Phaedra knew that James had been to see Jonathan after the doctor had left, but he dissuaded Phaedra from doing so.
"Is there any chance that Jonathan will ever recover?"
"No, I fear not. Neither his eyesight nor his sanity. When I left him, he was lost in his own world, talking as though you were there by his side."
Phaedra's lips trembled, her eyes filling with tears.
“You must not weep for him or blame yourself for Burnell’s mad fixation upon you," James said brusquely. “He actually appeared strangely happy, lost in his delusion. Perhap more so than the rest of us, who must perforce remain in touch with reality. I sometimes feel that I would have been better off mad or dead than ever have lived to see-"
He broke off, his eyes fixing broodingly upon his sister once more. “Julianne was never a clever girl, but always gentle and loving. Her genius was in her hands, her ability to breathe life into porcelain. Not only has she lost that talent, but all sense of herself as well. His voice thickened with anguish. "Christ! She doesn't even know who I am."
Phaedra swallowed hard, wishing she could think of the words to comfort him. But James was already composing himself as Julianna rose from the spinet. The girl shrank back as Gilly led her across the room. She seemed to be forever clutching at his sleeve, but Gilly showed no signs of impatience. Phaedra had never seen her teasing cousin quite so gentle.
"Gilly says it is time that I went up to bed. I need my rest.” Despite her manner of childlike obedience, Julianna's eyes were clear. It was one of her better times. At least she knew who she was. She curtsied to Phaedra. "Good night, milady."
The girl prepared to skitter away when Gilly stopped her. He gave an almost imperceptible nod in James's direction. Only at Gilly's urging, did Julianna approach her grim-faced brother. Beneath James's stony facade, Phaedra could see the hurt brim in his eyes.
"Good night, sir," Julianna said in a breathless whisper and bolted out the gallery's door. Gilly offered James a rueful smile and prepared to follow her, James said,” "I need to talk to you, Fitzhurst." His gaze shifted to include Phaedra. "Both of you."
Although Gilly arched his brows questioningly, he shrugged and summoned Lucy. He sent the maid to look after Julianna, and then sprawled upon the chair next to Phaedra's. Phaedra was uncertain of what was coming next, but the rigid set of James's face warned her it was not going to be pleasant.
"Tomorrow I intend to take my sister away from here," he announced. "It is not fitting that either one of us should remain under Sawyer Weylin's roof."
Phaedra said nothing. She had been expecting this. It was Gilly who protested. Sitting bolt upright, he asked, "But where will you go? It is far too late in the year for you to think of embarking for Canada."
"I plan to take Julianna to Dr. Glencoe's. I fancy we would not be unwelcome there."
Gilly relaxed. "Ah, Hampstead? It is not so dreadfully far. I could still ride over and-"
"No, you couldn't," James said. "I must ask you to stay away from my sister."
Gilly turned pale, hurt and astonishment flashing in his green eyes.Phaedra leaped to her feet, glaring at James.
"How dare you speak as though Gilly means more than kindness by Julianna! Are you implying that my cousin would take advantage of her?"
"Nay, Phaedra, it is all right." Gilly rose and placed a restraining hand upon her arm. "You cannot be blaming the man. I understand, even if you don't. Very few would want a papist, an Irish one besides, to come calling upon his sister."
"Damn it. That has nothing to do with it." James's hard look wavered as he regarded Gilly with an expression of gratitude and almost brotherly affection. His lips twisted into a half smile as he said, "You are a damned fine man, Patrick Gilhooley Fitzhurst. Under other circumstances, I would have been happy to have you call upon Julianna. But as matters now stand, the idea of any man courting my sister is absurd."
"I don't quite follow your reasoning," Gilly said."She has recovered remarkably since we rescued her.”
"Open your eyes, man. She will never be what she once was."
"I don't know what she was. I only see what Julianna is now, a gentle lady whose spirits need time for mending."
"Gilly, for her sake as well as yours, do not be cherishing any false hope. Her mind can drift away at any moment. She would never be able to love you as a woman should."
"It is enough that I have fallen that hard in love with her, so I have,” Gilly said, his jaw jutting in a stubborn angle. “And whether you like it or not, the lass needs me.”
James flung up his hands in exasperation. He turned to Phaedra as though expecting her to reason with her cousin. But she could not bring herself to do so. She had been deprived of her own hopes. She would never attempt to shatter Gilly’s dreams.
