Mischance

by Smith, Carla Susan

  Her thoughts now turned to the other person in her equation, her benefactor, Rian Connor. She kept him separate because her response to him was quite different.

  When he took the seat at her bedside she knew he spoke to her because she saw his lips move, but all she could hear was the pounding beat of her own heart filling her ears. Her rib cage constricted, making it hard to breathe, and from somewhere deep inside her a throbbing ache started to rise. It was a sensation that was both familiar and yet completely unknown. A sweet pain that flowed through her limbs, carrying with it an unexpected rush that intuition told her was desire. And then when he had touched her hand, it was as if the warmth of his skin against hers had jolted something free inside her. Terrified by this sudden, uncontrollable swell of passion racing through her, Catherine had snatched her hand away.

  Now she was filled with shame at her reaction. How was it possible to provoke such a strong emotion simply by skin brushing skin? Catherine didn’t know, but the sudden flare she saw in Rian’s eyes as his hand closed over hers told her he was not unaffected. She wanted to tell him about the inexplicable craving she was feeling. Wanted to ask him if the sudden light in his eyes, the barely noticeable heightened color in his face, and the rush of breath through parted lips meant he felt the same. But the sudden change in his expression told her she was mistaken. He felt no affection toward her.

  The man had saved her life. The last thing he wanted to hear was how the mere brush of his fingers across her hand had unleashed a wild longing in her. Created a hunger that rose so quickly and with such force, it unsettled her. Unsure of what to do, she had reacted in the only way she knew how. Her only explanation for such behavior was that shock had caused her to overreact. Her attraction to the man with the dark, penetrating gaze could not be denied, which was unfortunate for her. And then she had made things worse by asking the most inappropriate of questions. How could she think they were married? Rian certainly didn’t behave as she imagined a husband would. He uttered no endearments, no words of relief at her recovery, and displayed no sign of affection or tenderness toward her. And yet that feeling of intimacy had refused to let go of her. So she had asked the question, unsure whether she would be relieved or horrified if he had told her yes.

  In the end it mattered not. Rian had firmly denied any prior acquaintance between them, brushing aside her feelings by telling her the encounter between them was recent and had been exhausting. Exhausting! What on earth could have happened to produce such indifference on his part? It had taken all her willpower to hide the crushing blow his comment had created. If only she could recall the circumstances, she might agree with his point of view, although from the way her body was reacting, Catherine doubted it. Even now, lying back against the pillows, she could feel a heat in the pit of her belly that would not be denied, and a throbbing ache rising as she brought the image of his face to mind. The tilt of his chin, the thickness of his lashes, the curve of his mouth all made her pulse quicken. Unable to banish Rian’s face from her mind, Catherine closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift, trusting they would help her make sense of what she had been through.

  At the height of her fever, when her body had been nothing but a battleground, instinct had made her fight for her own survival. In her delirium she saw unknown hands reaching for her from every direction, trying to drag her down into the bottomless pit they inhabited. But she fought against them, crying out for help in her hour of desperation. She could feel her strength waning, draining to its lowest ebb, so she made one last, frantic lunge back toward sanity, reaching for something, for someone, for anyone, and hardly daring to believe it when her cries had been answered.

  Alone in the wasteland of her nightmare, when she thought all was lost, Catherine had been picked up and swept away by a male presence that came out of the darkness to give her the strength she needed. She let him calm her fears and wrapped herself in his protection. There was safety in his arms. No harm would come to her now, so she gave herself up to him. Her strength depleted, she had yielded her very essence, offering herself to him, drawing on his strength and taking it for her own. Shamelessly she pressed herself against him, not caring who he was or what he might ask of her. Her only desire was to take him with her as she sank into oblivion.

  When Catherine finally opened her eyes again, it was to find herself alone in the big bed. No strong arms comforted her, no warm body held her close, and she wept with the realization her savior had been a delusion. A product of her feverish imaginings enhanced by the potions prescribed by the caring physician. And as her reason returned, she told herself that none of it, least of all the man she had clung to, had been real.

  And then she had met Rian Connor.

  She was certain there was more to the connection they shared than he had described. How could he not sense the emotional maelstrom he had unleashed in her? This strange, inexplicable attraction she felt for him was too strong to be her burden alone. Rian Connor may have saved her life, but was that all he had done?

  Sighing, Catherine felt the start of a headache thrumming at her temples. Her head was swimming with questions. Too many to be dealt with at the present, so she pushed them to one side, locked them in a corner of her mind to be examined and answered later. The headache was telling her she was overtired and needed to rest, but as she drifted off to sleep one thought kept echoing in her mind.

  Whatever had happened between her and Rian Connor, it had been strong enough to set her heart racing, and light a fire within her. And whether he felt the same toward her or not, Rian was the one with the answers. Answers she was determined to get, even if it meant knocking him down and forcing him to tell her.

  Exhaustion be damned!

