Andrea Kane (44 page)

But the mystery remained, terrifyingly close. Kassie began to tremble violently, some inner voice warning her that she was nearing her answers, approaching the truth. For the first time she forced herself to accept the fact that the beast in her dream had to be her mother’s unknown lover.

Unknown to everyone but Kassie.

Her mind made up, Kassie wrote a hasty note for Braden, propped it on her bed, and left the room.

Past the unseen man who watched her go.

Braden was smiling as he headed toward his room to change for the evening meal. Now that he had declared his love for Kassie, his body and his heart were finally at peace.

Which left only his mind to follow.

Braden’s smile faded, and he paused outside Kassie’s closed door, his hand poised to knock. She could be asleep, he thought, hesitating, since neither of them had slept last night. He would just check on her, he decided. Lowering his hand, he pressed the door handle and entered the semidarkened room.

It took him less than a minute to realize she wasn’t there. And while the discovery made him distinctly uneasy, he didn’t panic. Until he saw the note.

Reaching the bed in three strides, Braden snatched the note from the pillow, taking it to the open door to read by the hall’s light.

Dear Braden,
it read,
I’ll be back shortly. In the interim, please talk to Charles. He has much to tell you. I’m asking you to do this, if not for yourself, then for me. I love you very much. Kassie.

With a muttered oath Braden crumpled the note in his hand. What was Kassie up to, and where did Charles fit in? Braden was just about to toss the note to the ground when Kassie’s words reappeared in his mind’s eye:
I’m asking you to do this, if not for yourself, then for me.
Slowly Braden opened his hand, staring at the wrinkled piece of paper.
All right, Kassie,
he told her silently,
I’ll do it. For you.

“Charles. I need to see you.”

Braden stood at the stable door, watching as Charles absently stroked Little Lady’s neck. At the sound of Braden’s voice he turned, his eyes red and swollen.

Without thinking Braden went to him, taking his arm. “Charles, my God, what is it? What’s wrong?” In over thirty years Braden had never seen Charles look so haggard and beaten.

Charles stared down at Braden’s hand clutching his arm. “Have you spoken with Kassandra yet tonight?” he asked in a raw voice.

“Not directly. She left me a note asking me to talk with you.” Braden dropped his hand to his side.

Charles nodded. “I see.” He pressed his fingers to his throbbing temples. “Then we have much to discuss.”

Braden could feel his heart begin to pound. “About Kassie?”

“Yes, about Kassandra … and about Elena, her mother.”

Braden braced himself for the worst. He was prepared for many things, but not for the heartbreaking story that unfolded as Charles, with all the quiet dignity he possessed, proceeded to reveal everything to Braden that he had to Kassie.

Braden said not a word throughout, but by the time Charles had finished, Braden’s own eyes burned with unshed tears. “You never told me … any of this,” he got out.

Charles made a choked sound. “You believe me?”

There were no words to say, so Braden said but one. “Yes.”

Charles went to him silently, and the two men embraced.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Braden managed.

“And I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Charles replied when he could speak. “But when Elena was alive I promised her my silence. When she died I was so very frightened for Kassandra. I wanted there to be no possibility that Grey could learn who I was—the lowly bastard sibling of his nobly bred wife—and to take out his rage on their beautiful, innocent daughter, simply because her relation to me represented a potential scandal. Also, with Grey’s propensity for violence, I was determined to keep an eye on Kassandra … and I needed to remain unnoticed and anonymous in order to do so. She was all I had left of Elena; I couldn’t risk losing her, too. So I told no one … not even you.” Charles swallowed. “Then, seeing Cyril’s reaction to Kassandra … the idea of a Sheffield bride without a title … I was convinced I had made the right decision. She had endured so much, I could not subject her to anything more. Cyril was already condemning her for her pseudo-aristocratic birth.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Compared to the vast Sheffield empire, Kassandra could boast only a minor title on her mother’s side, and nothing on her father’s. A mere pittance amongst the
ton.
Imagine their reaction if they’d learned that I was her uncle—a lowly groom.” Charles shook his head. “No. I would protect Kassandra any way I had to … with my life, if need be.”