Gilly abandoned his belligerent stance and assumed a more coaxing expression. "Don't be after looking so grim, James. I'm not saying I expect to wed Julianna tomorrow, next month or even next year. I only want to be her friend until she grows strong enough to accept more."
"You could be waiting the rest of your life," James said.
"I can be a very patient man."
James shook his head. “When I set sail for Canada next spring, I will be taking my sister with me.”
"Such a voyage won't be disturbing me at all. I don't suffer from seasickness."
“You won’t be coming-“ James began, but Gilly merely grinned and gave him a playful jab in the arm.
Phaedra hid her smile as Gilly sauntered out the door, whistling. James scowled after him and then a reluctant laugh escaped him.
"Your cousin is a far bigger fool than I," James complained to Phaedra.
"His folly is one of Gilly’s most endearing traits," Phaedra said softly.
With her cousin’s departure, the music gallery seemed too quiet. Her eyes met James's and a deep consciousness rushed between them. Suddenly, they were left alone, with all that they had shared, the pain of all that could never be.
They broke eye contact simultaneously. Phaedra shook out her skirts and said, "It is late. I should be retiring, too."
James nodded. He didn't even attempt to stay her. They might well have been strangers, not two people who had shared the greatest intimacy a man and woman could know. For a moment, Phaedra hesitated. She had never told James about the life they had created. But the loss of their child was still too raw a grief. Perhaps one day she might tell him, but right now, there seemed little point in adding to burden of sorrow he already carried.
She curtsied and prepared to leave when she felt his touch upon her shoulder so tentative, it seemed far too slight to bridge the gulf of misunderstanding between them.
He said hesitantly. You have not told me what your plans are, what you intend to do now."
She turned back to face him. "I shall stay with Grandfather until-until he no longer needs me."
James compressed his lips. "How fortunate for him. Perhaps I should abduct young girls and send innocent men to the gallows. I did not realize that was the way to inspire such devotion.”
Phaedra flinched at his sarcasm. "I know I should despise my grandfather as much as you do, considering all that he has done. But I cannot.”
She tried to explain to James some of Sawyer Weylin's background-the dire poverty and the tragic circumstances that had led to the death of his young wife.
"I think Grandfather simply grew too hard. He learned to substitute ambition for love, which is a great pity." Phaedra added sadly, "For I could have loved him if he had ever given me the chance. James, my grandfather is not as wicked as Carleton Grantham was. I don't expect you to ever forgive him, but for your own sake, please-“
James's flinty tones interrupted her. "I am planning no more acts of vengeance, if that is what you fear.
"No, I didn't mean-" She drew in a deep breath. "I am sorry that I ever accused you of being the one who used the Goodfellow papers against my grandfather. I was hurting too much to be reasonable. I felt yo
u had rejected all that I offered you, that you didn't understand exactly how much that was."
She continued in a small voice, "I never thought I would trust any man again after Ewan. To put my life entirely in your hands was not that easy."
"It was not easy for me, either," he interrupted,"to set aside the anger and bitterness that has occupied the whole of my waking moments these past seven years. God, Phaedra, I did try!"
"Perhaps neither of us tried hard enough," she said.
James took her by the hand. “Is it so impossible that we should try again?"
She gazed up at him, her breath stilling at the depth of love she found in his eyes, the yearning he could not suppress. Before she could answer him, the gallery door opened.
Lucy thrust her head inside, crying out in a frightened voice. "Lady Phaedra, you must come upstairs at once. Your grandfather needs you. He's surely about to die."
Phaedra had no need to disengage her hand from James's. He had already released her.
As Phaedra walked alone to Sawyer Weylin's bedside, the lamplight fell across a face withered past recognition. And yet Phaedra thought Lucy must be mistaken. Her grandfather appeared more alert than he had for many a day. He was even trying to speak.
"Grandfather." She caught his hand, the once-plump flesh seeming to sag over his bones. His skin felt so cold.”
"That you, girl?"
She had to lean closer to understand his ragged whisper. "Aye, Grandfather”
His dull gaze roved past her. "Who's that with you?"
