Andrea Kane (36 page)

“Kassie, answer me!” Braden cupped her face, forcing her gaze to his. “Answer me!”

“Yes.” She seemed to wilt before his very eyes, her knees buckling under her. “Yes … I remember.” Braden caught her in his arms, taking her slight weight and all of her burden against him. She looked up at him, trauma and disbelief written on her white face. “Oh, my God … Braden …”

“Sh-h-h; it’s all right now. Everything will be all right.” He kissed her face, her cold hands, then lowered her to a sitting position in the sand, sinking down beside her and wrapping her tightly to his chest. There was more ground they had to cover. They had yet to discuss what had happened
after
the argument—the fall that Braden was certain Kassie had witnessed—the
true
cause of her nightmares. But he knew she had reached her breaking point. To continue now would be brutal. The rest would have to wait. “Nothing can hurt you anymore,” he whispered, cradling her to him. “Nothing.”

She was shaking violently, her teeth chattering uncontrollably as the initial door to her memory was unlocked, permitting the first imprisoned recollections to emerge. “Is
that
the guilt he’s lived with?” she whispered. “Is
that
why he hates me so much? Because he knows I knew she was unfaithful? And I look so much like her … I thought that was a reminder of how much he missed her.” She looked up at Braden, her lips trembling. “But it wasn’t, was it? It was a reminder of the woman who had betrayed him! The woman who was in love with someone else …”

“She had reason, Kassie,” Braden said gently. “Your father was hurting her … physically, mentally.”

Kassie shuddered again. “I know.”

“So she found someone else. Someone who could love her, take care of her. Certainly she was entitled to that.”

“Who?” Kassie breathed suddenly. “Who was it?” She stood abruptly, walking away until she was sheltered by the shadows of the cliffs above them.

“I don’t know, love.” Braden followed her, wanting to absorb every drop of her pain. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.” She turned to Braden, dashing the tears from her cheeks, a small flicker of hope in her eyes. “Don’t you see, Braden? Whoever it is, he knew my mother well—probably better than anyone. And it is possible that he is still alive. And if he is, he can tell me about my mother. I remember so very little. Maybe he can give me some of the wonderful memories that I’ve had to live without!”

Braden stared at his wife, overwhelmed by the goodness of her soul. She had just relived one of the most shattering experiences of her life, and here she was, looking past the pain, finding the good that was born of it. It was beyond him.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“I won’t,” she responded simply. “But I have to try.”

Braden nodded, reaching out for her. “If he’s alive, we’ll find him.”

They both heard the rumbling at the same time. It began quietly from overhead, then intensified to a roar. Small stones began to fall at their feet.

“Braden!” Kassie screamed.

Braden reacted instantly. He lunged out of the way, grabbing hold of Kassie and rolling them to safety. Seconds later a huge boulder struck the sand in the exact spot where Braden had stood. Its impact made the ground tremble and brought small pellets of sand and stone careening to the ground beside it.

“Kassie, are you all right?” Braden gasped, still clutching his wife in his arms.

“Yes.” She clung to him. “Yes. Braden, my God, you were almost killed!”

Braden didn’t answer. He wasn’t certain what made him look up at that exact second, searching the top of the cliff for the spot from which the boulder had fallen.

The man was straightening, hurrying from the cliff top. Had he been unfamiliar, Braden would never have been able to recognize him from this distance. But as it was, the breath lodged in Braden’s throat as the undeniable realization struck home.

The man was Charles Graves.

D
INNER WAS A SILENT
, tense affair punctuated only by the occasional clinking sounds of the silverware and the hurried steps of the footmen as they hastened about serving roasted pheasant, stewed mushrooms, and asparagus in butter. The excellence of the meal went unnoticed. Each of the table’s occupants was absorbed in his own thoughts, unwilling or unable to share them.

Kassie glanced up, trying yet again to read Braden’s expression. He was moodily toying with his food and did not meet her gaze. Puzzled, she reflected on his odd behavior since their near accident on the beach.

After carefully checking Kassie for injury as well as assuring himself that she was unscathed by the day’s revelations, Braden had helped her mount Little Lady, swung himself onto Star’s back, and ridden home beside Kassie in strained silence. Immediately upon arriving at Sherburgh he had sought out Dr. Howell for confirmation of Kassie’s physical well-being. The doctor had examined both her and Braden and verified that they were, thankfully, unharmed.

