Dominic's Nemesis (9 page)

He blinked. “
Forgive me, Dom. It
’s just
…never mind.” Shaking his head, he closed the
book on the subject. “I
’
ve been meaning to visit myself. How is the
patient?”

Exasperation clashed with raw desire whenever
he thought of her. “Back on her feet…and too much underfoot. Ethan
is delaying her leaving so you may assess her state of mind.
He
’
s mentioned her
situation, I
’m
sure.
”

“Yes. A string of recent tragedies left her
with no family.”

“Ethan and I agree. The dip in the pond
amounts to a suicide attempt.”

Cael nodded, resolute. “Survivor
’
s guilt. It drives some to take
their own lives. I have seen similar cases with patients who have
lost all to scarlet fever.”

“So, she is not altogether well?”

“I
’
ll not know that until I speak with her first hand,
but yes, there is a possibility that she still harbors unhealthy
thoughts.”

“Ethan thinks she will attempt to harm
herself again.” Urgency heightened Dominic
’
s
words.
“Earlier today, she threw herself off a ladder in my
library.”

“You saw her jump?”

“No. I broke the fall.”

“I
’
ve been in your library, Dom.” Amusement flittered
across Cael
’
s face for
the first time. “Leaping from the shelves is not sufficient enough
for suicide. A broken leg, perhaps.”

“Broken neck, more like.” He muttered.

“She probably just lost her balance. What was
she doing there anyway?”

“Sketching, she said.” Dominic admitted, with
some reluctance. “There was chalk and parchment scattered
about.”

His brother shrugged. “Sounds reasonable
enough.”

“
Kathleen
is a poor watchdog.
” Dominic, eaten with a sudden agitation,
stood from the chair, and paced about the office. “I cannot be
everywhere at once. Ethan has run off to handhold with
rheumatism-ed old biddies. I haven
’
t the fortitude to deal with her, Cael. You must
come immediately or send Stephan.”

“She must be quite a handful.” Amused in
earnest at Dominic
’
s harassment,
Cael grinned.
“I promise to drop in soon. I would have
before now, but this thing with Stephan…
and
I
’
ve been looking into those two
characters from that queer lecture we attended a couple of months
back.”

Dominic froze. Shocked into stillness. “Why
would you—”

“Greyson somehow got wind of the incident at
the University. He is resourceful and well-connected. He contacted
me, regarding Stephan.”

“Contacted you, how?”

“Wrangled an introduction from a mutual
acquaintance at a social I attended.”

Dom scoffed. “And you wonder why I abhor
cavorting in the ton.”

“He was quite polite actually.” Cael
reflected. “Knew his science and seemed to want to help.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I knew little about him save for
what I learned at the lecture and what he told me for himself.”

“But?” Dominic braced himself.

“I think cultivating a relationship with him
could benefit Stephan. There is no predicting how his newfound
capabilities are affecting his mind. And Greyson seems to have a
genuine interest in severing the link between adeptness and mental
instability.”

“Adeptness?”

“Greyson
’
s terminology.
Adepts
are people gifted with
psychic abilities, like yourself.
Adeptness
is the abilities
themselves. According to Greyson, control is the key to
side-stepping the psychological and emotional damage that wielding
such enormous amounts of psi energy inflicts on the mind.” Cael
hurried on in fascinated prattle. “I also discovered rumors that he
runs a very queer sort of household.”

“What of his background?” Dominic inquired,
suspicious but considering. He himself ran what could be construed
as a ‘queer sort of household’.

“I found nothing sordid or questionable.
He
’
s awash in
trade-wealth, with no living relatives. Savvy investments perhaps,
since no apparent family business exists, here or in The States.
He’s respected in the scientific arena and among the ton, with the
normal sprinkling of highball enemies and well-connected friends.
Several peers sponsor his research activities. And he is on the
board of social reform.”

“Tell me more about this household of
his.”

