Chapter 29 Rhys #2
Rhys stared at the book, not knowing what to say.
That blasted book. How much misery it had caused, from Magellan’s near death to Erickson’s covetous treachery.
Still, the last thing he wanted to do was express those sentiments and upset her.
He’d just gotten her back. He gently steered the conversation to where he needed it to go and softly said, “I don’t know how to ask for your forgiveness.
How you ever could . . . I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.
” He choked the words out while she watched him with solemn eyes.
“That your father was an impostor. How can you ever forgive me?”
She wasn’t looking at him anymore but staring stoically straight ahead. She clasped the diary to her chest. “How did you discover the truth?”
“I couldn’t wait to see you. I went to the vicar’s the next day, only to find the man had no cousin. It took me some time to unravel the truth. Erickson hired someone to lure you away.”
She looked back to him in shock. “Lord Erickson?”
“He hired a man to pose as your father and tell us enough truths to believe him. He wanted the diary.” Rhys stared at her wrists, at the bruises from where she had been tied up. “Tell me what happened,” he pleaded in a whisper.
For a long time she didn’t speak. She stared into the distance as if remembering. “As soon as we were down the drive, he drugged me.”
Rhys uttered a curse and stood up to pace.
“When I woke, it was night. I was still in the carriage,” she recounted in a quiet voice devoid of emotion. “He tried to hurt me, but I fought back and escaped.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Lord Erickson would do such a thing.”
“He wanted the diary. He had some foolish belief—” Rhys stopped, realizing what he was about to say.
“That the story’s true?” She turned bright eyes to him.
He resumed pacing, unable to hold her gaze.
Could he really take the leap of faith and truly believe she was a time traveler from the future?
If he did, he would be as whimsical as his late father, with his head in the clouds and believing in the impossible.
Doing so went against every grain of logic inside him.
How could Magellan have come from the future?
How could a song save the world? A song! As if music had such power.
He turned back to her. They locked eyes, and then he looked at her ring.
She glanced down to it, realizing he’d seen it, and he said honestly, “Magellan . . . I don’t know what to believe.
But right now, it is not important. What is most important is for you to be safe and whole.
” He knelt by her bedside. “I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you even though I know you can never forgive me.”
She looked weary and leaned her head back against the pillow. “That is not necessary. I already forgive you.”
“Why? I sent you off with a monster! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He could hear his voice rising, but he couldn’t stop it.
She was scowling at him now. “Well, I do. You didn’t know who he was.”
“Stop being so kind.”
“I’m not being kind. I understand why you did it. You thought I was crazy.” She motioned. “You still think it. I can see it in your eyes. If you came to my time and told me you were from the 1800s and believed in a mythical diary written by Merlin’s sister, I would think you’re crazy too.”
Rhys forced himself not to comment. She sounded so accepting, and he did not want to upset her. They could discuss her convictions another day. Right now he needed to help her heal. “Let us put the debate of the diary aside.”
“The debate? Is that what this is?” She gave a weary sigh.
“Rhys, I don’t think you fully grasp the magnitude of what’s happening.
I only have until Winter Solstice and I haven’t even gotten yet the first part of the song I’ve been sent here to find.
There are four parts out there somewhere and I’m running out of time. ”
Rhys didn’t comment, uncomfortable with where this whole conversation was going. “Could we please, please put aside your quest to save the world momentarily?”
Magellan choked on a laugh and closed her eyes in exhaustion. “All right. How did you even find me?”
“I’ve been searching all over England for you. I finally found Mary at the Chicken House.”
She opened her eyes again in surprise. “You went to the Hen House and talked to Mary?”
He leaned forward. “Who is Oliver?” he bit out, his jealousy ridiculous given the circumstances. But who was he? Was he a suitor? Was he sweet on her? “He gave you a violin?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, they must be worried sick.”
He sat back. At least she said they and not he. “Who? The Lucky Shoes?”
“Horseshoes. My friends. I was traveling with them. Is there some way to get word to them that I’m okay? I’ve been at the Argyll Rooms every day and walking back to the park to sleep with them.”
“You’ve been sleeping in a park? Do you know how dangerous that is?” He stood up to pace once more. “Why didn’t you send word to me from Mary’s? You could have told her you were under my protection.”
“Was I?” she asked frankly.
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I told you I would come in two days.”
“Well, forgive me for getting kidnapped!”
“And instead of sending word from Mary’s Hen House, you came here with a group of unlucky horseshoes to sleep in a park? Do you know what could have happened to you? What did happen?”
“I was looking for Fanny Mendelssohn.”
“Yes, I know.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Upsetting her further would not be good for her condition. “You found her too,” he said bluntly and noted the shock on her face. The bruise on her right cheek made him want to go hunt the bastard down who’d given it to her.
“What? Rhys! How?”
“Miss Mendelssohn heard the music you were playing and arrived when I did. I invited her to come speak with you the day after tomorrow.”
“You did?” Her face lit up with hope.
“I will do anything for you,” he swore quietly.
He would invite every damn female composer in Europe to his house if it made her happy.
“Surely you know that.” Tears welled in her eyes and he begged, “Don’t cry.
It will make my own tears return. I’ve already shocked Mrs. Weathers enough.
” He actually did feel the threat of tears and cleared his throat.
“I’ll have her bring you a tray and assist you.
The important thing is for you to rest now and recover. ”
As he headed to the door she called him back. “Rhys? If you’ll truly do anything for me . . .” she repeated his words softly.
“Anything. You have only to ask.” He stood at attention in the doorway.
She held the diary out. “Finish translating it for me?”
He forced himself to keep his face expressionless.
That bloody damn book was becoming the bane of his existence.
He nodded. “Of course. After you’ve recovered.
” He didn’t step forward to take it from her outstretched hand.
Instead, he left and closed the door. He would put off translating the rest of the diary for as long as he could.