Marriage By Arrangement (22 page)

Cailin shut the door, and then leaned against the heavy wood, as all her strength seeped from her legs.

A small tap sounded on the door.

Cailin opened the door a crack.

“Cailin, what is wrong with Lord Avondale?” Fiona’s pretty face looked pale, and her eyes were like huge, blue pools of clear water. She rubbed her wrists.

The fluttering in Cailin’s stomach came from her babe. “I wish I knew.” She pressed her hand over her heart hoping to slow its pace. She took another deep breath, and her customary composure settled over her.

The candelabra lit Avondale’s luxurious room with a serene glow that infused strength back into her legs.

“Thank God, Fiona you’re safe.” She moved to Avondale’s huge bed and bent to loosen his twisted cravat, which had somehow remained tied. “Stay with me while I bathe this blood from my husband’s head, and I will tell you what I know.”

Fiona’s dress rustled as she perched behind her on one of Avondale’s chairs.

Cailin dipped her cloth into the fresh pitcher of water Molly had brought, and then gently sponged her unconscious husband’s high forehead. He looked very white and his lashes lay long and thick on his high cheekbones. Had he lost weight? She caressed his lean cheek. Even now, a deep line between his handsome thick brows refused to smooth. Late night stubble pushed through the ruddy skin of his face, and his sculpted lips were slightly open. His big chest rose and fell as if he was sleeping. Even asleep, his great strength looked undiminished.

She glanced at Fiona.

“He could have snapped me in two. Yet, he didna. Though he was taking me against my will, he didna hurt me.” She touched his limp hand. “My scratches came from bushes. He took care not to bend my arms. Had I not fought him, I would still be intact.”

“But where was he taking you?”

Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems his black spells hurt him more than anyone else. What demon torments him?”

“This time no one was injured. But his…his times of lunacy are becoming more frequent. I’m beginning to live in fear of him.” She shook her head, dipped the cloth into the cool water, wrung it, and placed it on Avondale’s forehead. “Not fear for myself, but for you, for my baby, for bodyguards, or anyone who dares stand in his way.”

“Perhaps we can puzzle out his behavior together. Tell me what you know.” Fiona leaned forward in her chair.

Cailin sighed. “You were visiting the dressmaker the day the dowager duchess arrived. We sat down together and had a long chat. I discovered that Avondale’s mother attached herself to him during our wedding to keep him out of trouble. The royal mums didn’t trust his moods.” She turned a wry face to Fiona. “Rather that, than out of over-zealous affection for Avondale and snobbery for me, as I had mistakenly thought.”

Finding it easier not to face her sister-in-law, Cailin turned back to moistening her husband’s face. “The dowager knew of Avondale’s spells. She told me he’d been having them since about the age of nineteen.” Cailin sighed. “Prior to that time, Avondale had been a model son, a gentleman, and a highly sought suitor for high born English ladies.”

Fiona jumped up. “The old lady knew, and yet she allowed you to marry her son!”

Cailin had thought worse things when her mother-in-law explained Avondale’s situation. “I do feel betrayed. I’m afraid they both knew.”

Fiona sat tensely on the edge of her chair, her hands tightly clasped.

When Avondale showed no sign of stirring, Cailin hovered over him a few more seconds, and then pulled up her favorite chair and faced Fiona. “I had entirely the wrong impression of the royal mother. She’s not at all snobbish. Nor cold. Rather, she felt nervous and on edge, fearing Avondale would create a scene. She’s really quite nice.”

“Nice! To marry off her—”

“Don’t!” Cailin shrugged. “Please don’t call Avondale names.”

“To marry off her son when he was obviously so ill.”

Cailin laid her hand on Fiona’s clenched fist. “We both knew the duchess would lose her land and what little money she has left if Avondale failed to marry wealth. The dear lady wanted to give her grandbairns all the inheritance she could.”

Cailin caressed the small roundness of her stomach. “The duchess gave my baby an honorable title and extensive lands.”

“But not a husband any woman could love!”

Despite herself, Cailin heaved a sigh. “Oh Fiona, I do love him. How could I not? He is kind and loving when we are alone. He’s intelligent and even funny at times.” She nodded at Fiona’s disbelief. “He’s a perfect husband except for two major flaws. I still don’t know why he snubs me in public, though I think I may have figured out that answer. And he has these times when he’s no longer in control of himself. But I do love him.”