  Chapter 19

  Another late night with the clock chiming midnight, and Liam and Rian sat before a dying fire in the library talking in low murmurs. The evening had been spent reacquainting themselves with the missing portions of one another’s lives as only siblings with absolute trust in each other can do. Still, it had not been easy. The conversation had been peppered with emotions ranging from angry, painful outbursts to regret and sorrow for what had been lost. Each of them trying to understand how their separation had affected the other’s life.

  For Rian it was a chance to admit that, even if the bitter disagreement with their father had not occurred, he still would have felt compelled to leave home. There was a part of him that thirsted to see what lay beyond the boundaries of Oakhaven. It was a need that would not be ignored.

  “And did any of it disappoint you?” Liam asked.

  “The sights I saw no, the people…” Rian gave a shrug. “Men are men, no matter what land they call home or what language they speak. All are capable of great kindness, as well as the very worst behavior imaginable.”

  “And will you resume your wanderings when you decide life at Oakhaven is too tedious to contemplate?”

  Rian gave his brother a searching look, wondering if there was a very different question he wanted to ask. “Perhaps I will find a reason to keep me here.”

  “Perhaps you will,” Liam murmured, “but tell me, why did you choose the Americas as a place to settle?”

  Listening to his brother recall the opportunities granted to him, Liam could tell Rian’s love for his adopted homeland was genuine. But sometimes good fortune came at a high price. Liam couldn’t help wonder if his brother would have considered returning to England had his wife still lived. The details of Sophie’s death were something Rian had never shared, and hesitantly Liam now asked what had happened.

  In a low voice, Rian recalled the happiness his bride had brought to his life, before she was lost to him and he succumbed to grief and despair. When finally he was able to move on, Rian realized that, although his grief was spent, his guilt remained. A burden he would carry with him always. He did not elaborate on the circumstances of his wife’s death, and Liam knew better than to press him for details
. It was clear to see the impact was deep. If his brother wanted to tell him, then he would do so in his own good time, and Liam would willingly listen.

  “And what now, Rian?” Liam asked, stoking the dying embers of the fire.

  “Now, I am come home. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for ever leaving. It was selfish of me.”

  “No, it was self-preservation. You can blame wanderlust, but we both know the truth. I saw how things were between you and Father. If you had never raised your voice to each other, he still would have found a way to push you out the door.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. I was the one left behind, remember? He lasted only a year after Mama died.”

  “Ah, Liam, man!” Rian ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Why did you not tell me sooner?”

  “Because you had to come back when you were ready, and not before.”

  Looking at his brother with a new level of respect, Rian asked, “So how bad was it?”

  If the loss of their mother had been hard on Liam, the loss of their father was even harder, though for completely different reasons. Without the guiding hand of his older brother, Liam was forced to mature overnight. Any resentment he felt about Rian’s absence was described in short, clipped sentences. It was as close as the younger Connor would come to a display of anger or bitterness.

  Staggering under the weight of his new responsibilities, Liam had thought he would fail miserably. But slowly, with each passing season, he managed to find his balance. Inexperience forced him to ask questions, seeking advice from whatever quarter would provide it, and in doing so, he had earned the respect of his tenants and the indulgent bemusement of his peers. Then, when he was certain he knew exactly where his life was going, he found out just what else he was missing.

  That he had been desperately lonely after Rian’s departure was something Liam had never shared with his brother until this moment. It was this isolation that made him purchase the city townhouse on a whim. Here he could distract himself as the need arose with the various pleasures offered in the capital. But the enjoyment was hollow, and the gratification fleeting, and he never stayed at the townhouse for any length of time.

  He couldn’t say what made him accept an invitation to attend the summer ball given by the Pelham family at the neighboring estate. Over the years Liam had received many such invitations from various families in the county, but only a few homes had been graced by his presence. This was the first one he had accepted in a long time. Perhaps it was the proximity of the Pelham land to his own, and he was just being neighborly, or perhaps he couldn’t be bothered to find a reason not to go. Either way, in retrospect, it was a defining moment.

  Standing on the marbled terrace, Liam had found himself staring morosely at a sea of color in Emily Pelham’s beautiful manicured gardens. Unfortunately the overall splendor did little to lift his misery, and he wondered, again, what madness had possessed him to accept this invitation. It was proving to be a terrible mistake. The careful façade he wore to conceal his awkwardness around the opposite sex was being severely tested, and he could feel his anxiety growing with every new face presented to him. Which explained his escape to the secluded area of the terrace. Deciding that no one would miss him, and wanting to return to the familiar comfort of his own home, he started down the broad terrace steps. If he was lucky he would reach the stables without anyone questioning his destination.

  He had reached the bottom step when a fluttering motion in the oncoming twilight caught his eye. Something pale moved in and out of the lush greenery, and as he narrowed his eyes he saw a young woman moving through the shrubbery in a manner that could only be described as furtive. She gave the appearance of someone who, like himself, was trying to avoid detection. Not realizing she was being observed, the young woman turned her head and gave Liam a perfect view of her face. He was surprised to find himself staring at Felicity Pelham, his neighbor’s extremely eligible daughter. As he continued to watch, she took a step forward and was immediately pulled back as the hem of her dress snagged on the boxwood shrubbery. Tugging on the delicate material she uttered a most unladylike word, and succeeded, albeit unknowingly, in bringing a smile to Liam’s face.

