Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“The curse is real.” Thomas stared at his shaking hand. “Which means that this illness was only the first step. It will get worse from here.”
He swirled the whisky in his glass, his heart heavy. The realization had hit him as the days passed, his hands still shaking. He had woken that morning with a headache.
It is not fair. I should have had more time.
He could remember his father, barely. How, at first, he had had the occasional bad day with many good ones between, yet over time the bad days had outnumbered the good, until at last there were only bad days and worse days.
He could remember his gaunt face, once handsome but wasted away with illness and strife. Thomas clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, forcing the image from his mind and focusing on the page of the diary in front of him.
“There must be something in here.” He scanned the page, squinting as he tried to decipher his father’s scrawl. “Come on.”
He saw it. His heart sped up, and he leaped from his chair. He held the diary in front of him, ignoring the way his hand shook. “This is it! This is what I have been looking for.”
He could barely contain his excitement. He rubbed his eyes, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. His heart soared; his stomach leaped.
The scribbles on the page before him swam in and out of focus, but he squinted, willing the words to behave. He had not slept; instead, he threw himself into his research for hours.
And it had finally paid off.
“I have discovered the cause of our affliction. The curse that has doomed my line,” Thomas read aloud.
“A cousin killed another, granting our line the title of Marquess. In her grief, the widow cursed him and all his descendants, that they might never live a long and full life. The witch’s name haunts me.
I dream of her every night. I wake up screaming. I feel my body begin to whither.”
Thomas cursed. He had read enough of his father’s diaries to know that there would be nothing else of use in the pages. The writing was so spidery he could barely read it, but that did not kill the hope in his chest.
“A cousin… When did our line take over?” Thomas ran back to his desk, flinging the papers off it until he found what he was looking for: his family tree.
He ran a finger along it. Please let her name be there. He found where his line took over. Lord Gareth Heathcliff, who had killed his cousin, Lord Simon Codswallader.
“And who was his wife?”
Thomas found the name, and he slammed his fist on the table. “All I have to do is find her descendant. She will be able to fix this curse, and all will be well.”
“Thomas? Are you all right?” The door to his study burst open, and Vivian appeared, looking wide-eyed. “I heard a bang. Did something happen?”
Thomas took in her worried expression and her pale face, and he shook his head. “I was just excited, that is all.”
“Then you have made some headway on your research?” Vivian took a step toward it, hesitating as she looked at him. “Does this mean you will finally tell me what it is you are working on?”
Thomas opened his mouth, the words already forming, and then he shook his head. I do not want to worry her or get her hopes up.
“Soon, but not yet.”
He saw her face fall, but she did not press him. Instead, she retreated from him, disappearing and reappearing a moment later with a tray of tea and biscuits.
“What is this?” He gestured to the tray, hastily tidying the papers away.
“You have been working on this for hours. I thought you would appreciate a snack.” She put the tray on the table, and he joined her, sitting down on the floor across from her, leaning against an armchair – he found that sitting on the floor when he was pent up helped ground him.
Vivian arched an eyebrow at him. “You need to look after yourself. Your grandmother will be furious if I let you become skin and bones.”
He arched an eyebrow at her and gestured to himself. “I do not think I am at risk of any such thing. Do you?”
Vivian smiled at him. “No, but I would prefer to keep it that way.”
He noticed that she was rubbing her right hand, and he frowned. “Are you hurt?”
She glanced down and shook her head. “Not really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, looked down at the floor, and then back up at him. “Actually, I may have slapped the Viscount of Brixten. Twice.”
Thomas blinked. “You slapped him?”
“He heard you were ill and asked me to run away with him.” Vivian explained.
“He did what?” Thomas’s blood pounded in his ears. “Has the man gone completely mad?”
Has news of my impending death weakened my reputation so thoroughly? Thomas did not realize he had been shifting to stand until Vivian laid a hand on his arm. The warmth of her fingers spread through him, and he returned to his seat, jaw clenched so hard he feared his teeth would break.
“He is not worth your time, Thomas. Apparently, he has grown tired of his husbandly duties, especially now his young wife is pregnant.” Vivian’s lip curled. “So I slapped him. I suspect he will bear the mark for a few days. But it might be in the papers. We were in public when it happened.”
“It will be a change from them talking about me dying.” Thomas massaged his jaw.
“Another thing we have the Viscount to thank for.” Vivian scowled. “He is the source of the rumors. He thought it would help win me to his side.”
“You are too good for a worm like that.” Thomas growled. “But the man has crossed me for the last time. I cannot let this stand. I will remind him what it means to cross the Marquess of Elington. I will ruin him.”
“Do not.” Vivian shook her head, surprising Thomas. “As much as I want him to suffer for his actions, the true victims will be his poor wife and their child. They should not pay for his thoughtlessness. The Viscountess is young, na?ve. He took advantage of that.”
How can she be so forgiving? The rage in his heart died to a gentle simmer as he looked at Vivian, listening to the compassion and practicality in her words. She is twice the woman I deserve.
“Very well. But I cannot let his behavior go unaddressed. It will only add fuel to the fire the wretch has started.” Thomas massaged his jaw.
“I wish we could make him do his duty. If he absconds like the coward he is…” Vivian shook her head.
“I think we can arrange that. I know of several business deals he is putting through, and a few of them owe me favors. I shall have them add morality clauses to the contract. If he breaks them, the contract will be void.” Thomas stroked his chin.
“And in the meantime, I will see him barred from several of the gentleman’s clubs that will embarrass him.
Your rejection will have hurt his pride, I am only sorry that I did not see you in action. ”
“I suspect it is lucky for him that you were not there.” Vivian tilted her head toward him, making it a question.