“But Cailin, you deserve a sane husband!” Fiona wagged a finger so close, her sister-in-law’s faint sweet scent overcame the slight smell of blood. “Avondale’s a dangerous man!”

“Calm yourself.” Cailin pulled in a deep breath.

Fiona plunked back into her chair.

“The royal mother swears this is the very worst she’s ever seen her son behave.” She frowned at Fiona’s unbelieving look. “Something ignites his severe reactions. If I can discover the source, perhaps I can help him.” Cailin gazed out the open window into a dark sky. “The duchess advised me to ask Avondale what bothers him.” She folded her hands over her stomach. “I shall, just as soon as he becomes…more balanced.”

Fiona fell to her knees in front of Cailin’s chair and engulfed her sister-in-law in a warm hug. “I’ll pray for you and Lord Avondale. Shall I stay here and help you with him?” Fiona whispered.

Warmth crept into Cailin’s chilled heart. She clasped the younger lass’s hand. “No, dear. I fear there is something about you in particular that stirs up my husband.” She turned to peer through tears that suddenly blurred her vision. “Avondale seems to have a particular problem with you.” She dabbed at her eyes with her lace handkerchief. “And I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

“Didn’t the dowager duchess have any suggestions?”

“Dear Fiona, always so quick to help. Yes, she did say Avondale started to act rather more strange just before the Culloden Battle last April.”

“Then the duchess doesn’t think your wedding set Lord Avondale off?”

“No. On the contrary. She said he seemed much better after the wedding. She said he enjoyed the best spirits she’d ever seen.”

Fiona’s pretty brow furrowed, then she put her finger to her cheek in that adorable way she had when deep in thought. “Really?”

“Actually, I think something about you causes him to fall into his spells. He first began showing stress after you arrived with Megan and Brody.”

Fiona opened her mouth and looked about to say something, and then snapped it closed. She leaned forward. Her warm, soft hands curled around Cailin’s cold ones.

“I’ve heard Lord Avondale mention Bloody Billy. Do you know to whom he’s referring?”

“Bloody Billy?” Fiona frowned and pursed her lips. “I have no idea.”

A moan floated from the bed. Cailin glanced at the athletic form of her husband stirring, his muscles rippling, his fingers moving, and his feet twitching. “You best go.”

“I hate to leave you here alone with him. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Oh, no. Avondale’s never comes close to touching me in any but a gentle and loving way. He’s a very sweet man when we are alone. Do go. He’s waking.”

Cailin heard the rustle of skirts, and then the door closing softly. But she had eyes only for her husband. With the blood cleansed, a huge bump grew purple near his hairline. She perched on the side of his bed and touched his cheek.

Then she lowered her head. No matter how much she loved her husband, her duty now lay with their baby. She cradled her stomach. “I shall do whatever I must to keep you safe,” she whispered.

24

Avondale’s chocolate eyes slowly opened. “Cailin, what happened?” His words sounded slurred. “I had a bad dream.” He put a hand to his head. “Now I have a horrific headache.” He stirred and tried to sit.

“Darling, just lie back.” She laid her cheek next to his and gently brushed her face along the planes of his masculine one. “You’ll be fine. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Mmmm. I love you, dearest.” His smooth baritone almost sounded normal. “You are so good for me. Something about you brings me a sense of peace. Your faith, perhaps?”

Careful not to touch the purple bruise near his scalp, she stroked his hair back from his forehead, luxuriating in the thick texture and the way the slight wave made each strand spring back with a life of its own. She rose from her chair, hitched her day gown slightly, and snuggled next to him on their huge bed. He crooked his muscular arm around her and caressed her shoulder with his long, slender fingers.

She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers over the elegant pattern of hair that dusted his chest. “Who is Bloody Billy?”

He stiffened.

She stroked his chest like she would have a hurt bairn.

“Who told you of Bloody Billy?”

“You did. Won’t you enlighten me?”

He writhed on the bed. His free hand bunched the velvet cover until it became a mound between them, but his forehead furrowed as if he was trying to decide.

She crept over the white velvet mound and snuggled as close as she could, one hand stroking his bare chest. His heart beat a strong rhythm under his sternum.

