Lyon's Bride and The Scottish Witch with Bonus Material (Promo e-Books)

by Maxwell, Cathy

  Harry seemed to waver, then he opened the door, slamming it behind him.

  “He must change,” Thea said.

  “Aren’t you the one who said he would when he wanted to make the change?” Margaret reminded her.

  “It’s hard waiting for that moment, if it ever does come,” Thea replied. She ran her hand thoughtfully over the handle of the bag. “I do love Neal. I want his happiness.”

  “How good you were for all of us. But you are right. We must protect Neal and the child you carry. At least he will have his brothers.”

  Thea nodded, feeling hollow inside.

  “Do you have money?” Margaret asked.

  “I have my pin money.”

  “Let me add mine. I never spend it.” Margaret left the room and came back a few minutes later with a heavy leather purse. “Whenever you need money, contact me. Harry and I will see you are cared for, and we won’t let Neal know.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How are you going to leave?”

  “I will sneak this bag outside. I’ll collect my sons after their lessons and we’ll walk off. After that, it’s best you don’t know my plans or my direction.”

  “The boys won’t want to leave.”

  “I know,” Thea admitted. “This is going to be so hard.” She broke down.

  Immediately, Margaret threw her arms around her. “I won’t lose track of you. We can’t. You and your sons are part of us now. And, Thea, I believe you are doing the bravest thing I have ever witnessed.”

  Thea nodded. Margaret’s support meant a great deal to her. But now was not the time to linger. “I must go.”

  She didn’t look back.

  Neal was relieved to finally return home. The dinner meeting had gone overlong, and it was now well past midnight. He had wanted to leave hours ago, but there had not been the opportunity to excuse himself gracefully.

  The house was dark save for a servant waiting for him by the door. Neal took a candle and went up the stairs. He could not wait to climb into bed beside his wife. He hated spending a day like this one. He would rather have had his evening at home with his family.

  The bedroom was dark. Neal cupped the candle with his hand so that the light would not disturb Thea. He thought about blowing it out, but he feared stumbling around and making noise when he crashed into things.

  Placing the candle in a holder on the dresser, he set out to disrobe as quietly and quickly as he could and then join his wife—

  The faint light of the candle barely reached the bed, but Neal could see it was empty.

  His first thought was that one of the boys might have taken ill and she was with him. He picked up the candle, determined to go to the boys’ rooms and see for himself, when a knock sounded on the door.

  “Come in.”

  Harry pushed the door open. He was in stockinged feet, and his shirt was pulled out over his breeches. His hair was mussed, he had a growth of beard, and he had not bothered with a neck cloth. Neal’s first thought was that he was foxed. His skin was pale and his eyes sunken, always signs of the worst.

  “I’m cold, stone sober, if that is what you are wondering,” Harry said, wandering into the room.

  “That’s good,” Neal murmured.

  “Aye, good. I don’t feel good. I feel ill.” He held out his hand. It was shaking. “But I had to be sober to talk to you.”

  Neal found himself impatient. He was more interested in locating his wife than talking with his errant brother. “What do you have to say?” he asked, letting his annoyance show.

  “Thea is gone. She’s taken her sons with her.”

  Now he had Neal’s attention.

  “I don’t understand,” Neal said with disbelief. “She wouldn’t leave.” He started toward the door, wanting to see Jonathan and Christopher.

  Harry stood his ground, not letting him pass. “Sit down, brother,” he said. “I want to tell you a story about love.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thea took the mail coach as far as it would go. When at last she stopped, she and her sons found themselves on the Cornish coast, far removed from life in London.

  Here, she let a small cottage overlooking the sea. It was a lonely place, and it fit her mood.

  Her sons were furious with her.

  They felt betrayed, and she didn’t blame them.

  When she’d taken them from their tutor, she’d told them they were going on a holiday and that Lyon would join them shortly. With that terrible lie, she’d purchased their cooperation.

  For a week after they moved into the cottage, Jonathan and Christopher kept an eye out on the road for any sign of Lyon. They talked about their ponies and their schooling. They had plans, plans Thea had interrupted.

