Druid's Daughter (21 page)

What a shame he wasn’t Lance.

* * * * *

Try as she might, Morgan couldn’t summon up anything but
pleased amusement at her impulsive actions of the night before. She knew she’d
put on a display that would doubtless revolt the Duke and Duchess when they had
time to think about it. But they would never have accepted her as Lance’s wife
in any case. She knew in the deepest part of her soul she wanted marriage to
him and only him. But that was now completely hopeless. As it had always been.

Perhaps she should quit seeing the nice Colonel. His amazing
acceptance of her actions alerted her to the possibility his affections might
be engaged. He’d stood there with an amused smile on his face and never
mentioned the incident after the one question at Covent Garden. He was interesting
to talk to and a dear man, but she did not want him.

She was still at breakfast when the knock sounded and she
heard a deep voice. She paled as Jackson ushered Lance into the morning room.

“Jackson, will you please bring more coffee and scones?
Would you have a seat, Lord Laniston? From my limited experience I find men can
always enjoy a second breakfast.”

She smiled sweetly at him, a little alarmed at his serious
expression.

“I did not have a first breakfast, so thank you, Morgan. I
would like something light.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down.

“If you are about to chide me for my actions last night it’s
not necessary. I can’t say I’m sorry, but it was rather childish of me.”

“I’ve not come to chide you, Morgan. You responded rather
magnificently to undue provocation. I’ve come to do some explaining of my own.
I must find peace. I can’t work properly, I’m not eating or sleeping well, I’m
not even a good Chief Inspector.”

Morgan knew her astonishment was evident. Lord Laniston
Dellafield, talking to her in such a manner! She felt as if somebody had put
her head in a paper bag and shaken it ’til the contents were muddled and
floating around.

“I find this hard to believe, Lord Laniston.”

He looked at her in semi-despair. “Please call me Lance
again. I don’t think I’ll get through this if you don’t at least pretend to be
my friend.”

She took one of his large hands in her two small ones.

“I’ll always be your friend, Lance.”

His half-smile came and faded quickly.

“I want to confess to you why I disappeared with scarcely a
word after your caring for me so sweetly when I was injured. I’m not at all
proud of myself.”

She withdrew her hand and raised her head in her newly won
pride. She’d found she was a good Druid, a good witch and a good healer. She
did not need to hear his confession to be sure of herself.

He smiled at her uplifted nose. “Please, Morgan, hear me
out. I feel I must tell you to gain my own peace. Why it’s so essential I don’t
know, but it is. Then I’ll leave you alone. You’ll want nothing to do with me
afterwards, anyway.”

This astonished her so she looked at him closely. Yes, he’d
actually said what she’d heard. She couldn’t imagine anything he could say
would turn her against him. She motioned for him to proceed.

“Have you ever heard me say the name ‘Justin’?” he asked.
His eyes were cast down when he started talking, but now he raised them. His
blue, blue eyes were clouded with misery.

She saw no point in prevarication. “When you were injured
and feverish you mentioned him.”

“I thought I had,” he said grimly. “I also fear I took
ungentlemanly advantage of you the night you cared for me. I don’t remember
exactly, but the pleasure of my dreams haunts me. But let me have my say.
Justin Ashcraft was with me at Eton. He was two years younger and of much slighter
build. I did not know him until several months after he’d arrived at school.”

He stopped and put his head briefly in his hands. “This is
horror story, incidentally, so be prepared.”

When he looked up again Morgan felt as if she were looking
into his very soul. His cobalt eyes were clouded with misery and his hair was
thoroughly disarranged, even to the white streaks at his temples. He was making
no attempt to hide his feelings, painful as they obviously were to him.

Morgan put both her hands on his to try to stop him, but he
shook his head, although he grabbed her hands with a painful grip.

“Justin was assigned to fag for one of the biggest bullies
in the school. This scoundrel had two bosom friends, as mean and degenerate as
he. I did not know how Justin was being treated until I found him one day
huddled in a corner of the hall of my dormitory trying to get up courage to
speak to me. He’d heard I was fair-minded.”