“It’s no great secret. Bloody Billy is William Hanover, the Duke of Cumberland, King George’s youngest son. He’s a cousin. Second cousin.”

It took every ounce of willpower not to show surprise. “Oh, yes, of course.” She kept her voice soft and moved her hand in gentle circles over the clear definition of the muscles in his chest. His stiffness slowly relaxed.

“Why do you fear him?”

“Dash it all, Cailin!” He pushed her away and tried to sit, but held his head in both hands. A greenish color tinted the area around his mouth. He lay back against the pillows.

She reached over, put her hand on his forehead, gently stroked, and then moved her hand down to cover his eyes. She bent forward to trail kisses down his neck. When she lifted her lips, he’d relaxed.

He sighed. “You’re a wonderful wife.”

She kept her hand over his closed eyes and made her voice soothing and softened it into a whisper. “Tell me why you fear Bloody Billy?”

She held her breath.

Avondale’s body went so still, she feared he had fainted. He pushed her hand off his face. His eyes, darkened to a deep, rich shade of coffee, stared at the ceiling.

She feared he wouldn’t answer, but then his chest rose in a deep sigh as if everything hateful inside had come to the surface and he was releasing noxious fumes.

“I don’t fear the bloody butcher.” His body twisted, and he pushed up to sit back on the numerous pillows lying against the headboard. His Adam’s apple rose and fell in his tanned throat. “The man…embarrasses me.”

“My darling, how could that fat brother of the King possibly embarrass you?”

Her husband’s mobile, sensual mouth barely opened as he spoke quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “You may as well know. Before Culloden, the duke ordered me to command his army as his deputy commander.”

Not so surprising. Nobility oft times recruited cousins and other relatives to lead their armies. Besides chairing a seat in the House of Lords, gentlemen of nobility were required to lead their retainers and countrymen into battle. There had to be more.

She lifted wooden lips in a smile. “And?”

Avondale laid his forearm across his forehead. His words spouted out. “I wanted no part of his bloody war against the Highlanders.” A frown knit his dark brows together. “So, I paid Cumberland half my bank account to purchase a substitute.” He grunted. “My money didn’t satisfy that thief. The greedy fellow wanted the rest of my fortune or he’d still order me to command his battles.” Avondale turned his head away, mouth drawn into a grim line. “I had no stomach for that war. I knew our soldiers, our cannon, and cavalry would decimate the Highlanders. We’d bury their bodies by the thousands in the hills of Scotland.”

She stifled a gasp. He would have been heading the murderous assault that annihilated Brody’s family. And he’d wanted no part of that carnage.

Respect twined around her heart like warm bands of honey. Some of the knots loosened in the back of her neck. The baby fluttered inside her womb. Because he refused to take part in slaughter, the horrible, demonic nightmares tortured him? There had to be more.

Avondale’s face twisted. “Little did I know that Cumberland would murder the Highlanders who fell wounded in the field. He gave no quarter. Nor did I know that after the battle he would comb the Highlands for survivors and hang each one he found.”

His dark eyes blazed straight into hers. “Had I been man enough to command Cumberland’s forces, I might have been able to curtail those murders.”

“Oh, my dearest, you were brave to stand up for your principles. Never could I think of you as a coward.” She kissed his twisted lips until they relaxed and retuned her love. Her heavy heart lightened. Her husband had loftier motives than she could have imagined.

“But Bloody Billy continues to threaten me. He expects more money. More. I have no more money.” He gave a grim smile. “Fortunately, until our son is born or your Papa dies, I can touch not a single pound of your inheritance.” He squeezed her hand. “Even Bloody Billy cannot wring money from a pauper.”

“Papa will live a long time yet. Surely the duke will have forgotten by then.” She wondered at her next thought. “Or perhaps he will die.” Mayhap one of his captains would murder the brute.

“But the unmanly thief wants money now.” Avondale’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I fear he will storm the castle, kidnap you, and hold you for ransom in the Tower.” He pulled her into his arms. “You are too precious for that to happen. I won’t let him take you from me.” He whispered into her hair, “Especially now, while you carry our son.” He held her at arm’s length, and stared at her as if she would disappear before his eyes. “That’s why I tried to save that beautiful fairy. Cumberland thinks I still owe him. My voices told me he planned to kidnap her. I had to take her to a safe place.”