Cathy Maxwell

by Lyon's Bride: The Chattan Curse

Instead, she discovered an expression of such compassion on her husband’s face that she could have wept.

  “I don’t deserve you,” she said.

  “I think differently.” His voice was harsh with pent-up emotion, emotion she could feel as clearly as if it had been her own.

  “We can’t, Neal. We mustn’t. I can’t let you love me.”

  “It is too late,” he said. “I already do.”

  His words were a knife to her heart. “No, no, the witch will win. I’ve had the dreams, Neal. I’ve had the dreams.”

  Neal was in front of her in a thrice. She started to turn away, but he put strong arms around her, holding her fast. “Now, listen to me. Fenella will never win. Do you understand? She won’t.”

  Thea shook her head. “You are safe only if we are apart. We must not be together.”

  “I can’t live without you,” he said. “Do you hear me? I love you, Thea. I love you.” He shouted the words, and his voice rang in the rafters. “I will not run from love.”

  “But it will mean your death.” Thea reached up and placed her hands around his neck. He felt so good and solid to her. “I don’t want to lose you, Neal. I am so afraid.”

  He hugged her tight. He smelled of the sea air and horses. “Don’t be afraid, my love,” he whispered. “I’m not. Of course, I’ve spent a good portion of my life avoiding love. But having you and the boys has made me realize that living without the family I love is worse than death.” He drew back to look her in the eye. “Thea, none of us knows how much time we have on this earth. Whatever happens, I don’t want to feel as if I’ve wasted the time I’ve had. I need you, Thea. You are my mate, my companion, my love, my wife.”

  “But can my love save you?”

  “No, it does something better—it makes my life meaningful. Before you, I had nothing. Now, having you in my arms, I know I’m the richest of men.”

  She kissed him then. She kissed him with all the love in her being, and he kissed her back.

  “Does this mean we are going back with Lyon?” Jonathan’s voice said from the door.

  Thea and Neal turned to see Jonathan, Christopher and the horse’s head in the doorway.

  Neal looked to Thea. “Does it?” he asked with a smile that said he knew the answer.

  “Yes,” Thea said. “Yes, we are.”

  It didn’t take long to pack up their few belongings. Thea left a note to the owner of the cottage and shut the door.

  Neal, with Jonathan riding in front of him, had ridden into the village in search of a vehicle for them to use for their trip. They managed to locate a coach for hire from a posting inn. It was an ancient conveyance that smelled musty inside. Thea took one whiff and felt violently ill.

  “What is the matter?” Neal asked as she hurried around to the back of the cottage.

  “She does that from time to time,” she heard Jonathan assure him.

  “Every morning,” she heard Christopher chime in. “She doesn’t feel good in her tummy, but then she is all right.”

  Thea knew by the time she came from the back of the cottage that Neal had guessed her secret. He took her aside.

  “When were you going to tell me?” he said.

  She found it hard to meet his eye. She placed a hand on his chest, right over where his heart was. “Soon. I knew I was carrying our baby when I left London.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “I left to save you.”

  He gathered her close. The wool of his greatcoat was soft against her cheek. “Don’t save me, Thea. I don’t want to be saved.”

  “I was saving the baby as well. I’m afraid for him, Neal. What will become of him?”

  “He will be like me. He will grow up to be the best man I hope he can be, and to live his life fully.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. How she had missed his closeness. “He will manage, Thea.”

  A calmness settled over her. An acceptance. Neal was right. Fear was not the answer. Love was. Love, love, love.

  Her being was filled with it. She hugged her husband back. He smiled, took her hand and led her to the coach.

  He opened the door. “After you, my lady.”

  Jonathan and Christopher were by his side, and they echoed his words with small bows. Thea laughed. Her sons climbed into the coach behind her. Neal gave orders to the postboy, checked to see that his own horse was securely tethered to the coach, and off they went, the windows on both sides of the coach completely open.

