For Elise (32 page)

Miles didn’t have to ask who. He held her hand more tightly. “He’s dead.”

“Dead? But . . . how? What happened?”

He knew better than to lie to her. She would eventually learn the truth and would have yet another reason to not trust him. “He was stabbed.”

Her eyes grew wide. “
I
stabbed him. But . . . but with a penknife. How could that . . . How could that have killed him?”

“It seems the blade severed a significant artery. He bled to death.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I only wanted to get away; I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“You were saving your life, dear. No one can fault you for that.”

“But I killed someone.” She trembled. Absolutely no color remained in her face.

This was not going to be an easy thing for her to accept. Miles sat beside her on the bed and gently wrapped his arm around her, careful of her bandaged shoulder. They’d sat precisely that way dozens of times as children. It was comfortingly familiar, for her as well, he hoped.

“I was terrified we wouldn’t find you in time.” He hadn’t truly allowed himself to think about what would have happened if he’d been but a few moments later than he had been. He rested his forehead against her temple, breathing in the familiar scent of her.
Ten feet.
They’d been ten feet from where her pursuer had fallen.

“He meant to kill me and leave me there.”

She leaned more fully into Miles’s embrace.

Was he comforting her at all? Relieving at least some of her burden?

“It was utter foolishness to send you and Anne out without proper protection.” How could he have neglected that so much? “You ought to have had more outriders and armed guards. Better still, we ought never to have agreed to your leaving Tafford before we knew the villain’s identity.”

“Who was he, Miles?” There seemed to be a bit more steadiness in her voice. Miles thought her trembling had eased a bit.

“That can wait,” he said. “You have suffered enough of a shock already. It can wait until morning.”

“Please,” Elise said, her voice breaking.

Miles sighed, stroking her hair as he debated with himself. She would eventually have to be told. The murderer’s identity would, in time, become common knowledge. But was she ready?

“You are certain you want to hear this now?” he asked Elise one more time.

“Yes.” She leaned more heavily against him. “I need to know. After so many years and so much pain, I need to know.”

Miles took a breath, wishing he didn’t have to tell her this, wishing they’d never met the man who’d ruined so many lives. “It was Mr. Cane.”

“But it is well past
noon, Beth.” Miles’s voice carried in from the corridor. “At least let me check on her.”

“You have. At least a dozen times. The poor thing is sleeping late. You would be also if you’d had a bullet dug out of your back yesterday.”

Mrs. Ash’s gaze met Elise’s as the conversation continued just beyond the slightly opened door. Anne sat on the bed next to Elise, attempting to form a cat’s cradle with a length of string. They’d been playing at string games for the entire thirty minutes since Mrs. Ash had brought Anne in to see her.

“Should we tell your visitors that we can hear them?” Mrs. Ash whispered.

“Eavesdropping is so much more fun,” Elise said.

Mrs. Ash smiled broadly and returned to her knitting. Elise helped Anne adjust the string’s position on her fingers.

“I am certain she is simply resting,” Beth said, still out of sight in the corridor.

“I am not entirely certain,” Miles answered his sister. “She was outside,
barefooted
, not at all dressed for cooler nighttime temperatures and was shot, for heaven’s sake. Suppose she has taken ill or needs something and can’t get it? I simply want to check on her.”

“She was perfectly sound the last I peeked in the room not an hour past. She was sleeping, as she ought to be,” Beth said. “Honestly, Langley, Miles was not this overwrought the time Elise had measles when she was not more than five years old, and I thought he was bad off then, hounding us all with his constant fretting. ‘What if Elise needs me? What if she’s asking for me?’ He pestered us for days on end.”

“I will have you know, she was quite ill,” Miles answered.

“
Everyone
is quite ill when struck with the measles. My point is you don’t need to worry so much.”

“I daresay he can’t help himself, dear,” Mr. Langley said with something like a chuckle. “He’s been fretting over her all his life. We cannot expect him to stop now.”

Elise couldn’t remember ever hearing Mr. Langley tease. She liked him all the better knowing that he could.

“Ma,” Anne said.

Elise had been neglecting their game. She very deliberately moved one string, then another, slowly creating a Jacob’s ladder, something that was decidedly trickier with one arm in a sling. Anne was fascinated, making the pain of sitting up and moving her arm well worth enduring.

Miles stepped inside in the next instant. “How are you this morning? Are you at all ill? Or unwell?”

Elise shook her head. “If anything, I’m a little hungry.”

He sat on the bed beside her. “And it’s no wonder. You’ve missed breakfast. It is very nearly luncheon.” Miles watched her with such concern Elise felt almost as though she ought to be worrying over
him
rather than the other way around. The man was a mess.

“I am not so ravenous that I cannot wait until the midday meal,” Elise reassured him.

“But you are well?”

“Yes.” She felt herself smile, something she’d been unsure only the night before that she would ever do again. “At least, I will be.”

“Oh, Elise.” Miles sighed. “What a night you had.”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Let us not talk about that. Please. I’m not ready yet.”

Miles took the hand she had laid against his mouth in both of his hands and held it reverently as he kissed her fingertips.

“Ma.” Anne’s voice pulled their gaze toward her. She held up her string-laden hands with a look of impatient expectation.

“Do you remember this game?” Elise motioned toward Anne’s string-wrapped fingers.

“I do. You foisted it on me all the time.” Miles helped Anne adjust her strings until the shape was correct again.

“Foisted it on you? You can’t possibly deny that cat’s cradle was your favorite.”

“
You
were my favorite, though you were forever landing us both in one scrape after another.”

Her heart ached anew. “Last night was quite a scrape, wasn’t it?”

