“Yes.” He heard the snip of scissors, felt the tug as she tied off her handwork. She began wrapping a bandage around his head. “How do you know for certain that it was me at Hyde Park?”
“Something about you was different. I thought it was a reflection of the sunlight.” He felt like a romantic fool telling her. He should have simply kept his thoughts to himself.
“The only time both of us didn’t go out was when you began taking me around London. Eleanor was afraid you might catch us and the jig would be up.”
Unlikely that he’d have noticed her, he hated to admit to himself. All of his attention, all of his focus, had been on the lovely lady in his company.
“There, all done,” she said with a featherlike touch to his head. “You should probably try to sleep until the headache goes away.”
Because his head was pounding unmercifully and he was feeling disoriented, he brought himself to his feet, walked over to the bed and leaned against the post at its foot. “She killed Rockberry.”
Emma gave one quick nod, averting her eyes as she did so.
“You stayed with me that night deliberately to provide her with an alibi. You knew what she was about.”
She stared at the floor as though she hoped it might open up and provide her with the means for an escape. “Yes,” she whispered before lifting her gaze to his and saying more forcefully, “and no. Eleanor had gone downstairs to greet the duchess when she came to issue her invitation. I was abed with a headache. When Eleanor realized I had the opportunity to attend a ball, she decided it was the perfect night to finish what we’d begun. She assumed sooner or later Rockberry would return home, and when he did…she would see to him. My part was to stay with you until dawn. But I wanted to be with you. I came-” She licked her lips. “-to care for you.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe that part, since you ran away.”
“I didn’t see that I had a choice. You’re very clever. Sooner or later I might have said something to give us away.”
“You thought I would simply let everything go if you left?”
“I hoped…you would. I wasn’t as confident as Eleanor that you would simply shrug off my leaving.”
“Why me?”
With a sigh, she moved nearer to the window and looked out.
He could hear the wind picking up. A storm was indeed brewing, but it could never compete with the one stirring inside him. “Why me?” he repeated more harshly.
“Eleanor and I kept a constant watch on Rockberry, always taking care that he only saw one of us at a time. We nearly expired on the spot when he went to Scotland Yard. Shortly thereafter, we became aware of you following us, and we assumed you were the result of his visit with the police. Eleanor thought we could take advantage of the situation.”
“And take advantage of me.” He couldn’t contain the seething anger that escaped.
She spun around. “You don’t know what he did to our sister. We were determined to avenge her. You can’t possibly imagine what it is to lose someone unjustly.”
Oh, he could. He thought of his father.
“That day in Hyde Park, when I first approached you, why had you decided it would be you who sought to…entice me into your web?”
He heard her swallow. “That was simply coincidence. Had you arrived twenty minutes later, it would have been Eleanor whom you followed. But after you made my acquaintance, we took care to make certain that it was always me who was with you. You and I talked about so much…Eleanor was afraid she might inadvertently say something to cause you to question who you were with.”
They had talked, about so many things. The ease with which he spoke to her had surprised him. He’d never been verbose around the ladies. He communicated in other ways. But everything with her had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced with anyone else. That she could betray him so easily-
“I’ve brought you some of my father’s whiskey,” Eleanor announced as she glided into the room. Her dress was a pale blue adorned in darker blue. It didn’t seem to suit her, but he supposed he was viewing her through a kaleidoscope of murder. Strange how he saw her as the more cunning of the two sisters, how she stirred nothing within him except disgust.
If his head weren’t threatening to explode, if he were better able to think, he might not have taken the glass, but as it was, he thought whiskey could dull the pain, sharpen his thinking. He downed it, relishing the bite and the warmth that burst through his chest.
“Shall I bring you some more?” Eleanor asked.
“No, that’ll do for now.”
Eleanor watched him with obvious avid curiosity. He wondered how much Emma had shared with her. He remembered that when he first began to follow her, he’d thought her nothing special. Even the first night at Cremorne, he’d come to her defense because it was in his nature to protect the innocent. But the following afternoon, everything changed, something had been different about her. He hadn’t been able to determine exactly what it was. He’d only known that when her fingers touched his when he handed her the map, he wanted her to touch all of him.
From a great distance he heard himself say, “Explain the circumstances that led to Elisabeth’s death.”
“To discuss our sister’s poor choices with you seems a sort of betrayal,” Eleanor said.
“I might be able to help you if I understand everything.” His words sounded slurred and he suddenly staggered.
“Lie down, Mr. Swindler,” Eleanor said, taking his arm and guiding him to the bed.
“Eleanor, what did you do?” Emma asked as she rushed over.
“Given him something to make him sleep while we decide how best to handle this.”
As though his mind had left his body, he was aware of them arranging him on the bed. His eyelids grew heavy. He couldn’t keep them open. He wanted to explain that nothing would deter him from his purpose save death, but his mouth seemed unwilling to accommodate his need to speak.
Giving in to the comforting lure of sleep, he closed his eyes. A blanket was brought over his body, and the sweet fragrance of roses surrounded him. He wanted to pull Emma in but his arms didn’t respond to his commands. All he did was drift back into the blackness.
“How could you do that to him?” Emma snapped.
“How could I not? We have to think very carefully about what we wish him to know.”
“We should tell him everything.”
“Absolutely not. He’ll use it against us.”
“Eleanor, it’s too late to deny what we did. If we explain to him the why of it, he might be able to help us.”
“And what if we have to explain the why of it at our trial? I’d rather hang than disgrace Elisabeth before all of London.” Eleanor strode from the room.
Emma bent down and pressed a kiss to James’s forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
Then, because he was asleep and Eleanor wasn’t about, she touched his hair where it poked up over the bandage. It had been windblown when he arrived, giving him an almost barbaric appearance. She trailed her fingers around his face, relaxed now, but the cragginess that she so loved gave a hardness to his familiar features. When he’d leaped from his horse, his fury matched the worst storm to ever sweep over the land. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected of him. That he’d taken her in his arms had both terrified and thrilled her.
Resting her hand against his throat, she felt the thready pulsing of his blood. She wanted to smack Eleanor for giving him a draught. Hadn’t they done enough to him?
Charm him, seduce him, distract him, Eleanor had urged. Emma found the task to be heaven and hell. She’d enjoyed every moment in his company, even as each one was tainted with guilt.
She’d known every time he began to ask her questions that he was striving to determine her purpose. How often she’d wanted to confess all, to seek his opinion, to share her doubts. Eleanor had been convinced that a lord of the realm would go unpunished in spite of his abhorrent behavior. They’d had to take matters into their own hands, had to make him pay for what he’d done to Elisabeth-and perhaps others.