  That night, the boys sound asleep in an adjoining room at the inn, Thea and Neal made love.

  It felt good to be touched.

  It felt good to touch.

  He knew what she liked and he quickly brought her to arousal. Together they found the magic that always sealed the bond of their love.

  Afterward, lying in his arms, Thea asked, “How can you forgive me so easily? I would have thought you’d be furious with me.”

  “Harry,” he said.

  “Harry what?” Thea asked, coming up on one elbow to look down at her husband. “When I last saw him, he was not well.”

  He reached up and stroked her hair away from her face, and then with his fingers followed the line of her shoulder and down around her breast before dropping his hand and answering, “Harry is your strongest ally now. Margaret is your second strongest. They both wanted me to bring you home.”

  She frowned. “Even Margaret? Harry put up a protest, but Margaret understood what I was doing.”

  “I explained my feelings to them, the way I did to you. They worry for me. They are not pleased at the implications, but they have no choice but to accept them.”

  “I pray we have long lives,” Thea said.

  “I do as well,” he answered, pulling her closer. “But the love I have for you, Thea, will last forever. The heart is a shield, my love, and mine will keep us safe forever.”

  Thea hadn’t ever believed life could be so easy or so good.

  Their homecoming to London was everything she could have wished. Margaret hugged her, and even Harry acted happy, although Thea believed him more pleased to see her sons.

  Harry was still the same. He drank heavily, womanized, and twice a month disappeared for a day or two. But Thea couldn’t concern herself with his vices. She wanted to enjoy every moment she had with Neal. Daily, she prayed to God that they would escape the curse, and the prayers seemed to work. Neal was healthy.

  Margaret and Thea became fast friends. They spent at least an hour each day in needlework. Mirabel often joined them, although she disdained plying a needle. She was most upset that Thea had taken off without a word to her, but one word of the baby and Mirabel freely forgave the transgression. Margaret had decided that she would embroider the baby’s christening gown and it would be a garment that would be the envy of all who saw it.

  Jonathan seemed to like Westminster very much, but Thea would often catch him talking earnestly to Neal. She wondered what they said, but she didn’t pry. Instead, she was thankful for Neal’s listening ear.

  The dreams began.

  Only this time was different.

  Before, she and Neal had kept silent. Now they discussed those nightmares and kept a journal on them. In the sharing of their dreams, they searched for clues that might help them defeat the curse. They each had many dreams when they first reunited, but the frequency seemed to slow, and they took that as a good sign.

  Perhaps they could beat the curse with prayer and bravery. Certainly her love for Neal had helped defeat her fear.

  In fact, even Harry and Margaret began to lose their own anxiousness about the curse. The atmosphere in the house grew more cohesive, warm and nurturing. Every day was busy and fulfilling.

  In mid-November, there was an evening drive of open vehicles through Hyde Park. The boys had been looking forward to participating, and Neal and Thea had thought it would be an enjoyable outing, since many of their friends’ families would be there.

  They all bundled up against the chilled air a
nd piled into Neal’s open curricle. Soon they were part of a moonlit procession, one that was almost wheel-to-wheel.

  Neal drove the vehicle, but he let both Christopher and Jonathan have a turn at the reins. With a wool lap blanket wrapped around her legs and hot bricks at her feet, Thea enjoyed watching her sons learn how to drive.

  In preparation for the drive, her husband had given her a blue velvet cape lined in fur, with a matching muff. It was very stylish, and she quite enjoyed showing it off. Soon she would retire from social occasions until her child was born, but tonight, she delighted in the fresh night air and the company of so many people enjoying the same.

  Thea spied Mirabel in another vehicle and gaily waved at her.

  Even more interesting, she caught sight of her brother Horace and his wife. Since Thea had married, her path had not crossed his until this night. Horace was staring right at her, a huge scowl on his face—and Thea discovered she had no animosity toward him. Whatever grievances she’d once had over what she’d felt her brother should or should not have done had disappeared, vanquished by the happiness in her life.