“I doubt I would have responded well to such impudence from the man.” Thomas shook his head in disbelief. “He is either very stupid or truly believes that I am at death’s door. Most men would not dream of crossing me. After all, I have something of a reputation.”
“I do not think it is any indication of a change to your reputation, Thomas.” Vivian squeezed his hand. “You are still just as feared as when we first were married.”
“Not to you, I hope.” His eyes searched her face.
“No, quite the opposite. You may appear the cold, calculating Marquess to everyone else, but that is not really who you are.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“And who do you think I am?”
“A kind and noble man. You are honest and witty. You are honorable and sweet.” She ran her thumb across the back of his knuckles, sending heat through his hand into his arm and chest. “You make me feel safe.”
“That is my duty. I am your husband and your Marquess.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat.
He wanted her to feel safe. He was glad that he had given that to her. He wanted to tell her how important she was to him, but it would not be fair. He swallowed the words.
A look flashed across her face, and she bit her lip. “Is it only duty?”
No. “I care for you, Vivian.” He could not quite see her face in the dim light from his dying fire. “We are friends after all.”
He thought he saw her flinch, but perhaps it was a trick of the light. He looked toward the desk again.
I cannot tell her the whole truth, not until I know for sure I can rid myself of this curse.
He would not repeat his father’s mistake. He could not do that to her. I just need a little more time, that is all. His eyes fell on the clock, and he blinked.
“Is that really the time?” He nodded toward it.
Vivian followed his gaze and nodded. “Yes. That is another reason I wanted to bring you something to eat. If you had fallen asleep at your desk, I would have woken you and ensured you went to bed.”
“Would you indeed? And what makes you think I would have done as you asked?” He leaned back and grinned.
“What makes you think I would have asked?” She countered just as smoothly.
How did I not see it before? Her shyness had evaporated, leaving a blunt candor that stirred something in his chest. “And then we would have been locked in a battle of wills.” He shrugged; the image was not altogether unpleasant.
“You sound as though you would enjoy it.” Vivian drew her legs up to her chest as she sat on the sofa. “You do not have to sit on the floor, you know; you can join me on the sofa; there is plenty of room.”
“I like the floor. There is something… comforting about it.” He patted the thick rug beneath him.
“Comforting?” Vivian’s brows rose.
“Yes. It is difficult to explain, but it puts things into perspective. Everything looks different when you are on the ground.” Thomas shrugged. “And sometimes, it just… feels right? Especially this late at night.”
“Is that why you have such a thick carpet in here?” Vivian nodded at the carpet.
“Sitting on the floor is one thing; I see no reason to be uncomfortable while I do it.” He stifled a yawn, stretching so hard that he heard several pops from his body. “Why are you awake, anyway? It is an ungodly hour.”
“I could not sleep, so I thought I would check on you.” She made a noncommittal gesture.
She does not even know about the curse, and already I am keeping her from bed. Guilt flared in his chest.
“You sound like you were worried about me.”
“In a way. You have been working so hard lately, and I worry that you will burn the candle at both ends.” She gestured around them. “You will end up sick again if you do not look after yourself, and I have no wish to bully you into taking your medicine.”
Her tone was teasing, but her words reminded Thomas of the reason for his work. “I do not want you to have to play nursemaid to me.”
“I do not mind it, though you are the most stubborn patient I could imagine.” She gave him a shy smile that made his heart soar. “It is nice to look after you.”
“Still, I do not want that to become a habit. I watched my mother care for my father…” It destroyed her. He clenched his fist and shook his head. “I do not want the same fate for you.”
“And what fate would that be?” Vivian leaned forward.
To watch me die. “To care for me at the expense of all else.”
“Is that what happened to her?”
“My father was her world, and she was his. They loved each other so totally and completely that they were constantly smiling at one another.” He closed his eyes, imagining them as they were, before the bad days were the only days they had.
“I can even remember them finishing one another’s sentences. He used to tease her, wind her up.”
“Sounds like a certain marquess I know.” Vivian let out an amused chuckle.
Thomas gave her a wry smile. “I do not remember much of them. I was only six or so when he died. And she did not long survive him.”
“You became a marquess at six?” Vivian’s eyes widened.
“Yes. Though Grandmama supported me. She made sure no one could take advantage of my youth.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She was like a lioness with her cub.”
“She is still like that, I think. I have seen the way she protects those she loves.” Vivian’s fingers twitched as though she were going to take his hand in hers, but instead she tapped on her thigh.
“It sounds like your mother chose to care for your father. Perhaps it made her feel close to him, even if he was dying.”
Thomas shrugged, pushing the memory of his mother’s sobs from his mind. “Who knows? Either way, I would rather you not have to experience what she did.”
“Then you must look after yourself.” She unfolded a leg and gently nudged his toe with hers. “Because if you are sick, you can be sure I will be there to look after you. You would if the situation were reversed.”
“I would,” he admitted. But it is not the same.
“Then you cannot expect me not to. Whether you want me to or not, I also took vows. In sickness and in health. We are married, and I meant that part at least.” She grinned at him.
“Then I will endeavor to make sure that I am mostly in good health.” He smiled at her, but it did not quite reach his eyes.
I will never be my father. I will not ruin your life.
The clock chimed on the hour, and Vivian yawned. Thomas stood up and held out a hand. “We should get to bed. It is late.”
Her eyes widened, and he hastened to add, “I will escort you to your room, and then return to mine.”
She nodded. As they reached the door, he thought she might ask him to stay, but she did not. He forced himself not to turn to look over his shoulder as he walked back to his own room.
As he climbed into his bed, he breathed in deeply. “I will break this curse, Vivian, and then, I will ask you to stay.”