Julia London 4 Book Bundle (28 page)

The “dangerous gentleman” was a danger to himself. The Earl of Albright had tried to kill himself, they said.

How those rumors angered her! Dr. Mayton had, of course, given her Adrian’s explanation for what had happened, but it was hardly necessary. A man of Adrian’s character would never attempt anything so cowardly. And if for some reason he had thought to end his own life, she was quite certain he would have succeeded. Whatever had happened that afternoon, he had not attempted to take his own life, and she had to think of a way to help him. She
would
think of a way.

Lilliana gathered her feet up under her dressing gown, propping her chin on her knees as she stared at the moon, thankful for the late-night silence so she could think. It was somewhere in the depth of that silence that she first heard the sound of a wounded animal. Straining to hear it, she lifted her head. There it was again—a low, aching moan, as if the animal were in pain. Immediately, she thought of her pups, relegated to a small pen Mr. Bottoms had built for her near the terrace. She came swiftly to her feet and went to the window, peering outside.

The sound came again, so faint as to almost be imagined, swelled a bit, then faded. Lilliana jerked her head around to the door that connected her rooms to the master suite.

Adrian.

Oh God, it was Adrian! She gasped softly as the low, keening sound came again, a sound unlike any she had ever heard a human make. It was coarse, sickening—and heart-wrenching. Adrian was in pain.

She moved quickly to her bedside and lit a candle, and without hesitation opened the connecting door, wincing as the moan grew louder. Carefully, she stepped into his room. He did not notice her; it took her a moment
to remember he could not see the light. Lying on his bed, he was curled into a ball on bedcovers that had been thrashed into a furious heap. He moaned again, and slowly, quietly, she moved across the room, lifting the candle high. As she neared the bed his head suddenly jerked up. Her gaze riveted on his hazel eyes—she had no idea what she thought she would see, but she had not imagined them to look the same. But dear God, they were the same deep hazel eyes with the same gold flecks. A little scarred around the edges, but the very same eyes frantically roaming the room as he came up on his elbow.

“Who is it? Who is there?” he snapped.

She unconsciously took a step backward, and his eyes flashed with unimaginable terror. Struck speechless by the extraordinary display of emotion, Lilliana moved cautiously to the bed table and set her candle down.

“For God’s sake, who is it?” he demanded, the fear evident in his voice.

“
Adrian.
It’s me.”

His hazel eyes widened, and he suddenly fell over on his side. “Get out!” he groaned helplessly.

Her heart aching to the point of bursting, Lilliana moved to the bed and laid her hand on his shoulder. “I won’t leave you,” she whispered tearfully. “Not now, not ever.”

For a moment he did not move. But then his hand abruptly shot out, flailing as he searched for her, grabbing at her shoulder, her breast, and finally her hand, which he clutched so tightly, she feared the bones would crack. He lifted himself up, pulling her into his embrace at the same time. “Lillie,
Lillie!
he whispered frantically. “Hold me. Dear God, please hold me—”

Choking on a frightened sob, Lilliana melted onto the bed and gathered him in her arms.

“Hold me,” he muttered helplessly, and clutched her so fiercely that she could scarcely breathe. He pressed his face to her breasts, taking tortured gulps of air.

“I won’t leave you,” she murmured,
“I will never leave you.”

Sleep came at last, after days of tossing and waking often in the hope that by some miracle his sight had returned. In the rare moments Adrian had actually slept, he had been tortured by recurring visions of Phillip’s face in death, Benedict’s eyes at his wedding, and the devastation on Lilliana’s face when he had told her the true reason he had married her. This was hell, at long last come and richly deserved. An eternity of darkness to be endured with nothing but those hideous images forever playing in his mind’s eye.

This was the quality of his mercy, and dear God, it was
terrifying.

When he had finally determined he had gone completely mad, she had come and had touched him, had awakened something buried deeply within him that he hardly recognized. She had come and wrapped her arms around him, banishing the terror that engulfed him for a time, soothing his fear with her caress, the dulcet tone of her voice, and the soft scent of roses in her hair. And finally, he had slept.