“You are safe now, and the three of us are together again. I, for one, plan to think on nothing but that. If I let myself think for even a moment about all that happened, I’ll likely pull the two of you into my arms and never let go again.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you’re rather fond of me.” The bit of humor was forced but so very needed.

She took a shaky breath. The past hour had been emotionally treacherous. A few moments would pass in which she felt calm, then a wave of dread would follow. “I still can’t believe Mr. Cane was the one who murdered our fathers and who—” She couldn’t bring herself to speak of what he’d done to her. Not yet. “He came to the house. He acted so friendly and kind. We were all in so much danger and didn’t know it. He might have murdered us all.”

“I’m not at all sure why he didn’t kill Hanson,” Miles said. “Cane had to have known Hanson was investigating the murders.”

“Mr. Hanson was in London most of the past weeks. Mr. Cane was in Derbyshire, keeping an eye on . . . on me.” A chill shuddered through her.

Miles leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then her cheek. “I am so sorry, Elise,” he whispered, his cheek gently brushing hers. “I am more sorry than I can even say.”

She set her hand against his other cheek, closing her eyes and letting her fear and heartache slip from her thoughts once more. Her Miles. Her kind, dear Miles. She could face anything with him at her side. In time she might learn to reconcile the Mr. Cane she’d thought she knew with the monster he’d proven to be.

“Miles,” Beth said from somewhere nearby.

He didn’t pull away but raised his head just enough to look at his sister. “Do not chastise me for this, Beth.” He barely maintained a civil tone. “At the moment, I couldn’t possibly care less what Society deems a proper distance.”

“I believe Beth only meant to tell you that Anne is making a valiant attempt to gain your attention once more,” Mr. Langley said.

Anne was indeed waving her string-wrapped hands about, watching Elise and Miles expectantly.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Miles asked. He kept his arms around Elise, and she leaned into his embrace.

Anne pulled her hands abruptly apart, the strings sliding from her fingers and tying into a monstrous knot. Something about it set Anne to giggling. She laughed so long and so hard she toppled over onto her side, continuing to laugh as she lay on the blanket.

Miles’s chuckle shook his frame, and Elise’s with him. He slipped away from her and reached out for Anne, lifting her off the bed. She giggled all the more. Miles spun her about in the air. She squealed with delight.

Despite all she’d passed through, despite the lingering agony in body and mind, Elise felt a growing sense of contentment. Life had dealt her a great many difficult blows, but she was no longer alone.

She flipped back the blanket covering her legs and carefully lowered her feet to the cold floor. She’d spent enough time in bed. The sofa was beckoning.

No sooner had she sat down than Mr. Langley spoke up. “Beth, dear, I have a very pressing desire to walk around the inn yard.”

“Why on earth—?”

“Take a walk with me, dear,” Mr. Langley insisted.

Beth still looked confused, but she slipped her arm through her husband’s.

“Anne should get some fresh air,” Mrs. Ash said, setting her knitting aside. She took Anne from Miles’s arms. “I’ll leave the door a bit ajar,” she told Miles.

In a mere moment, only Elise and Miles remained. He sat beside her, threading his fingers through hers. He appeared deeply bothered by something. “Are you really going to Lancashire?”

Through her surprise, Elise managed to nod.

“You cannot, Elise. Lancashire is too far away.”

“But I have a home there now.”

He reached out and touched her face so softly she almost couldn’t feel his touch. “And what of Tafford? Were you not happy there?”

She closed her eyes as he continued his caress. She forced herself to breathe, tried to assemble her quickly scattering thoughts.

“Please don’t leave me, Elise,” Miles whispered. “I couldn’t bear to be separated from you again. You are my dearest and oldest friend. But—”

“Miles, please.” Disappointment sliced through her at the sound of his calling her only his friend.

“Could you ever come to care for me, not as childhood playmates but as something more?”

Something more.
She looked directly into his beloved brown eyes, hardly daring to believe the implication she sensed in his question.

“I love you.” He breathed out the words as if it were almost a relief to utter them. “Not as I did when we were children. Or while we were growing up.” He cupped her face with his hands. “How could I ever love anyone but you?” he whispered. “If only you felt the same way.”

“If only I felt the same way?” Shock nearly robbed her of breath. “Oh, Miles. I’ve been worrying over exactly the same thing.”

“You have?” He looked utterly surprised.

“I was convinced you couldn’t possibly come to see me as anything other than little Elise Furlong who pushed you from a tree and put a rotting fish in your bed and stole all your clothes while you were swimming in the river behind Epsworth.”

“
You
were the one who did that?”

“I am certain you deserved it.” Her elation was quickly turning to an all-encompassing grin.

“My dearest Elise.” Miles kissed her lightly. Then again. Her heart swelled nearly to bursting. His kiss was every bit as intoxicating as she remembered. Her heart pounded, and her thoughts seemed to simply float away. The feel of his arms wrapped securely and lovingly around her filled every sense.

“Stay with me, Elise,” Miles said, still so close she could feel his breath on her lips. “Come back to Tafford.”

Elise leaned her head against him, listening to the thrumming of his heart. In his arms, she felt safe.

“We will make Beth and Langley return and stay a few more weeks. Langley can stand up with me and Beth with you.”

“Is that your way of suggesting we get married?”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

“Don’t you think you’d best ask me first?”

She felt Miles kiss the top of her head, felt his arms wrap more tightly around her. “Will you marry me, my dearest friend? Stay with me always. I cannot live without you.”

Elise sighed.

“And is there an answer?”

She pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes. Elise touched his cheek ever so lightly. “How could I ever love anyone but you?” she whispered.