  Thea blew an air kiss at him, and he looked away. Instead of being offended, Thea laughed.

  “Who is that, Mother?” Jonathan asked.

  “Someone I used to know,” she answered. “But Lady Palmer is over there.” She indicated Mirabel’s direction, and he shouted for her attention, rising as he did so, that she might see him better.

  However, at that moment, the horses pulling their curricle started to bolt. They bumped into the vehicle ahead of them and panicked in the way horses did sometimes.

  Jonathan toppled forward and would have tumbled out of the curricle except for Thea’s reaching out and grabbing his coat in time. “Neal,” she said to warn him something was wrong, but her husband had his hands full with the horses. With a start, she realized that half the reins had dropped to the ground.

  Neal leaned over the front of the curricle, reaching for the reins before something worse happened. Thea noticed that he only used his right hand, which was still holding the right reins. He kept his left hand tucked into his side.

  He snatched up the loose reins and quickly brought the animals back under control.

  Christopher grabbed Thea’s arm, his eyes wide. She still had her arms full of Jonathan, and she didn’t think she’d ever let him go.

  If he’d fallen to the ground, he could have been hurt in the fall or found himself kicked by the horses.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Thea said soothingly. “Everything is all right. Lyon has the horses under control.” She couldn’t help but add, “In the future, Christopher, you must be careful to always hold the reins tightly.” She assumed her youngest had been driving, since he’d been on Neal’s lap.

  “I didn’t have the reins,” Christopher said. “Lyon had them.”

  “You dropped them,” Thea asserted, keeping her voice low.

  “No, Mother. Lyon dropped them.”

  Thea frowned, then shrugged it off. The horses were under control, and that was all that mattered.

  But she did notice that her husband was still favoring his left arm. He did most of his driving the rest of the night with his right hand, using his left only for a bit of balance. The driving had to have been a difficult task, considering the skill needed to maneuver their vehicle in such a crowd.

  Come to think of it, the night before, she had noticed Neal massaging his left hand, circling the thumb. On an occasion or two, she’d caught him doing the same with his whole left arm.

  Later that evening, after she’d put the children to bed, Thea sought out her husband. He had not yet come upstairs for bed. Indeed, for the last several weeks, he’d been working in his office late into the night.

  Thea found him there.

  He wasn’t working. He sat behind his desk, cradling his left arm against his body.

  Seeing her at the door, he looked up and said, “It is starting.”

  “What is?” she asked, wanting to pretend that she didn’t know.

  “The curse, Thea.”

  “Why do you say that?” she demanded.

  “My arm is numb. I thought I’d injured a muscle, but it is not healing. In fact, it is growing worse.” He frowned. “I dropped the reins this evening. My hand froze, and I couldn’t move my fingers. The horses startled and we could have caused an accident. I hate to think what could have happened to Jonny.”

  Thea came around the desk to him. She knelt on the floor, taking his left hand into hers. “Such beautiful hands,” she whispered. “Strong hands.”

  “Not much longer,” he said. “This is how it starts.”

  “And then what happens?” she asked, and she found herself strangely unafraid. Holding his hand, a calmness settled over her. He was so alive, so vital. Nothing could harm him. She wouldn’t let it.

  “The paralysis spreads. Father had a month. Some have up to a year, with the numbness growing and claiming every limb. Eventually, my heart will cease to work.”

  The death he described was horrifying to her.

  “Thea, hold me.”

  She obeyed instantly. She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “I won’t let you go. You’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

  “My hope is to live to see my son born,” Neal said.

  She couldn’t bear thinking of his death. She denied it by kissing him. Their kiss grew heated, and Neal’s right hand drew her into his lap. His left arm came around her. The paralysis was gone—for now—and she silently vowed her love would keep it at bay.

  He was hard for her. She remembered that first night, with its frenzied passion. She began unbuttoning his breeches. He needed this. She needed it.

