Shattered Rainbows (24 page)

It took Nicholas only two days to complete the arrangements to return to Wales. Michael was not surprised; having known Nicholas for twenty-five years, he was well acquainted with the efficient, razor-sharp mind concealed beneath the casual charm.

By the day of departure, Michael had progressed to sitting up, though doing so was painful. As they waited for the coaches to come, he fingered the edge of his robe restlessly. "Is that rumble outside the departing Mowbrys?"

Nicholas glanced out the window. "That was the baggage wagon leaving. The coach is being delayed while that over-exuberant canine called Clancy is being corraled. Anne Mowbry is looking understandably harassed. Ah, Charles is exerting his authority as an officer and gentleman and ordering the beast into the carriage. It looks like they are finally on their way."

"It doesn't take long for a home to come unraveled."

Michael wondered if Catherine would come to say goodbye. It might be easier if she didn't, yet he hated the thought that he might not see her again. Perhaps she would say a public farewell, when he was being carried out on a litter. He hated that thought also. "This really was a home for several months."

"Credit going to Anne and Catherine, I assume. I like them both immensely." Nicholas gave his friend a shrewd glance. "Especially Catherine."

There were advantages to learning to control one's emotions from infancy. "They're both a credit to the female half of the race. I'll miss them and the children. I'll even miss Louis the Lazy, who is surely the most inert dog on God's green earth."

Nicholas laughed. "The carriages I hired to take us to the barge will be here soon. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be." Michael sighed. "I had hoped that when the time came, I would be able to walk out of the house, but that's obviously impossible."

"All in good time. From what Dr. Kinlock said before he returned to London, within a few months you should be entirely recovered, barring some colorful new scars."

"He also said I must lie about doing nothing for weeks to come." Michael's fingers drummed on the coverlet. "Patience has never been my strong point."

"True, but don't worry about whether you can be still for that long," Nicholas said pleasantly. "If you try to push yourself too hard, I will nail you to the bed."

Michael smiled, knowing full well that his friend's words were not a joke. He would have a leisurely convalescence whether he wanted it or not.

A soft rap on the door heralded Catherine. "Nicholas, your carriages have arrived."

The earl glanced from her to Michael. "I'll go and supervise the baggage loading." Tactful as a cat, he left.

Catherine's hair was drawn back simply, emphasizing the fine bones of her face. Her cheekbones were more prominent than when they met. She had lost weight, much of it because of the work and worry he had caused.

Eyes not meeting his, she said, "I hate good-byes, but I suppose they're necessary."

"They make it clear when something is over," he agreed. "When are you and Amy leaving for Paris?"

"Tomorrow. The house will seem empty tonight with everyone gone." She drifted to a window and gazed out at the ramparts. "It's strange. You and I became good friends, yet much of that was a result of being in the same place at the same time."

Was that what she thought of the complicated, undefined feelings between them? "I would like to think we would be friends under any circumstances."

"I'm sure we would be." A pulse was beating hard in her throat. "Perhaps what I meant was that our paths would not have crossed if not for the war. Since you're selling out of the army, we probably won't meet again."

He was painfully aware of that fact. "If you and Colin should ever wish to tour Wales, you would be very welcome at Bryn Manor. You would enjoy Nicholas's wife, Clare."

"Nicholas is wonderful," she said with a quick smile. "He could charm the fish from the sea. What is his wife like?"

"Very down to earth. Clare was a village schoolmistress before her marriage. She says there is nothing like teaching thirty children to make one practical." He spoke almost at random, all of his attention on the lithe figure silhouetted against the window. Even though passion was beyond him at the moment, he knew the memory of Catherine's provocative curves would haunt him through sleepless nights the rest of his life.

One thing must be said before he left. "A simple thank-you seems inadequate when you saved my life several times over. I am deeply in your debt, Catherine."

"And you saved Colin and Charles."

"Lending a horse is hardly in the same category with what you did," he said dryly.

"All women are nurses when necessary," she said with an embarrassed shrug.

"Oh?" He held out his hand. Uncertainly she came forward and clasped it. He pushed her sleeve up with his free hand, revealing the small, not yet healed scar inside her elbow. "This is hardly normal nursing. Elspeth told me. Why didn't you?"

Her mouth curved ruefully. "I was ashamed of my presumption. Though the transfusion worked out well, it might easily have killed you."

"Instead, it saved my life," he said quietly. "You gave me your heart's blood. I will never receive a more precious gift."

"Given for selfish reasons." Shimmering tears made her aqua eyes enormous. She blinked them away. "I don't like my patients to die. It's bad for my saintly reputation."

His hand tightened on hers. "Catherine, if ever you need any kind of help, come to me. I will do anything in my power."

Her gaze shifted away. "Thank you. I'll remember that."

He raised their joined hands and kissed her fingertips, then released her. "See that you do."

"Good-bye, Michael. I'm very glad our paths crossed." She touched his cheek with gossamer lightness, then turned and left the room. She swayed gracefully, a sensual saint.

He wanted to call her back, to lock her in his arms so she could never escape. He wanted to plead with her to leave her husband and live with him no matter what the consequences. To prevent that, he clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw ached.

Perhaps he might have asked her to leave her husband if he had not once before urged a woman to do exactly that. He had already used his lifetime's supply of folly.

The door closed behind her. As he listened to her retreating footsteps, he felt the tightening of his lungs that heralded an asthma attack. Bands of fire constricted his breathing and the first tendrils of fear clawed into his muscles.

He lay back and forced himself to inhale and exhale very slowly. In and out, in and out, until the air was moving smoothly again. The scorching pressure and fear faded away.

Drained, he stared at the ceiling. It was the closest he had come to an asthma attack in years. Since Caroline had died.

He closed his eyes. He had done the right thing. Someday he would be proud of that, but now he felt only anguish.

Catherine was the most remarkable woman he had ever known. And he hoped to God that he would never see her again.

The door of the London town house was opened by a neatly dressed housemaid. Catherine said, "Is Mrs. Mowbry home? If she is, please tell her that Mrs. and Miss Melbourne are here."

The housemaid glanced curiously at their travel-stained clothing before going to obey. A minute later, Anne came swiftly into the vestibule. "Catherine, how wonderful to see you! I thought you were still in France." She hugged both of her visitors.

Catherine noticed that Amy was now almost as tall as Anne, and Anne had regained her figure after the birth of her second son. Much can happen in a year. Too much. "We've only just arrived in England." She took off her dusty bonnet. Her temples were throbbing with a rare headache. "Is Charles home? Or your mother-in-law?"

"They're both out." After a shrewd glance at Catherine's face, Anne continued, "Amy, would you like to join Molly and Jamie? I believe they are about to have tea in the nursery."

Amy brightened. "Oh, yes, I'd like that. I've so much to tell them. I want to see Clancy and Louis, too."

After the housemaid took Amy off, Anne ushered her friend into the small drawing room. As soon as the door closed, she said, "It isn't polite to say this, but you look downright haggard. Are you ill, or simply tired by the long journey?"