His pain roughened his lowered voice. He was silent for a
long moment.

“The trio were mistreating him miserably. Almost nightly
beatings, forcing him to eat garbage, all sorts of cruel abominations I won’t
distress you by listing. Justin told me he’d tried and tried to be a good
sport, but everything got too much for him. He was going to run away and hope
his parents forgave him. He wanted someone to know the truth in case he didn’t
make his way home. He swore he’d commit suicide if he were forced to put up
with any more. I believed him.”

Lance took a long drink of his coffee and Morgan poured him
more. He’d not touched his scones.

“I promised to protect him. I called on each of the trio and
did my best to put some fear into their wicked souls. I thought I had, Morgan,
I truly did. One day when I was playing a cricket match they took revenge on
Justin.”

His voice hardened, as did his expression. He was no longer
looking at Morgan, but watching his hands.

“They lay him face down over a windowsill and two of the
bullies thrust the window pane down on the middle of his back to hold him
still. Then they beat him bloody. When they let him up he threw open the window
and jumped out.”

Lance again buried his face in his hands. “I’ve never told
anyone this, Morgan, not even my parents. They know Justin is a cripple, but
not why. This is very hard to tell even to you.”

Morgan patted his knee, but couldn’t say a word.

He waited a few minutes and then continued. “They were on
the second story. Justin broke both legs and dislocated his spine, among other
lesser injuries. One leg never healed properly.”

The silence time stretched on ’til Morgan found her voice.

“What’s happened to him, Lance?”

His attempt to speak calmly twisted her heart. “He manages
my country estate. He’ll never walk properly and he has a good deal of pain,
but he’s an excellent manager. My wonderful parents gifted each of my brothers
and me at birth with our own estate. Mine is in Kent, actually not too far from
your mother’s, although I’ve spent little time there.”

His face twisted. “I can hardly face Justin, even now.”

They were both silent for quite a while. Morgan was content
to wait. She knew he needed time to regain his usual detached equilibrium and
she needed to digest all this. To her these gruesome facts explained a great
deal. No wonder Lord Laniston Dellafield cast his lot into punishing the cruel
and the wicked. No wonder he was such an excellent policeman and leader of men.

She wanted desperately to comfort him, but didn’t know where
to start. Even more surprising than the story was his admission he’d not told
his parents all of the horrifying details. She thought his parents could not be
more tolerant. Lance’s shame must run very deep and had haunted him far too
long. But why was he telling her all this and at this time?

Lance sat staring straight ahead and Morgan was sure he saw
nothing in front of him. Still she was silent, desperate to say the right words
and afraid of the wrong ones. The recitation must have brought back every
horrifying feeling as his face was etched with pain and regret.

“Thank you for listening, Morgan. I don’t blame you for
being revolted. I’ll let myself out.”

He took a very shaky breath, raising his eyes to her and
then dropping them as she still said not a word.

As he got slowly to his feet, the suffering on his ravaged
face broke her silence. She ran to him, turning him toward her and grabbing his
hands, willing him to stay with her until she could help him.

“Lance, I wish I could ease your pain as I do some of my
patients. I truly think you have no blame. You couldn’t watch over Justin every
minute of the night and day. Those horribly wicked boys would have found him
sometime, someplace. Wicked people are intent on finding their victims, as you
and I well know.”

He looked up at her with a flash of hope in his distressed
eyes, which soon died out. “No, Morgan. I gave my word and did not keep it. No
matter the circumstances, I let Justin down and he paid the price I should have
paid.”

“Lance, you’re wrong. Terribly wrong. I think you’re not
only wrong but overly hard on yourself. Lance, sometimes circumstances break
our word for us.”

“That’s my Morgan,” he said, his twisted grin breaking her
heart.

“Lance, I’m honored you told me this, but why did you? I
haven’t heard from you for some time and I’m puzzled. Do you mind my asking
you?”