That was the last Kassie had seen of Braden until dinner.

Now he stared broodingly at his half-filled plate, as if he bore the weight of the world upon his shoulders, and Kassie had no idea why.

It was not only Braden’s mood that disturbed her. Cyril was acting strangely as well, his dark, accusing stare turning in her direction several times during the course of the meal. Kassie was no fool. Abigail’s appearance on the night of the ball had proven that Cyril hadn’t accepted Kassie as Braden’s duchess, nor would he ever do so. Sadly she had forced herself to accept that fact, continuing to show him the respect she felt he was entitled to as Braden’s uncle. And until now Cyril had responded in kind, keeping his negative feelings well hidden, his disapproval of Kassie carefully buried beneath layers of cold cordiality and polite tolerance.

But today something had changed; there was a distinct alteration in his attitude. Anger and condemnation burned in his gaze, and Kassie shifted uncomfortably beneath his accusing scrutiny. He did not speak a word to her—nor to Braden, for that matter—but he exchanged an occasional pleasantry with Dr. Howell in between bites.

Charles was absent altogether. Earlier in the day, amid the rampant rumors of the duke’s and duchess’s dramatic episode, Charles had hurried in, tight-lipped with worry, to assess the situation personally. Then, convinced that Kassie and Braden were indeed unharmed, he’d disappeared as quickly as he’d come. Kassie felt the lack of his presence keenly, wishing with all her heart that he was beside her, his kindly blue eyes twinkling in her direction, his ready smile there to assure her that all would be well. At this particular moment she badly needed an ally.

She was about to scream with frustration when Braden roughly pushed back his chair and came to his feet. “I’m going to retire for the night,” he said, his face, his tone expressionless. He nodded to the room in general, turned on his heel, and walked out.

Kassie stared after him in utter amazement. Not only was the time absurdly early for Braden to go to sleep, but he had never gone up to bed without asking her to accompany him. Even during the early weeks of their marriage when they had slept apart it had been thus. She was speechless.

“Kassandra,” Alfred said gently, touching her arm, “you look rather peaked yourself. You’ve had quite a day, I suspect. I do believe that you should also turn in.”

Kassie nodded, grateful to be spared further embarrassment. “Thank you, doctor. I will.” Gracefully she rose, bidding everyone a good night and following her husband up the stairs.

Moments later she paused, her fingers on the door handle that separated her bedchamber from Braden’s. She knew he was within; she could hear him moving about. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went in.

Braden turned, bare chested, a glass of port in his hand. “What is it, Kassandra?”

Kassie blinked, startled by his curt tone. “What is it?” she repeated.

For a moment concern softened Braden’s taut jaw. “Are you experiencing any aftereffects from … anything that happened today?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. It’s only that you left the dining room rather abruptly. I merely wanted to see if you were ill.”

Braden gave a harsh laugh. “Ill? No, I don’t believe that I am ill. At sea, perhaps; a fool, quite possibly … but, ill? No.”

Automatically she went to him and placed her hand on his chest. “Braden …”

He withdrew as if her touch burned. “Kassie, please. I appreciate your concern; truly I do. But there is nothing you can do to help. This is something I must work out for myself … by myself. So please … just go to bed.” He took a deep swallow of his drink and turned away.

Kassie recoiled as if she had been slapped. Love and pride warred with each other as she struggled to understand the reason for her husband’s cold rebuff. There seemed only one plausible answer. Slowly she backed away, hurt etched on her flawless features. “If it is something I said or did … if it is shame based upon my father’s disgraceful behavior, now or years ago, I am truly sorry,” she whispered. “Good night, Braden.”

Braden winced as the door shut behind Kassie’s retreating figure. The knowledge that she blamed herself for his own thoroughly confused, bitter state of mind made pain and guilt slice through him like a knife. Reflexively he turned, taking several steps toward Kassie’s room, then stopped abruptly. Regardless of his powerful feelings for his wife and the conflicting emotions she aroused in him, he couldn’t go to her, couldn’t share his torment with her … not now. Not until he had sorted things out in his mind.