Charles’s words triggered a sharp, intrusive thought in Braden’s mind, painfully jolting him from his joyous reunion with his old friend.

“Where is Kassie?”

Charles looked surprised. “I assumed she was in her room, awaiting the outcome of our talk.”

Braden frowned. “No … her room is where I discovered the note. She was nowhere to be found.” He swallowed, suddenly terribly unnerved. “Charles, Kassie is desperate to resolve the mystery of her nightmares. You don’t think she would go to the cliffs by herself …” The question hung in the air.

Charles paled, then forced himself to relax. “Let’s remain calm, Braden. Whatever Kassandra’s intent, she couldn’t have gone far.” He stroked the velvet forehead of the graceful mare beside him. “She obviously went by foot. Little Lady is still here. There is no other mount that Kassandra would try to manage on her own.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth Charles froze, his alarmed gaze locking with Braden’s, panic streaking through them both simultaneously.

It took seconds before their worst fears were confirmed.

Star was missing.

Kassie’s hands felt like blocks of ice when she dismounted. With the coming dusk the wind had grown brisk and now whistled through the craggy peaks of the cliffs. Far below, Kassie could hear the sound of the waves as they struck the beach, taking layers of sand in their wake.

The cold intensified.

Star whinnied his concern as Kassie tied him securely to a sturdy tree. She shook her head in reply, having no intention of endangering her beloved horse by allowing him to come too close to the cliffs edge. “Thank you for getting me here so quickly, my spirited friend,” she murmured. “If all goes well, I shall go home cured.”

So saying, she turned and walked boldly along the path that led through the jutting rocks. The wind sharpened with each heartbeat, and Kassie wrapped her arms about herself, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

She reached the edge.

For a timeless time she stood staring down at the deserted shore far below, her dread growing stronger by the second. Had her mother felt this nameless, faceless terror as she stood there all those years ago? Or did Elena’s fear have both a name and a face?

A flash of memory, dark and forbidding, darted through Kassie’s mind and was gone. She shook her head, willing it to return, but her brain, intent on protecting itself, stubbornly refused to comply.

The dusk grew thicker, the night sounds more pronounced. There were eyes all around her, watching … waiting …

It was more than Kassie could bear. Trembling violently, she backed away from the edge, from the fear of the past, from the pain … and came up against the solid wall of a man’s body.

She whirled about, weak with relief, certain that her husband had come after her. “Braden …” She broke off in surprise. “Cyril?”

Cyril Sheffield stared down at her, his face masked by the shadows of dusk.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “How did you know …”

“I was concerned about you,” he replied in a wooden tone. “So when I saw you ride off to the cliffs, I followed. I do that whenever I see you go off by yourself.” He reached out and drew her to him. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, Kassandra. It isn’t safe.”

Kassie nodded against his shirt, unable to free herself of her internal chill. “You’re right, Cyril, and I appreciate your concern. Let’s go back to the house.” She attempted to pull away.

Cyril held her to him. “Concern?” he repeated softly. “I would hardly describe my feelings for you as
concern,
Kassandra.”

Kassie tugged against his restraining arms. “Please let go of me, Cyril, you’re frightening me.”

“Nor is fear what I desire,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. He lifted a handful of her hair, bringing it to his face. “Have I told you how lovely your hair is? How it shines when the sun strikes it? How exquisite it looks spread upon a blanket … even if it is being sampled by another man?”

Kassie’s eyes had grown wide with alarm. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She snatched her lock of hair away from him. “But I want you to let go of me this instant.”

She felt the change in the stiffening of his body. “
You
want?” he demanded. “I know exactly what
you
want, Kassandra. I saw it quite clearly this afternoon by the stream. Unfortunately, Braden was never meant to give it to you.”

The realization that Cyril had witnessed their lovemaking infuriated Kassie. “How dare you?” she spat out, heedless of the danger.

“How dare I?” he roared. “I dare because it is I, and not Braden, who is entitled to your practiced little body. I, Kassandra.” He dug his hands into her arms, lifting her off the ground until she was staring into his blazing, deranged face, his eyes glazed with madness. “I offered for it, I was willing to pay seventy thousand pounds for it, and it belongs to me.
To me,
you traitorous little slut.
To me!
”
He
shook her so hard that her teeth rattled.