He stood stiffly in place. “No, I don’t mind anything from
you. It’s simple. Your honesty last night when you faced down Belinda put me to
shame. You held your head high, used your unusual powers and then frankly
admitted them. In a public place. No matter you were facing my parents, a Duke
and a Duchess, as well as me. I, on the other hand, have been too cowardly to
be honest with you or anyone.”

She refused to let go of his hands and he finally looked
directly at her. The suffering in his eyes held her speechless again. Why could
she not think of the right words to ease his pain?

“I’ve withdrawn and neglected you with no explanation,
Morgan. That is the height of cowardice. I feel you deserve to know why I cut
off our relationship. You were getting too close to me. I didn’t want you to
know my secrets. Surely you now see I’m not honorable and not worthy of you.”

He started toward the door again and then turned around.

“I suppose I must marry someday, but I’ll put it off as long
as I can. Your image is always with me now. Every minute of every day. After a
while I’ll probably marry another Belinda.”

His voice was low and bitter. Then he looked straight at her
with his beautiful cobalt eyes and shattered her senses.

“I want you to know I love you, even though I hope to never
see you again.”

He strode out the door.

“Lance, wait.” Morgan ran after him but he did not turn
around again. She knew she couldn’t catch him and she went slowly back into the
house.

What should she do now, in the face of those last bitter
words? How strange to know he thought her witching ways were honest and brave.
But how to handle such a reluctant and wonderful declaration of love?

Dear Goddess, she needed all the guidance she could call on
to persuade Lance his guilt was as excessive as she’d once thought his pride.

Chapter Fourteen

Morgan felt as if the Earth had turned over under her feet
and was still shaking. She’d never been as bewildered and astonished as when
Lance bared his heart to her. She spent the night trying to determine what to
do, but came up without an answer. Although her heart was singing with the joy
of his now-acknowledged love, she knew he never intended to see her again. He
wouldn’t want to see the one person who knew the secret he thought so shameful.

All through an early breakfast, she debated with herself.
What on earth was he thinking? That he was not worthy of her? She’d never heard
anything any more ridiculous. Yet he’d seemed so convinced and so unwavering in
his resolve to cut her out of his life.

She needed time to think this through. One thing she knew
for sure. She would not let Lord Lance Dellafield get away with such a
ridiculous assertion as saying he was unworthy of her. How could he be
convinced she would hate him now that she knew his deepest secret? That he
couldn’t face her again after that heart-rending recital of what had so marked
him at Eton? Lance, her strong, straight-thinking Lance, was far askew in his
thinking on this one matter. Of course his honor was important, but he could
not lose that vital element by an incident over which he had no control.

She knew she’d force him to see her as soon as she could,
but she was far from ready for a confrontation. She must be completely prepared
when she saw him again.

Could he really love her? He must, to come and speak from
his heart in such a despairing way. Was he prepared then to go through the rest
of his life, shoving his emotions to the bottom of his true self? Evidently he
felt that less painful than living with love in a mutually trusting
relationship.

He was wrong. She would not permit it. No, one essential
point held the key. He honestly didn’t think himself worthy of her. He did not
have qualms about their difference in social station, but as he saw it, she was
proud of the person she’d become and he was not. He honestly felt inferior. A
truly astonishing reversal of what she’d believed to be his feelings.

She would have to contrive to see him alone and attempt to
straighten out this whole blasted mess. Who ever heard of a man avowing he’d
loved a woman and throwing it off as a kind of unimportant aside? Especially if
he wanted to sever their relationship because of a long ago incident outside
his power.

The more she thought about it, the more indignant her
feelings glowed. Lance Dellafield was not going to have his way this time!

She put on her riding outfit, collected Lily from the stable
and set out for Hyde Park. One couldn’t really do serious galloping there, but
hopefully the lanes would be free enough so she could canter.

The Park was not teeming as usual, but still more crowded
than she preferred. She needed an exhilarating ride, but could only manage one
that was halfway satisfying. She turned back, intending to go home. At the last
minute, just as she was about to leave the track, a small boy chased a ball
directly in front of her.