“I couldn
’
t find out much. Just that it
’
s a sort of haven for social
outcasts…according to the rumor mill, mind you. I haven
’
t the chance to—”

“I
’
ve heard enough.” Dominic silenced further
discussion. “As I suspected, Greyson is dangerous. He
isn
’
t to come within a
mile of Stephan.”

“Dom…”

“Stephan is intelligent, stable, and grounded
in reality…if a bit volatile. His sanity is
not
in question,
and I will not have him poked and prodded by some quack bent on
giving him a complex.”

“He accidentally
maimed
his closest
friend. He has a complex already—as do you, I might add. Is that
how yours came about, a
quack
like Greyson or myself?” Cael
again donned his analyzing mien. “You never share about your early
life, Dom. Why is that?”

He sidestepped the issue like a puddle in the
road. “I have lived with…adeptness—as he calls it—since adolescence
and I still possess my full facilities. Stephan will adapt as I
have.”

Cael grimaced. “I wouldn
’
t wish your method of adapting on
him.”

“
I am
sane.
” Dom countered flatly.

“And paranoid of encroaching madness.”

“A legitimate concern, considering our
origins.”

“No.” Cael stood and walked around the desk
so that they were eye to shaded eye. “Being concerned is not the
same as living the life of an exiled monk, nor is it healthy.”

“
Discretion,
not exile.” Dom argued.
“Protecting myself and my brothers from public ridicule and
accusations of heresy—”

“By the by, how is Gabriel?” Cael made no
attempt at tact or subtlety. “Did
adapting
serve him
well?”

Cael hit his mark. Dominic’s chest caved; the
words impacted him like an arrow to the heart.

For an instant, the image staring back at her
from the mirror was not her own, but that of a beguilingly
beautiful woman with obsidian eyes and a glossy mane of hair
framing the visage. Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile as if she
enjoyed a jest at Eden
’
s
expense. Eden sighed, another nameless specter to taunt her. The
lady in the mirror winkled away into her own frowning image.

Just as she was about to turn away from the
mirror, a fleck of something caught her notice. She shifted a
handful of blonde tresses and leaned in closer. Poking through the
strands, she picked out several dark aggregates marring her ashen
mane. How odd. Dismissing it, she quickly twisted her hair around
itself and secured the knot atop her crown.

Eden abandoned the vanity table. The same
too-loose dress from her earlier jaunt tangled about her legs as
she moved. The room gave her a creepy awareness of sorts.
She
’
d found it spotless
upon her return…bed made, vanity organized, fresh flowers hung in
the window ledge, chamber pot emptied. Yet, she hadn
’
t seen Nell or any other maid or
manservant since the previous evening, and evening had nearly
rolled around again. Apparently, Dominic
’
s dislike of underlings lurking and
spreading gossip extended to the entire house, not just his
quarters.

How can he stand it? The isolation. The
death-like silence. She felt trapped inside her own mind, with
naught but empty space and echoes ringing in her ears. It clawed at
her insides like hunger pains in her stomach. Her heart craved
contact, companionship, and love. A softly spoken word to a friend.
A hearty chuckle between siblings. A warm hug from a lover. Sound,
movement…Something. Anything… to ensure her grief hadn
’
t crushed her spirit and cut her
off from the world…and any hope of happiness.

On the edge of screaming just to hear a live
voice and fearful of another vexing vision assailing her, Eden quit
the room in haste and went searching for Kathleen. Armed with a
knap sack brimming with sketching materials, she found the pretty
redhead dosing before the fire in the second floor study with a
half-eaten plate of sweets tilting off her lap. Eden removed the
plate and set it aside, smiling at the cozy picture Kathleen made.
Hmph. The good doctor probably did not know it yet, but he would be
welcoming a little stranger before the end of the year. Sleepiness,
increased appetite, and she never saw Kathleen ahead of ten in the
morning. Having attended her cousin Millie, Eden recognized the
signs.

“
Kathleen?
” She nudged softly.

“Hmm…”

“Forgive me for waking you, but I was
wondering if you would care to take a walk with me?”