  “Allow me,” he said, going to her aid and freeing the silk from the clutches of the vegetation that seemed determined to keep the host’s daughter to itself.

  Felicity took a few steps back, shaking out the pleat of her ball gown before looking up at her rescuer. “Oh…it’s you.” Recognizing Liam, she gave him a shy smile. “The boy who rescued me from the duck pond.”

  Surprised that she would remember the incident, he returned her smile. “And now I see you’ve progressed to predatory hedges,” he observed. “What were you doing? Running away?”

  With refreshing candor, Felicity admitted that was exactly what she was doing. Like him, she was trying to avoid more introductions to the opposite sex. It was no secret that she was promised a dowry generous enough to tempt a great many suitors, and any son she bore would inherit Pelham. All of which made her feel like she was a prize heifer on display at the county fair. She envied Liam his ability to just leave, and told him so. They spoke only briefly, no more than a few sentences, but it was enough for Liam to know he was hopelessly, wonderfully, and perfectly in love. It came as a great relief when, a few days later, Felicity’s father gave permission for him to formally court his daughter. And no one was surprised when he later gave him her hand in marriage.

  The evening was a therapeutic purging for the brothers, but now their focus returned to the subject of the young woman recovering in the master suite.

  “Do you think her memory will be fully restored?” Liam asked.

  Rian shook his head before replying. “I honestly don’t know. Dr. MacGregor says he has seen episodes like this before. The body sustains a horrible ordeal, and the mind, unable to deal with the reality, simply shuts it out. Sometimes a person remembers, and sometimes they do not.” He sighed and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “It is possible that Catherine may never regain the memory of what happened to her, but that doesn’t mean she will not recall more pleasant memories of her past.”

  “What are you going to do, Rian, if her memory doesn’t come back?” Poker in hand, Liam continued to prod the dying fire, attempting to coax it back to life. His efforts did nothing but stir the embers, making them glow brightly.

  “Do?” Rian seemed baffled by the question.

  “Yes, what are you going to do with her?” Liam put the poker back in the stand. “You know absolutely nothing about the girl, or her situation. Whether or not she has a family, is an orphan, or running to escape the gallows. Are you really going to take full responsibility for her?”

  “Always the cautious one, eh, Liam?” The remark was spoken with affection and a mutual respect that accepted the differences between the two of them.

  Liam already knew the answer to his question, had known it from the first night he’d arrived, but he wanted to hear his brother speak the words.

  “You’re correct, as always,” Rian continued. “I know nothing about her, but I think we can agree there are some facts we can safely assume.”

  “And those would be what?”

  “Well, as Mrs. Hatch already pointed out, Catherine is clearly not a working girl”—he held up a hand anticipating his brother’s interruption—“and I don’t even want to know where or how our housekeeper obtained her knowledge about the habits of prostitutes.” Effectively silenced, Liam closed his mouth so Rian could continue. “Also, Catherine’s manner of speech would suggest she has received more than a rudimentary education. The cloak she was wearing is of fine quality, and I have no reason to think it is not her own, and Mrs. Hatch told me that, though her hands bear some calluses, they are not from sustained manual labor.” He drummed his fingers on the leather arm of the chair. “I think it is safe to say that whoe
ver she is, Catherine was not raised with the expectation of having to earn her keep as anything other than the wife of a man of some means.”

  Finding nothing to dispute, Liam grunted in agreement.

  “As for my being prepared to accept responsibility for her”—Rian spread his hands before him—“I prevented her from throwing herself into the river, Liam, so how could I do anything else? It is not an obligation that I would task you with, even though I know you would take it upon yourself were I to make such a request. You are about to be wed, and it would be most improper, no matter how understanding Felicity is.” He smiled at his brother, lightening the mood a little. “Until she can tell us who she is, who her people are, and who hurt her, Catherine will remain my responsibility.”

  “For how long?”

  “As long as she needs me to be.”

  Liam gave his older brother a puzzled look. There was something in Rian’s voice, a low tremor behind the words that made him wonder if his sibling felt something more than basic compassion for the girl he had rescued. “And what does Isabel think of your rescuing a damsel in distress?” he asked quietly.

  Rian looked at him in surprise. “Isabel? Why should she think anything?”

  Liam started to speak, and then paused, narrowing his eyes. “She doesn’t know about her does she?”

  “I’ve not mentioned Catherine to anyone outside this house, and that includes Isabel.”

  Liam understood his brother’s reasons for secrecy, but he was surprised he would include Isabel in the exclusion. “But…why ever not?” he asked.

  “Isabel is not my wife, Liam. I owe her nothing in that regard, and besides, she’s been visiting at Charlotte Maitling’s country estate.”

  Liam hesitated a moment before blurting out, “You do know there’s a rumor that Isabel would not be opposed to being married again, provided it was to you.”