His question made no sense to her until she realized that James had slipped in silently behind her. Even now Phaedra felt an impulse to form a protective shield between him and the old man. She wanted to beg James to go, not to lower himself by triumphing now. But although James's gaze was fixed upon Weylin, his blue eyes devoid of pity, she saw no hate burning there, either.
"Good evening, Monsieur Weylin," he said, using the French accent Phaedra had not heard for many a day. "It is I, Armande."
Her grandfather pursed his lips forming the word "marquis" and then smiled,
Phaedra could not let this farce continue, not at her grandfather's deathbed. "James, please go," she whispered.
But he didn't move, never taking his eyes from her grandfather.
A struggle seemed to wage within James, then he said, "There is something I need to ask you, monsieur."
No, not now, Phaedra begged silently. It was far too late to be demanding any more explanations. But James's next words were so unexpected, she nearly sagged against the bed.
"I want permission to marry your granddaughter."
Phaedra could not believe what she was hearing. She doubted her grandfather comprehended, either. The old man's breathing became more labored.
"I want to make her my wife," James said. "The Marquise de Varnais.”
For a second, her grandfather's eyes flew open wide, a trace of his old gleam appearing. He tried to repeat the title but he could not manage the sounds. With the words still on his lips, his eyes closed.
The silence that followed seemed to stretch out forever. Phaedra knew the exact moment when her grandfather drifted into his final sleep. A heavy sigh escaped him and then all was still. His coarse features had never known such restfulness in life.
Phaedra realized she was clutching James's hand. Their eyes met. "Thank you," she said, "for letting him believe-"
"I didn't do it for him," James said hoarsely. "I did it for you."
She was well aware of that, but it was enough. With a muffled sob, Phaedra flung herself into his arms.
They were married on a cold day in February, the simple ceremony witnessed only by Julianna and Gilly. The service was performed by a fresh-faced young curate who had never heard of James Lethington.
As they left the church, Gilly teasing remarked to Phaedra, "The fellow had not the least notion he was marrying you to a dead man."
The four of them gathered in the Green Salon afterward. Gilly leaped up on a stool and proposed a toast. "To James and Phaedra: A long, happy married life, and a cottage full of children."
His boisterous good wishes were echoed softly by Julianna. Gilly crowded forward to kiss the bride. As he planted a rough buss upon her cheek, Phaedra was pleased to see Julianna daring to embrace her brother.
When his sister timidly presented James with a wedding gift, Phaedra noted an expression of barely veiled triumph upon Gilly's face.
James slowly undid the wrappings. His hands trembled as he unveiled a bird molded of clay. The execution was crude, and yet there was promise of something more, some life stirring in those outstretched wings. Phaedra saw James swallow hard. He murmured his thanks and pressed a tender kiss upon Julianna's brow.
"Come, Julie," Gilly said, linking an arm about her waist. "As the French would say, I'm thinking we are quite de trop." But before Gilly could leave, James clasped his hand in a hard grasp. From the look the two men exchanged, Phaedra could tell an understanding had been reached.
When they were alone, Phaedra glided over to her husband's side. He was yet examining the bird. He smiled as he glanced up at Phaedra and indicated the sculpture’s outstretched wings. "It looks as though he is straining to be free. He rather reminds me of you."
Phaedra shook her head, taking the bird and setting it down. All the freedom that she wanted stood only a heartbeat away. James caught her hand and touched the simple gold band encircling her finger.
"Are you disappointed," he asked softly, "to be the plain Mrs. Lethington, and no longer 'milady'?"
There was only one response to such a foolish question.
Phaedra flung her arms about his neck and pressed her mouth to his. James returned the kiss, with all the fire and passion of his nature.
With a blissful sigh, Phaedra nestled her head against his shoulder. James held her thus for a long time, both of them watching the snow fall past the Green Salon's long French windows, the heavy white flakes enveloping the world in a hushed softness.
"How strange,” " Phaedra murmured, "but I have always hated winter. It chilled me to the bone. I never realized how beautiful it could be."
"The winters are far harsher in Canada," James said. He added hesitantly, "I have made the arrangements for us to embark next spring, but if you truly did not wish-"
But Phaedra pressed her hand to his lips, hushing him. "I would follow you to the end of the world." She smiled. "Even if I freeze to death."
"Nay love." James said as he swept her up into his arms to carry her to their bridal bed. "I promise you, that you will never feel cold again."
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Susan Carroll, Masquerade
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