Dancing on the Wind (37 page)

"However, when business called me to Britain, I found I had a certain curiosity about where the family came from. After I'd finished in Liverpool, I traveled up to Kendal. The current owner of the estate showed me around and invited me to dinner. I looked at the parish church with all of its memorials to dead Travers and rode through the hills and generally found it an interesting trip." He made a face. "I see why my grandfather left, though—it was the dampest, grayest place I've ever seen."

Kit smiled. "Westmoreland is wet even by British standards, but one grows accustomed. The countryside is very beautiful."

"In a bleak sort of way," he agreed. "I was about to leave when the innkeeper told me that one of the late earl's daughters had just arrived at the inn. He said Lady Kristine was visiting because she and her sister had been slowly paying off their father's debts, and that she had probably come to make the last installment and thank the creditors for being patient."

Lucien cocked an inquisitive brow at Kit.

"Not Papa's gambling debts," she said. "His ghastly gamester friends can fry in hell for all we care. But we felt an obligation to pay the tradesmen. We would have been in rags and living on porridge if the Kendal shopkeepers hadn't extended credit to the family."

His eyes glowed with the tenderness that turned them gold. "What an honorable pair you are."

She traced a figure eight in spilled ale. "Kira did more than I; successful actresses earn more than scribblers."

"All the more credit to you." He took her hand under the table, his fingers lacing through hers.

"The innkeeper spoke very highly of you both," Jason said. "Since I was curious about my English cousin, I asked for an introduction to Lady Kristine. She was… not what I expected." A reminiscent smile played around his lips.

When the silence became lengthy, Lucien said, "We may assume that the stars stopped in their courses and angelic choirs sang?"

Jason pulled himself back to the present. "That's a fair description. I followed her to York, where she was performing. For the next weeks…" His voice thickened, and he stopped.

"Did Kira want marriage, but you couldn't bring yourself to marry an actress?" Kit asked, an edge in her voice.

"No!" He gave her a fulminating glance. "I did propose to her—in fact, I damned well got down on my knees and begged—but she refused to marry me unless I settled in England. I don't know whether she wanted to be a countess, or whether she was enjoying her career too much to leave, but I couldn't agree to give up my home and country."

"Not an easy choice," Lucien agreed.

"We had an almighty row. I told her if she changed her mind, she knew where to find me in Boston. She answered that if I changed
mine
, she'd welcome me back with open arms, but otherwise never to darken her door again."

"No wonder you were so angry when you showed up and my arms weren't open," Kit said.

He ran a distracted hand through his dark hair. "I haven't known a moment's peace since I left York. After I got through cursing Kira, I missed her horribly. So I started to think seriously about moving back to the old country even though, like any good American, I despise the British government. It's rotten to the core."

Kit shot a glance at Lucien, who had spent much of his life defending that government. He said only, "There are many here who would agree with you, but a government is not a nation."

Jason gave a lopsided smile. "True, and when I thought about it, I realized that I like the English as individuals. Since I don't have any close family left in America and my business, which is shipping, could be run as well from Britain as Boston, I decided to go back to Kira, hat in hand, and offer to settle here. Then the war broke out. I volunteered my services, and a few months later I was a prisoner in one of the hulks, living on swill and praying that I wouldn't die of jail fever."

"The hulks are the vilest prisons in Britain," Kit said gravely. She had written several furious articles about how inhumane they were. "You're lucky to have survived."

"Believe me, I know," Jason said with an involuntary shiver.

Lucien commented, "You were a privateer captain?"

The American stared at him. "You must be a damned uncomfortable man to know. How did you guess that?"

"Only someone captured at sea would be likely to end up in a British prison rather than in Canada," Lucien explained. "You mentioned that your business was shipping, and you seem like the sort who prefers giving orders rather than taking them. Hence, a privateer seemed probable. Still, I'm surprised that an officer was sent to one of the hulks."

"The captain of the frigate that captured the
Bonnie Lady
took a personal dislike to me and used his influence to see that I was sent to the rottenest prison available."

"You said that you escaped over the side and swam to shore," Kit said. "How did you manage for money and clothing?"

"I broke into a used clothing shop near the waterfront and outfitted myself with the best I could find," the American said uncomfortably. "By chance, I also found some money hidden under a pile of shirts."

"If you remember the name and location of the shop, I'll send payment for what you took," Lucien said.

Jason gave him a quick glance. "I would appreciate that. I swear I'll pay you back."

Lucien made a deprecatory gesture. "After the peace treaty. What happened then?"