For how long, he had no idea, but it had been a peaceful, dreamless slumber. When he awoke to the blackness again, it had taken him several moments to remember where he was, that he held her in his arms. She was sleeping—he could feel her steady breath on his neck. She smelled so sweet, he thought drowsily, and for the first time in days he felt safe, a comfort in her arms that soothed the ragged edges of his mind.

But then the powerful terror struck him anew. He was
blind!
God, dear
God
, how could this have happened? What sin had he committed that the Lord would strike him blind? The punishment seemed so cruel—too cruel to allow her to bear it with him. Was his hell to be hers too? What sort of life was this, bound to a blind man who had married her for revenge?
Cast me to hell
,
but not her, dear God, not her.
No! He would not commend her to hell with him—she had to go. As soon as possible, without looking back. She had to go!

He suddenly shoved her away, ignoring the small, sleepy cry of alarm. “Go on, Lilliana. Go to your room,” he growled.

She stirred; the mattress dipped next to him and he understood she had come up on her elbow. “Adrian, are you all right?” she murmured. “Can I get you something?”

“Please God, don’t treat me like an invalid,” he said nastily, and roiled away from her. “Go. Go back to your rooms.”

Her hand touched his bare shoulder, and he jerked away from her lest he succumb to the comfort of her arms again. “Adrian, I meant what I said. I won’t leave you.”

“I don’t
want
you here, Lilliana! Go!” he said more forcefully.

“I will not allow you to push me away,” she said stubbornly. “You need me, and I—”

“Jesus, did you hear me? Get
out!
” he bellowed. Silence. What was she doing? He at once felt very self-conscious and unsure of himself … he was not in control.

“No,” she said quietly.

Now she was alarming him. All right, all right, in a moment of weakness he had turned to her. But the Princess of the Grange would
not
talk herself into some foolish sense of responsibility. He rolled again, groping for the edge of the bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he gripped the mattress on either side of his knees, afraid to stand, afraid of the awkward steps into blackness. “Go back to your rustic little Grange and leave me be!” he growled.

“I’m not going anywhere. Have you forgotten? I am
married
to you,” she said firmly.

His alarm gave way to panic—sheer, unarguable panic. Was she insane? Was she so dense she could not
comprehend what he had become, how it would ruin her life? “Not for long,” he said bluntly. “I intend to divorce you.” He heard her swallow convulsively.
Good.
Someday she would thank him for his cruelty.

“I will fight you,” she muttered softly.

Good
God
, she was stubborn! He made a sound of great disgust and shook his head. “You are unabashedly stupid, aren’t you?” he sneered. “A plain little idiot. What must I say to get through that thick head of yours? I am
through
with you, Lilliana. I don’t want you here. I am releasing you so you can spread your thighs for Benedict. Go!” he snapped, and winced, nauseated by his own reprehensible words.

“Don’t be an idiot, Adrian,” she shot back. “I married you for better or worse, and I am not going anywhere. So just stop this!”

He shoved to his feet, wildly praying he did not stumble headlong into a chair. With his hands he groped in front of him. The wall.
Thank God.
He turned so that his back was pressed against something familiar. “By all that is holy, I cannot speak any plainer, madam. I want you gone from Longbridge. I don’t give a bloody damn about your misguided sense of duty. I want you out of my sight—”

His breath stuck in his lungs. She was out of his sight, all right, but he could feel her eyes on him, imagined them full of pity, and his anger soared. “It would not matter if I could see you now. I wanted to be rid of you long before this happened. It was a mistake to have married you, a
colossal
mistake. Heed me, madam, I do not want a parish princess for a wife. I want you gone!”

She said nothing for a moment, but then he heard the bed creak, the rustling of the linens as she climbed out of bed. “All right,” she said softly, and he heard her move away, then the door open and close. Adrian waited for a moment, his fingers spreading against the wall at his back to make sure it did not go anywhere. She was gone. Oh God, hopefully one day she would understand. He
sagged against the wall as another blinding headache forced his chin to his chest.

“I’ll go, but only for the moment. I
will not
leave you.”

Her voice cracked the air; Adrian lurched upright, straining uselessly to see her, his pulse racing at having been so shamelessly fooled. He heard the door open and the sound of her dressing gown as she whisked through it, then the loud, resounding slam of it when she shoved it closed.

This time, he had no doubt she was gone.