  After the second week, they stopped speaking of those things. They grew distrustful of her and querulous with each other.

  Finally, Jonathan confronted her. “We are going back, aren’t we? Or is this like it was with Father? He just left and we didn’t see him again.”

  Thea wasn’t feeling too good. She always had difficulty with the first weeks of her pregnancy, and this time was no different. “No, Jonny, we are not going back.”

  “Did Lyon send us away?” her son demanded.

  She shook her head. She knew that with the right words she could make them think Neal had played a hand in their leaving. Then she wouldn’t be portrayed so black. However, she found she could not do that to them. They needed some of the truth.

  “We had to leave,” she said sadly. “I didn’t want to go, and Lyon would not want us to go.”

  “Then let’s go back,” Jonathan said.

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Someday I can tell you. Not now.”

  Her oldest was not pleased with the answer. He stomped off and didn’t speak to her for days. Christopher acted as their intermediary, but he was not happy with his mother as well and often cried himself to sleep. He started sucking his thumb again, a habit she deplored and something he hadn’t done in years.

  She was also lonely. Neal was her friend as well as her lover. She missed him to the point it physically hurt to be without him.

  But she hadn’t had the dream.

  If she had, she would have gone running back to London as quickly as she’d been able. However, the lack of the dream gave her hope that her plan would work.

  Still, it was a lonely life.

  Autumn came more rapidly on the coast. The wind off the sea grew colder. Thea had enough money to last them a long time. There wouldn’t be extras, but they would not lack for what was important.

  And all the time, the baby within her grew.

  On an October morning, Jonathan gave a shout that a visitor was riding down the road toward their cottage. They didn’t have visitors. Thea kept to herself and rarely ventured into the local village unless she had to do so.

  She went out into the cottage garden. A rider was at the top of the hill above the house and starting his way down. She recognized him immediately.

  Neal had found her.

  “Boys, come into the house,” Thea ordered.

  Christopher hurried to her, but Jonathan charged toward the dirt path in front of the house. “I know him,” Jonathan said. “I know that man.” He began running up the road. “It’s Lyon,” he shouted. “Lyon has come.”

  Christopher tried to take off after him, with a happy “Lyon.”

  Thea grabbed his arm, wanting to hold him, but her youngest defied her, twisting his way free and chasing after his brother. Thea watched in helpless wonder as her children jumped and danced as they welcomed Neal.

  She didn’t know what to do. Her belly was not showing that much. Perhaps she could bluff her way into making him think she wanted nothing to do with him. But first she had to control her own wild em
otions at realizing that he was here. He had come for her, and she realized she’d been waiting for him.

  Thea escaped into the cottage. It had a wood floor and was decorated in a comfortable, homey style—yet she could not wait to leave it. She grabbed hold of a chair and clutched it with all she had. She had to be brave. She had to convince Neal that she had left him because she did not love him. Even if she went back with him, she could not let him love her.

  She heard his voice out in the yard. The tone of it reverberated through her being. Her sons were speaking over each other in their enthusiasm to share how much they’d missed him. She took a step toward the window to look outside. He was holding them both in his arms and hugging them as if he would never let them go.

  How many times when she’d been married to Boyd had she longed for her sons to know this exact sort of commitment and love from a father? And here it was.

  Was she willing to take this away from them?

  Neal saw her watching them. He stood. He looked very handsome in an open greatcoat over his riding clothes and tall boots. His hair was longer than it had been, and his whiskers were almost as rough as Harry’s.

  Neal said something to her sons. They looked in the direction of the cottage and then took the reins of his horse. Neal started walking toward the door.

  Thea wanted to run. She thought about charging into the back room and hiding, but there was no lock to stop him.

  No, Neal had found her and the least she could do was face him.

  A step sounded on the floor behind her. She could feel his presence, feel the bond that was between them. The bond she had to deny.

  She turned, not knowing what to expect. He should be angry with her. Furious.

  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 and 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.