  Slowly he entered her. How she loved this man, and loved making love to him. He was the center of her world, and she told him with her body how much he meant to her.

  They took their time. He kept smoothing his hand over the curve of her hip and across her slightly rounded belly.

  What would she tell this son about his father? Or would it be necessary? Would not Jonathan and Christopher share their stories? Oh, yes, they would. Neither she nor her sons would let the memory of this wonderful man die.

  Sweet, wondrous love. Once again, he took her to the very heights of pleasure. Every time he made love to her, he claimed more of her soul.

  She could not let him go. She wouldn’t.

  “We will fight this,” Thea vowed.

  Neal’s answer was a sleepy, lazy smile.

  He had given up. He’d accepted.

  But she wouldn’t.

  The heart is a shield.

  Thea woke with Neal’s words in her mind.

  Well, if they were true, then she needed to find a sword to go with her shield.

  She waited until Neal left the house on business before she knocked on Harry’s door. Rowan answered. “Please have the colonel up and downstairs in half an hour.”

  “That will be a challenge, my lady.”

  “Is he not here?” she wondered.

  “He is . . . but he drank port last night.”

  Thea felt her patience snap. She had a war to wage, and she needed all the help she could muster. “Have him up.”

  She made the same request of Margaret.

  Within the hour, she was pleased when both Harry and Margaret joined her in the breakfast room. Harry slumped into a chair and placed his head facedown on the table. Margaret gave her brother a look of disgust.

  Thea said, “Neal is dying. It has started.”

  Now she’d captured their attention. Harry’s head came up.

  “How do you know?” Margaret asked.

  “His left arm occasionally has bouts of paralysis,” Thea said. “He says that is how it starts. I want you to know I am not giving up.” She jabbed the table with her finger to emphasize her words.

  “He’s not the one who should die. I should die,” Harry muttered. “Why doesn’t the curse take me instead?”

  “B
ecause you are too soused to fall in love,” Margaret said without pity.

  Her brother glared at her. She glared back and then said, “Be honest, Harry. You are too selfish to love, and I’m too difficult.” She turned to Thea. “What do you think we should do?”

  Thea had the dream journal she and Neal had been keeping. She opened it up. “We’ve been writing descriptions of the dreams. There is always fire. One of us is always burning. And quite often there is laughter. It is the most hideous cackle, like a crone’s laughter.”

  “That must be Fenella,” Margaret said. “She is the one who placed the curse upon us.”

  “Where can we find her?” Thea asked.

  “Find her?” Margaret questioned. “She’s been dead for hundreds of years. She died the night she placed the curse upon our line.”

  “Or perhaps she has been in hiding?” Thea leaned toward Harry and Margaret. “Has anyone gone after her?”

  There was a beat of silence as they considered her words. Harry lifted his head and answered, “Thea, did you not hear Margaret? Fenella died almost two hundred years ago. I would hope she is not around. She’d be a hideous-looking hag.”

  “Where was she from?” Thea asked. “Where did she place the curse on us?”

  Again there was puzzlement. Harry glanced at his sister. Margaret spoke. “Well, the family back then was from Glenfinnan. Charles of Glenfinnan was the first to be cursed. I don’t think any of us have a record of where Fenella and her clan were located. It’s one of those details lost in history.”

  “Then we must find answers, and we don’t have much time,” Thea said. “Neal wants to live to see his son born. I pray he does. But I want more. I want to defeat this curse. Neal says that over years your family has tried exorcisms and hiring witches for reverse spells. But nothing has worked. So, we must try something else. Harry, will you go to Glenfinnan?”

  Harry had his elbow propped on the table so he could hold his head up. He turned bloodshot eyes on Thea.

  “Will you go, Harry?” she pressed. “At one time, you were the most fearless of warriors. Can you be fearless once again for your brother’s sake—?”

  “What is going on here?” Neal’s voice said from the doorway.

  Thea’s gaze went straight to his left arm. He appeared normal, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until the curse had been lifted.