Charles. Braden was torn between fury at his friend’s possible betrayal and mortification at his own suspicions. After a lifetime of friendship and caring, why would Charles want to hurt him?

The question replayed itself over and over in Braden’s mind. There was no motivation, nothing to be gained.

Except Kassie.

Braden couldn’t shake the nagging memory of Charles’s uncharacteristic behavior since Kassie had come to Sherburgh. He had developed an instant rapport with her, followed by an unusually close bond of friendship and, finally, an intense sense of protectiveness that bordered on the irrational. He had begged Braden to let the matter of Kassie’s dreams rest. He had hated Robert Grey obsessively.

He had been at the top of the cliff when the boulder had fallen, nearly killing Braden.

Braden closed his eyes, trying to block out the loathsome thought. It didn’t work. Neither did the port. Nothing would work—not until he confronted Charles and got some answers. Dizzy from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, Braden dropped down heavily upon his bed. Tomorrow. He would talk to Charles tomorrow.

As it turned out, Kassie found Charles first. After a sleepless night torturing herself about Braden’s bizarre behavior she rose early and made a decision. Whatever her father was, whatever he had been, was no fault of hers. She could not shoulder blame for the events of the past. Nor could she apologize for her emotional reaction yesterday when she had remembered the details of her parents’ argument on the night of her mother’s death.

However, if Braden
was
upset about her past or about her reaction to its memory, there was no way she was going to involve him further in the quest to learn more about her mother’s lover … and, consequently, about her mother. There was only one person she knew of that might have some answers. Her father. And with or without Braden’s blessing, she would do what she must.

It was just after dawn that Kassie went looking for Charles, a slip of paper clutched purposefully in her hand. He was, as she had expected, at the stables, checking on the Thoroughbreds. She waited patiently outside Star’s stall until he emerged.

“Good morning, Charles.”

Charles looked surprised, his intense gaze quickly assessing her from head to toe. “Good morning, Kassandra,” he said carefully, still studying her pale face closely. “Isn’t it rather early for you to be up?” He waited.

Kassie shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you well?” The question was instantaneous.

Kassie gave him a small but reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Totally unscathed. Thanks to Braden.” In spite of everything, her eyes lit up when she spoke of her husband—something that was not lost on Charles. “If Braden hadn’t pushed us both to safety …” She shuddered. “Anyway, he did, and we’re both in perfect health, according to Dr. Howell.”

Charles nodded. “Thank God.” He took a deep breath. “So what can I do for you?”

“You can deliver a message to my father.”

Charles looked as if he had been struck. “What?”

“You can deliver a message to my father,” Kassie repeated. Knowing that more of an explanation was in order, she continued, “I cannot divulge all the details, Charles, but my father may have some information that is very important to me. If he does, I am willing to meet with him in order to get it.”

“Does Braden know about this?” Charles demanded.

Kassie shook her head. “No. And I don’t want him to know.” She cut off Charles’s next words with a wave of her hand. “Please, Charles. My mind is made up. I need to speak with my father. And I cannot risk riding out to the cottage to do so. Therefore, I am requesting that he meet me in a secluded spot at Sherburgh. If Braden knew, he would forbid it. So I am entrusting this message to you. All I’m asking is that you see to it that my father receives it. After that you may return to Sherburgh and have no further involvement. Please,” she whispered, placing her hand on his arm. “If there was any other way, I would take it. But there isn’t.”

Charles looked down at the small hand on his arm, weighing his decision carefully. “Is it that important to you?”

Kassie nodded eagerly, sensing that he was wavering. “Yes. Terribly important to me. And with the exception of Braden, you’re the only one I trust to do this for me. Please, Charles.”

Charles gave a terse nod. “All right, Kassandra. I’ll deliver the message for you. Under one condition. Should your father agree to a meeting at Sherburgh, you must not go alone.” He shook his head firmly as Kassie opened her mouth to object. “I am not asking you to inform Braden of your plan.
I
shall accompany you to the designated spot, keeping enough of a distance away so that I will remain undetected. That way I can be assured of your safety.” He paused, clearing his throat roughly. “I cannot allow you to endanger yourself.”