Kathleen stirred, rubbing sleepy eyes. “Wat
of dinner?”

Eden bit back a grin. “I thought we could
have a late supper. Otherwise, I
’
ll loose the light.”

“Oh.” The redhead un-tucked her feet, ambled
upwards, and straighten her skirts. “Aye, I suppose a wee stroll
might do us both some good. Let
’
s be off then.”

Impulsively, Eden nipped forward to hug her
as she
’
d done so many
times to her aunts whenever they caved to her requests. “Thank you,
so much. The country is so lovely and I
’
ve been cooped up much too long.”

“
Poor
lass.
” Kathleen gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Come along
and let
’
s put some roses
on those cheeks. And ya really must insist Dominic hire a true
lady’s maid. Forgive me for saying so, but such lovely hair is
shamed by dat wash-woman
’
s knot.”

Eden wondered that Kathleen thought her in
any position to ‘
insist’
Dominic do anything much less procure her an exclusive maid.
Perhaps she
’
d broach the
matter with the doctor…if he returned. It
would
be nice to
look the part of a marriage-minded maiden again.

* * *

On a well-marked path centuried on either
side by mammoth trees, Kathleen and Eden approached the ivy-hung
gazebo beckoning in the distance. The skies shone a happy blue,
while the wind kissed their skin with welcoming breath.

“Would you mind terribly posing for me when
we reach the gazebo?” Eden shot her companion a shy smile.

“
An
honor, t
’
would
be.”

They continued in a comfortable silence,
punctuated by lyrical birdsong and trilling dragonflies flitting
through the trees. At the gazebo, Eden positioned Kathleen in a
seated repose, with the dense green forest in the backdrop so that
the waning sunlight set her flaming red hair ablaze with
highlights. She arranged herself and her chalks and charcoals on
the opposite bench. Parchment poised on one raised knee, eyes
narrowed on her subject, Eden stroked across the page with
form-defining lines and contours. It felt good to be sketching
again.

When Kathleen reached to massage her neck,
and then snatched her hand away, Eden knew a moment of guilt.
“There
is
no need to sit
as still as a statue. Just so long as you hold the general
position.”

“Oh bless ya, I thought me back would snap
soon.”

“Kathleen.” One hand darted to and fro on the
paper, making a line here, a shadow there while the other held the
parchment steady. Eden
’
s
artist
’
s eye flitted
from her subject to the burgeoning portrait as she spoke. “Tell me
something about Dominic.”

“
If I
can, wee one.
”

“Why does he always wear the spectacles? Have
you ever seen him without them?”

“Oh dear me, no.” Kathleen chuckled as if the
thought were ludicrous. “Ethan tells me his eyes are light
sensitive. I donno believe him at first, but I canna think of
another reason ta hide them…so perhaps ‘
tis true.
”

“Has your husband seen them?”

“Certainly.”

“They are close, then.”

“Aye. So much so dat I think Dominic resented
me a wee bit when Ethan and I were wed. In time, he realized he had
naught ta fear of me betraying him or taking Ethan away.
He
’
s quite considerate
nowadays.”

Eden nodded, while adding a longer shadow to
the background foliage. “So he isn
’
t always this cloistered. He
’
s circling the wagons because of me.”

“Donno take it ta heart.” The conversation
eased into a reluctant seriousness. “Dominic is ‘no given ta
trusting anything unfamiliar ta him, particularly people. His early
life was… difficult…and it has shaped tha man dat he is.”

“How so?” Anxious for more answers but
mindful that she probably wouldn
’
t get them if she appeared too eager, Eden forced
herself to maintain blithe movements and mannerisms.

“I…” Kathleen hesitated. “I canna say
exactly. ‘Tis no’ me story ta tell. Be patient, lass. All things
reveal themselves in time.”

Disappointed and intrigued alike, Eden let
her shoulders sag. “What about the other brothers? Nell says they
are quite numerous.”