Page 104 of The Rebellious Lady and the Phantom Lord
But James was given no chance to make sense of her words before Jonathan’s mournful tones broke in. “You shouldn’t have done that, Phaedra. You have made it all so much more difficult.”
Without releasing her, James turned and she felt him tense. Phaedra looked around in time to see Jonathan unsheathe a sword, the tip as lethal as the fanatical light in Jonathan’s eyes.
With incredible calm, James eased Phaedra away from him. He reasoned gently, “You’d best put that down, Mr. Burnell.”
Jonathan advanced, his eyes blazing. Phaedra knew he would try to run James through where he stood. She flung her body protectively in front of James.
James hurled her aside, growling in her ear, “Run!”
A split-second later, Jonathan thrust at him, but James was too quick. He sidestepped the blow, recovered and backed toward the mantel. Phaedra watched, terrified. Why didn’t James draw his own weapon? Her gaze flicked to where his sword should have been, the sickening realization sweeping over her. He was unarmed.
She leapt at Jonathan, catching at his arm. He shoved her roughly and knocked her into the tea table. She fell,.bringing the table down with her. The glasses shattered and the poisoned wine stained the carpet blood-red.
James was forced farther back as Jonathan came at him, brandishing the sword. “Villain!” Jonathan shrieked. “You hurt Phaedra once, but you’ll never touch her again. I will protect her as I always have done.”
He lunged wildly, but James again eluded him. As Phaedra struggled to her feet, she saw that James had managed to move away from the fireplace into the center of the room.
“Easy, Jonathan,” he soothed. “I have no intention of hurting Phaedra.”
“Liar! You have come to snatch her away from me.” Jonathan lunged again, this time catching the end of James’s cloak with the sword. James dove toward the sideboard. In desperation, he snatched up the thick crystal pitcher and dashed its contents over Jonathan’s face.
Letting out an inhuman scream, Jonathan dropped the sword. He clutched madly at his eyes and fell to his knees, writhing in torment.
“Wh-What?” James glanced toward Phaedra, his eyes clouded with confusion.
“Acid,” Phaedra cried, pointing to the pitcher James still held in his hand. “It was acid.”
With a savage oath, James flung the pitcher aside. He leaped at Jonathan and pinned him to the ground, trying to restrain the older man from tearing at his own flesh.
“Water! Fetch water!” James commanded. When Phaedra stood frozen in horror, he bellowed, “Move!”
She bolted from the room.
Hours later the parlor yet bore signs of the struggle. The poisoned wine had left a large red stain on the rug, and no one had bothered to upright the tea table. James perched upon the edge of the settee. He buried his face in his hands as they waited for some word from the bedchamber upstairs, where the doctor was attending Jonathan.
Phaedra crowded close to James, curling one arm about his rigid shoulders. The room was silent, except for the fire crackling upon the hearth.
“Blind,” James muttered at last. “He’s going to be God-cursed blind.”
Phaedra stroked back the dark strands of hair that fell across his brow. “It was not your fault. You had no way of knowing. It was Jonathan himself who placed the acid in that pitcher. He meant to kill you.”
“The poor bastard was mad. I only wanted to stop him, not maim him in such horrible fashion. He’d be better off dead.”
James pulled away from her. He rose to his feet, rejecting her efforts at consolation.
A lump formed in Phaedra’s throat as she stared at him. This was the man she had once thought of as cold-blooded. But a lack of feeling had never been James’s problem. The man felt far too much.
When a sound came from the hall beyond, both she and James tensed, anticipating the return of the doctor.
“Jamey-boy?” someone called, in a lilting Irish accent. The parlor door opened, and a tousled head of dark curls poked inside the room. “Lethington? Where the deuce have you been, man? I’ve been waiting forever.”
Gilly halted abruptly as his gaze fell upon Phaedra. “Fae!” He bounded into the room with a joy-filled cry and swept her up into his arms. His roguish green eyes moistened as he choked, “Damn it, Fae. I thought you’d been carried off by the banshee this time for sure.”
She started to assure him she was very much alive when he gave her an angry shake. “What the devil do you mean vanishing that way, frightening the life out of everyone? Where have you been?”
Phaedra drew back, wiping away her own tears. “It is a long story,” she said. And she wasn’t sure she would ever have the heart to tell it all.
Gilly’s eyes darted shrewdly from her to James’s haggard face. Her cousin uprighted the overturned tea table. “What in blazes has been happening here? Where’s Jonathan?”
