall, his neckcloth falling into two strips on either side of his neck. “Why not?” His voice, though soft, sounded full of menace.
“Your father distorted your mind for years. Did he persuade you that you loved me, to distract you and weaken you?”
He gripped her hand, then, as though he was afraid she would pull away. “No!” The violence of his answer shocked her. “No, Faith, you were the flaw in his plan. Without you I would still be at my father’s house, doing what he wanted. You made me defy him openly, something I should have done years ago.” He paused and released his tight grip. Although Faith longed to shake the feeling back into her hand, she let it stay in his keeping. She listened, and let the sense of his words sink into her understanding. “You changed it all. For that I should love you, but that isn’t the reason.”
Faith drew back, stared at him wide-eyed, forcing back the tears. “I didn’t think it would last. I’m so sorry, Gerard.”
“What for?” He smiled, a gentle curve barely touching his mouth. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Faith, I love you for your own sweet self, not for what you did to help me. I would have loved you had you been a hindrance. From the moment I saw you crouched beside your brother in that hellhole, you laid claim to my heart. With you I can make sense of my life, make it something worthwhile. Without you I have no doubt now that my father would have given me to Deborah and then killed me at the new child’s birth.”
Lightning Unbound: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 1 Page 28