It had been four weeks to the day, Lilliana thought as she marched down the long corridor of the east wing. Hugo and Maude followed closely behind, the bells she had fastened around their necks jangling loudly. The door to the breakfast room was open, and she could hear Adrian’s loud groan before she reached it. A smile slowly spread her lips; she marched across the threshold, and punched her fists to her hips as she surveyed the room. Adrian was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands. Max stood at the sideboard behind him, shaking his head fiercely in warning, grimacing and pointing wildly at Adrian.

Lilliana blithely ignored him. “Still in high dudgeon, I see,” she quipped, and glided into the room with her dogs close behind.

“High dudgeon!” Adrian snapped, and straightened slowly, his eyes staring blankly in front of him. “I assure you I am hardly afflicted with such a feminine weakness, but I
am
sick to death of those curs!”

Max shook his head so hard that fine wisps of hair stood straight out as he anxiously pointed at the dogs. Lilliana merely smiled; the staff was intimidated by Adrian’s fierceness, but not her. She had made the discovery that he was capable of feeling after all, and on some level she delighted in provoking those feelings. And
since his accident, she rarely had to try. He reserved the most bitter of his emotions for her.

“My pups adore you, Adrian,” she announced sweetly, and settled herself directly across from him. His sightless eyes unabashedly fascinated her; she marveled at their ability to convey the emotions he so easily masked when he could see. Judging by the glint in them now, he was greatly displeased.

“I don’t give a damn—I hope to heaven you take them with you when you return to Blackfield Grange,” he snarled, and shoved his hands through his hair, making it look as if it hadn’t been combed in weeks.

Lilliana chuckled. “What, the Grange
again
, Adrian? You have apparently forgotten—for at least the hundredth time, I am quite certain—that I am not going to the Grange.”

Adrian’s face darkened. “Do you want my opinion?” he drawled nastily.

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Why don’t you give it to me first, and then I shall decide?”

Max’s mouth dropped open in amazement before he threw back his head and closed his eyes in mortification. Adrian punched his elbows to the table and leaned forward, glaring at a point over her shoulder. “Very well, then, Princess, brace yourself,” he drawled nastily. “It is my opinion that you are an immature, selfish, and woefully ignorant country bumpkin who is not fit to shine my shoes!”

“Is that all?” Lilliana laughed, and winked at the butler. “You must congratulate me, Max. I have apparently improved over yesterday. As you are in such fine spirits, my lord, perhaps you would agree to walk in the gardens with a woefully ignorant country bumpkin?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. “If you won’t leave Longbridge, then at least have the decency to leave me be,” he said, and motioned angrily for Max, who rushed forward, grasping Adrian’s arm and the chair at the same time. Adrian rose cautiously, his hands gripping the table until he was confident on Max’s arm. “To
my rooms,” he muttered irritably, “and kick the stuffing from those beasts if they dare step in our path.”

Lilliana rose too. Hugo and Maude immediately sprang to their feet like chubby little sentinels, paying rapt attention to her every movement.

At the door, Adrian paused at the sound of their bells. “Do not follow me!” he all but shouted.

“I am not following you,” she replied calmly. “I am going to
my
rooms. Come, pups.”

“What are you waiting for?” he snarled at Max. “Be quick about it!” With a nervous hitch, Max gingerly placed one hand on Adrian’s waist, then wrapped the other around Adrian’s upper arm, and began to lead him with great care down the corridor. Frowning at the pair, Lilliana followed slowly behind with her hands clasped behind her back. Adrian walked as if he were one hundred and fifty years old, one arm stretched far in front of him, his steps measured and shuffled. Exasperated, she sighed loudly.

“You may remedy your impatience by leaving Longbridge,” he irritably reminded her.

“Why? I am hardly bothering you.”

“I beg to differ. You have bothered me since the day we were wed.”

Again, Max shook his head—this time, at his feet.

“You needn’t remind me of that,” Lilliana replied in a singsong voice. “You’ve been quite plain about it, actually. Oh, Hugo! Give that to me!” The puppy obediently relinquished the linen napkin he had helped himself to in the breakfast room, and waddled over to see what Maude was so frantically sniffing. Bells tinkled softly as the two dogs sniffed around the leg of the furniture.