Page 58 of Captured By the Cold Duke
“You’re going to make it, my dear.”
“Just hold on. Just keep holding on.”
“Another spoonful, Your Grace. I know it tastes bad, but…”
“I’m sorry, Cherie. I wish so badly…”
“... I’d do anything…”
“...please forgive me…”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
The voices blurred together, overlapping with one another in harmonies and discordant tones that she couldn’t tell apart, liketrying to pick out individual instruments in an orchestra. She was still asleep, she thought. Otherwise, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t reach out and touch these people, who seemed to crowd around, press against her, trying to reassure her that everything would be okay.
But why am I asleep? Are you supposed to sleep this long? How long has it even been?
She couldn’t answer these questions, and every time they drifted too long through her mind, she pushed them away again.Stay asleep, another voice seemed to whisper in her ear, and this one sounded remarkably like her mother’s.Stay with me.
Mother!She wanted to shout, and then she was chasing the ghost of her mother through the hallways of her father’s estate in the countryside. Her mother was laughing, running ahead of her, always out of reach. She turned a corner, and there was Thomas, standing in the parlor, a look on his face like he’d been struck by lightning.
“You look like your mother,”he said, bowing low over her hand. He lingered there, seemingly unsure if he should continue, and then he let his lips graze along her bare skin. It was the first time a man had kissed her, and she was stunned into speechlessness. When she looked up, he was smiling at her tentatively.“I never noticed it before, but you are her spitting image.”
“I miss her,”she blurted out, and whereas, moments before she’d felt like a young lady, now she felt like a child again, cryingout for her mother. But Thomas didn’t look annoyed. He merely nodded.
“I miss my mother too.”
“I miss you, Cherie.” This voice was closer, louder. It didn’t seem to be coming from a dream. It was coming from much closer, and although she knew instinctively it belonged to someone she loved, she also knew that with this voice came pain, uncertainty, and doubt.
No,she thought desperately.I want to stay here, in this dream.
Her mother was back, laughing with her. Her father was there, too, filling the drawing room with the sound of his hearty laughter.
“Every day without you feels like an eternity,” the voice said. “And it makes me remember all the days I have spent in your presence. I shouldn’t have wasted a single one of them. From the moment you came back into my life, and especially from the moment you came to live in my home, I should have spent every second of every day with you, appreciating your humor, your laughter, your stubbornness… all of it.”
Cherie’s heart seemed to speed up. Who was this person, and why did he sound so sad? She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that she was sure he had appreciated her, but she couldn’t speak.
“But now I know what I could lose, I will never take it for granted again,” the voice continued. “I only hope it’s not too late, and that you will wake up and be able to forgive me. Please, Cherie. Please, forgive me.”
There was pressure somewhere around her side, and Cherie realized that whoever was speaking had also taken her hand. He seemed to be squeezing it.
“I have to go now, but I’ll be back. I’m going to make sure he can’t hurt anyone ever again. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll see him behind bars. It won’t be hard. He made it easy for us.”
Don’t go!She wanted to shout, but her mouth wasn’t working. Or at least, her mouth outside of the dream world wasn’t working. Inside, her words reverberated, bouncing off the walls of her head.
“Goodbye, Cherie,” the voice said, and she felt a soft, cool pressure on her forehead.A kiss. The same kiss on the hand! The same kiss from the parlor!
So, it was Thomas. Thomas was talking to her. And he was sorry for something. But why was he sorry? She wanted to shout out to him, to beg him to stay, to tell him he had nothing to apologize for, but then she felt his presence move away, and she knew he was gone.
I love you, she shouted inside her head.I think I have always loved you.And she promised herself that when she woke from this dream, she would say it out loud, as well.
“Are we ready?” Thomas asked the captain of the Bow Street Runners as the carriage holding them all trundled along the street toward Lord Rochford’s London mansion. “Do we have everything we need?”
“We’re ready, Your Grace,” the captain responded briskly. He was a no-nonsense kind of man with a thick gray mustache and steely eyes, and Thomas couldn’t help but trust him. He was exactly the kind of person he wanted on his side for arresting the earl.
Nor was he the only Bow Street Runner in the carriage. There were three of them sitting across from Thomas. Meanwhile, on his right sat Aidan, looking stoney-faced. To his left was Mr. Norton, who could attest to the cognac having cyanide in it. This wasn’t a trial, of course, and they wouldn’t be presenting evidence, but Thomas had wanted them all assembled to confront the earl and make sure he knew exactly how cornered he really was.
“Don’t worry,” Aidan said, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get him.”