"I was going to take a coach to York in the hopes that Kira was still playing the northern circuit, but at the coaching inn I saw a playbill posted for
The Gypsy Lass
, starring Cassie James, so I went to the theater." He sighed, his face haggard. "I thought my luck had changed. Instead…"

After another silence, he said, "That sounds ungrateful. Believe me, I appreciate how fortunate I am that you aren't sending me back to that hellhole."

Lucien smiled a little. "Since we are practically related by marriage, it would be bad form for me to permit you to starve on a godforsaken tub on the river." He stood. "You look dead on your feet. Get some rest. We'll talk again in the morning."

Kit took the American's thin hand in hers. "We'll find her, Jason—or die trying."

"Let us hope it doesn't come to that," Lucien said quietly.

Kit cleaned up after the meal while Lucien took Jason off to a guest room. When he returned, he wrapped his arms around her as if the action was as natural as breathing. She leaned into him, her fatigue and tension dropping away like petals falling from an overblown rose.

"Do you resent his closeness to Kira?" he asked.

"My newfound cousin was right—you know too much." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I like Jason… he seems an honorable sort and obviously he loves Kira deeply. If I read her feelings correctly, she loves him just as much. God knows that I truly want her to be happy."

She gave a soft, unhappy exhalation. "But at the same time, I
do
resent his coming between us. After she met him, she started shutting me out. She had every right to do that. And yet…" Kit hid her face against his shoulder and said wretchedly, "She never even told him we were twins! That has been the most significant fact in my life, yet she didn't think it important enough to tell him."

He stroked her head tenderly. He was getting very good at soothing her, she thought with a touch of hysteria.

"Perhaps the omission
wasn't
because the relationship
was unimportant to her, but because it was too important," he suggested. "I suspect that one reason idosti-cal twins
like
to confuse others is because it keeps people at a
distance
and protects the
uniqueness of
the twin
bond. You are
an
aspect of Kira's life that is so special, she probably didn't dare share it until she was sure of him. Because of their different nationalities, she may have had misgivings about the relationship from the first, so she didn't tell him."

The constriction in Kit's throat eased. "I don't know if that's true, but it's
a
very nice explanation. I like it." She looked up at him. "Where did you learn to be so kind?"

Though the question was rhetorical, he replied, "From Linnie. Not only did she have a gentle spirit, but she taught me something of how the female mind works." His voice became self-mocking. "I also know that if she had grown up, fallen in love, and married, I would have resented her husband. Not because of any perverted physical jealousy of my sister, but because I would fear the loss of the special closeness between us."

And he had lost that closeness for all time when he was no more than a child himself. The thought made Kit feel ashamed of her own complaints. She hugged him harder, wishing she could change the past so that Elinor had survived. "You would have overcome your jealousy and wished her well with a full heart."

"You'll do the same." He nuzzled her hair. "It's very late. Why not spend the rest of the night here with me?"

When she hesitated, he said, "Only to sleep, Kit, I swear it. I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize your connection with Kira. But it's been a long, tiring day, and I would rest much better if you were beside me."

"I'd better not. What would your servants think?"

"They were all chosen for their ability to be discreet," he said lightly. "And they might as well get used to the sight of you since you're their future mistress."

He must have felt her tense, because he put his hands on her shoulders and examined her face. "It hasn't escaped my attention that when I mention marriage, you react like a rabbit that has been cornered by a ferret. Is the prospect of being my wife so distasteful?"

Lucien would be easier to deal with if he were less perceptive. Again choosing her words with care, she said, "It's not distasteful, but the possibility seems unreal. I can't see beyond Kira's disappearance to a time that is normal again."

"And that is as much as you're going to say, isn't it?" he said dryly. "Very well, I won't nag you. But I'm not going to change my mind, and I can be amazingly persistent."

"I know, to my cost." She rested her forehead against his cheek. "You're amazing in quite a lot of ways."

"Stay with me," he said softly. "Please."

It was as hard to deny him as it was for her to disagree with Kira. And the brazen truth was that she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted her. "Very well," she whispered. "I'll stay."

In deference to the circumstances, Lucien produced two of his seldom-used nightshirts. Kit's enveloped her from chin to well past her toes. She looked delectable as she nestled against his side and quickly fell asleep. Though he was tired from a long day on muddy roads, he stayed awake longer, savoring the pure sweetness of having her with him.

Was her reluctance to marry general, or specific to him? Perhaps a bit of both. He'd have to convince her that he had no intention of clipping her wings and turning her into a domestic sparrow. She could be as much of a radical thinker under his roof as she was under her cousin's.