Chapter 15 #2
She swallowed roughly and continued. “They wanted me to make you fall in love with me, then to leave abruptly.”
He went so still it was frightening.
“Say something, please.”
He stared at her, his face pale. “You used me?”
Claire flinched at the word. “Yes, I won’t deny it, but it was only because of the girls.”
She had hurt him. More than she realized she would. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but the words were little and useless in the face of reality. So she stood there, staring at him, waiting.
“Christ, I feel like a puppet,” he said closing his eyes.
“I had no choice,” she said hoarsely.
His eyes opened to reveal his anger. The heat of his gaze forced her to step back. “Who gave you the right to manipulate me, my friends, everyone who came here last night to celebrate our union?”
“I didn’t only take, Jules. I gave you myself in return. I gave you what you wanted—a wife.”
He laughed. The sound stark, cold. “That’s right. You gave me your body. I would say it wasn’t a fair trade, Claire. I lost even more than I already had on that bargain.”
The words cut deep. She deserved his anger and his bitterness. She turned. “I need to find Penelope. She has to be here somewhere.”
“Now who is running away?” Jules reached for her, clamping her shoulder. He turned her around. “Let’s finish this.”
“No.” She took a step back, out of his reach. “We do not have to pretend any longer. And I refuse to hurt you any more than I already have.”
“Claire—” His contemptuous gaze raked her. “If that is your real name . . .”
“It is. That was no lie.”
“Why?” She could hear the rawness in his voice, the need to understand.
Tears glittered on her eyelashes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
“I love you, Jules. That wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.
I fell in love with you, everything about you.
And for a moment I considered sacrificing the lives of the girls to continue our life together.
But I couldn’t do it. I could not sacrifice the lives of others to maintain the happiness I felt in your arms.” She paused as tears fell onto her cheeks.
She forced the words she had to say past the tightness in her throat.
“Last night was a gift I will treasure forever.”
“Last night was a mistake.”
She flinched at the hatred in the voice she loved and drew a sharp breath. “I will always think otherwise. Now, I must go find Penelope, Anna, and Eloise before it is too late.” Claire turned away only to see David at the end of the hall. How much of their conversation had he heard?
“If you are looking for Penelope,” he said, “she is in this chamber.”
“Alive?” she asked, her heart hammering wildly.
David nodded and motioned toward the door. “The physician has been to see her. He had no choice but to cauterize her finger to stop the loss of blood.”
The smell of blood and burnt flesh reached out to her even before she entered the chamber. Claire swayed at the thought of losing a finger. Penelope had to be devastated by its loss—a loss that was all Claire’s fault. If she had only done as she had been instructed . . .
Claire forced the thought away. There would be time enough for guilt later. Penelope was alive, and where there was life, there was hope.
Striding through the doorway, Claire crossed the room, then sat on the bed next to her young charge. The flickering candlelight revealed Penelope, asleep. Her face was calm, her body at ease.
Behind her, she sensed Jules had entered the room, but she did not turn to confirm the sensation. “Laudanum?” she asked David.
He nodded.
“Penelope,” she whispered. “Do you hear me? It’s Claire.”
There was not the slightest response on her face.
She had not really expected a reaction, but it made her feel better talking to the girl.
Her gaze travelled down Penelope’s arm to her hand, and the clean bandage that concealed her missing finger.
Claire reached out and put a hand on Penelope’s arm and stroked the length from her shoulder to her elbow. Merciful saints, her skin was cold.
Jules strode forward then stopped at the bedside across from her. “What are you doing?”
She lifted her gaze to his ice-blue eyes, met them with a boldness she did not feel. “I must wake her.”
“She is ill.” The words were sharp.
“She is the only one who can tell me where Anna and Eloise are. They are in every bit as much danger as Penelope herself.”
Jules’s hands opened and closed at his sides as his gaze shifted to the girl on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a family?”
A family. She had never really thought of the girls as such before, but he was right.
They were her family, her only family. And she would do anything for them.
Even lie. “I could not risk losing them. I have no idea who is threatening me, or why, and I had no resources to battle whoever threatened the girls. My only choice was to cooperate.”
“You could have trusted me.”
She shook her head sadly. “The risk was too great.” She returned her gaze to her charge. “They only cut off Penelope’s finger. But that they cut off the one she valued most means they do not want to murder the girls, they want to torture them, torture me.”
“There is more to this than that.” Jules’s gaze narrowed. “Why force you to marry me? How do I figure in to all of this? Unless—” He paused. His eyes darkened. “Unless this is some sort of plot against me. But who would want revenge against me?” His accusing gaze connected with hers.
“I have no knowledge of revenge or anything else. I simply did what I was told to do in order to keep the girls safe. And even that did not guarantee their safety.” Claire’s gaze returned to Penelope.
“Whomever it was harmed her.” His voice softened. “They did not kill her. It was a warning.”
“A warning we should heed.” Claire shook Penelope’s shoulder. “Penelope, if you can hear me, please open your eyes. I need to talk to you for Anna and Eloise’s sake.”
The young girl stirred. Her eyelids fluttered. “C-Claire?”
“Dearest, I am here.” Her voice broke with emotion.
Familiar blue eyes stared up at Claire. “The woman . . .”
“We need to know who she is, and where Anna and Eloise are hidden.”
“Don’t know her name,” Penelope whispered. “The girls are . . . in Edinburgh.”
Claire straightened. “Then that’s where I must go.”
“Not alone, you won’t,” Jules replied with an edge in his voice.
Penelope turned her head toward Jules. “Your husband . . .”
Despite the words, Jules’s face miraculously softened. “Shh. You must rest. We need you to help us find the others.” He looked almost boyish as he smiled down at Penelope. Claire’s heart constricted at the sight, and a twinge of envy moved through her. He might never smile at her like that again.
Claire forced the thought away. “We need to let her rest if we are to leave for Edinburgh at first light.”
His smile vanished, but he did not look at her. “We will leave when I say we will leave.” Jules’s voice was harsh.
Claire forced back the threat of tears. It was difficult to believe that only last night they had lain contently in each other’s arms. In one moment, everything in her life had changed. She had touched true happiness only to have it ripped away.
Well, she would not stand by and whimper or cry. Her change in circumstances might not be as bad as it seemed. Jules had not cast her out of his life, not entirely. He would go to Edinburgh with her and search for the girls, along with whomever had threatened them.
They both needed answers, answers that would either heal the divide between them or cast them apart forever.
Claire knew which alternative she preferred.
She had no idea about Jules.