“Oh, my God,” Kassie gasped, remembrance washing over her like a tidal wave. “You were the man I overheard with my father … the man who wanted to buy me—”

“The man to whom you rightfully belong!” he shouted. “But I should have expected deceit, betrayal. You’re just like her, aren’t you? Not only your beauty, but your vicious, conniving heart.” His insane laughter blended with the wind. “I should know better by now, shouldn’t I? I could have given you everything, Elena,
everything
you desired—wealth, a title, and a man who adored you. Instead of that pathetic drunk you married …”

His ravings continued, but their sound grew faint, for his last words had struck a hellish chord inside Kassie. She closed her eyes as her head began to buzz with sound. It was another voice intruding into her delirium, a voice from far away.
Why would you stay with that pathetic drunk you married, Elena? All for a child? Leave him
…
come back to me. I can give you the world
…
you know I can. We’re so good together
…
and I love you, I adore you. Damn you, don’t turn away from me
…
damn you
…
Elena
…
Elena
…

Kassie heard herself scream, and the echoing sound from the past merged with her primal cry of terror. She opened her eyes, focusing wildly upon Cyril’s dark green coat … the same coat he had worn yesterday when he had comforted her. Green. So much green. Just like in her nightmare.

Kassie let out another piercing shriek.

Cyril. It had been Cyril. He was the one who had murdered her mother.

The pieces fell rapidly, heinously into place. Kassie had been but four years old, frightened by her parents’ argument, intent on preventing her beloved mother from going away. She had followed Elena to the cliffs, where she had heard the strange man’s anger, heard her mother’s anguished sobs … and hidden, listened, and watched.

It replayed itself in slow motion before her eyes: the violent fight, the harsh words, Elena slapping Cyril across the face. And then his rage, his maniacal fury as he had seized her and thrust her over the cliff’s edge …

And Elena’s scream … her horrible, fading scream as she had fallen to her death.

Cyril had watched her fall, a satanic smile on his face. He had turned away … and looked straight toward Kassie where she crouched, cowering, in the clump of trees.

Without pause she had fled, racing for home as fast as she could. …

She had been running ever since.

Slowly she refocused on her surroundings, everything inside her frozen, numb.

Cyril was staring at her with predatory intensity.

“It was you,” she whispered, beyond reason or caring. “You … you killed my mother.”

“Your mother was a whore, Kassandra.” Cyril’s voice was steel and fire. “As are you. And your father was a fool and a weakling. He never knew I was the same man Elena had loved. He promised you to me, but he betrayed me … and he died for it. I warned him time and again. But his greed and his liquor made him pitiful and useless. It took but one push to end his miserable life.”

Kassie stared blankly, gaping in noncomprehension.

“And Elena … my Elena … she also betrayed me,” Cyril continued in a chilling monotone, “so she died for it as well. And now you …”

The implication was lost on Kassandra until she felt him dragging her back to the edge of the cliff. Then her instinct for self-preservation took over.

“No!” she cried, freeing her hand and pounding on his chest. “No, I won’t let you … no—”

“
Kassie!
”

Braden’s agonized shout exploded through the air. He dismounted before Little Lady stilled, tearing toward where Cyril had paused, still clutching Kassie to him.

“Stop right there, Braden, or your wife will be dashed on the rocks,” Cyril warned.

Braden strove for control, seeing that his uncle was quite mad. “Let her go, Cyril. It’s me you want, not Kassie. I’m the one who took her from you. I’m the one you detest. If you want to kill someone, kill me.”

Cyril gave a harsh laugh. “How noble of you, Braden. But ineffective, I’m afraid. Because it’s too late. Kassandra has already betrayed me, and she must pay … pay with her life.”

He turned back toward the cliff’s edge. And in that brief second Braden dived at him, knocking him backwards and to the ground.

“
Braden!
” Kassie screamed as she fell free, but not far enough, from Cyril. With a feral growl Cyril lunged at her, murder in his heart. But Braden got there first.