“Where is Edgar? And Lord Sir Leopold?”
She noticed he did not ask after little Anthony. “They are in the parlor playing with your son.”
Lord Julian turned so pale that Chloe reached for him. It startled her when he grabbed her hand in a tight hold and looked around the room a little frantically. When he finally looked at her again it was a struggle to keep her own expression one of gentle concern. For the moment, he was not the earl, or even that lecherous debaucher of the last year. He was simply a man trying desperately to cope with the pain of an enormous betrayal. She cautiously returned his tight grasp.
“Tell me exactly how you came to have the boy?” Julian asked, thinking it odd that holding her small hand should bring him a measure of comfort, but reluctant to give that up.
“If you will be patient, I shall begin at the very beginning,” Chloe said. “When my sister’s husband died, she grew ill with grief. She was already several months gone with child, and that also sapped her strength. We both knew she would not survive the birthing and soon doubted that her child would, either. We knew your wife was also carrying a child and soon knew her plans for it.”
“How?”
“Let me explain that later, please. So, knowing what was to come, we gathered the bones of an infant. As is custom, London graveyards are often cleared of the long dead to make room for the newly dead. During one of the times that Laurel felt somewhat stronger, we went to London and gathered the bones we needed. We then returned to our cottage on the moors that stretch between Colinsmoor and the baron of Darkvale’s property. And then we waited. My sister grew weaker and the birthing was hard, the bleeding—” Chloe took a deep breath to push aside a lingering grief. “Two men arrived and so I hid myself away. They took poor little Charles Henry, who was stillborn, and set Anthony in my sister’s arms. One man, Jake Potter, could not just walk away. He tried to make my dying sister and the baby comfortable and warm, even building a fire. Then he slipped some papers beneath her covers, telling her that he and a few others had gathered what proof they could for the boy so that, if he survived, he could prove who he was.”
“But he did no more? He just left her and the child alone and helpless?”
“He was afraid. They are all afraid at Colinsmoor. People who disobey do not live long. Jake’s partner reminded him of that sad truth. Something about a man named Melvin and a pit. Leopold knows more about all that than I do. The moment Jake left, I rejoined my sister. She soon died, but she was at peace with it. I buried her and that poor babe’s bones near the cottage. Then I took Anthony and headed for London to join Leopold, who was expecting me. For the last three years we have waited for you to learn the truth about your wife.”
“I have known most of it for a year now.”
“True, but you did not take it well, did you? The way you behaved made Leopold feel that you were not really prepared to hear all the truth. We cannot wait any longer. You came too close to being murdered this time and, even now, Anthony sees Leopold and me as his family. And to be blunt, his heritage needs protecting—now.”
Julian let go of her hand and covered his eyes, softly reciting every curse he knew. He sought to stir up anger and resolve, to overcome the urge to weep like some brokenhearted child. The crimes against him were almost too great to comprehend, especially since his wife and his uncle had committed them. Yet he did believe and the grief, the pain, he fought to control formed a hard knot in his chest. Worse, this wide-eyed innocent miss knew it all, even knew of the depths he had sunk into over the last year.
As he began to regain control of his emotions, he realized something else. This small, delicate woman and her dying sister had planned, very cleverly, a way to save his child. This stranger had buried her sister and, despite the grief she must have been suffering, had taken his child out of danger. She had made her way to London and cared for his child for three years as she waited for him to be able to take on the responsibility. What he owed this woman and Lord Sir Leopold was beyond calculating, and the debt was bound to grow as they helped him defeat his enemies. It humbled him and he found that an uncomfortable feeling. When he took his hand from his eyes, he stared at the bedclothes as he tried to conquer that feeling as well.
“I still do not understand how you knew to do all you did,” he finally said.
“Ah, well, I suspect you have heard a few rumors about the Wherlockes and our cousins the Vaughns,” she said.
“Foolish things about spirits and gifts. Even sorcery and witchcraft. There have always been such rumors about your family. One should pay no heed to rumors.”
“Nay? Not even when those same rumors have been whispered throughout the ton for generations? True, many rumors are to be doubted, but I believe one should at least listen to them. In our case, these rumors have caused wives to leave our men and husbands to leave our women. And most leave the children they have bred together as well. Time and time again. In the past, those rumors have caused Vaughns and Wherlockes to be burned at the stake or hanged or hunted down like wild beasts.”
He frowned at her. “Are you claiming to be a witch?”
“Nay, m’lord,” she replied as she plumped up his pillows again and helped him sit up more comfortably. “Oh, there have been some of us who have dabbled in what many call the dark arts but, nay, we are not evil witches or warlocks or worshippers of Satan.” She held out a goblet of cider enriched with healing herbs. “Drink.”
After sniffing the drink she held under his nose, Julian asked, “What is in this?”
“A few herbs to gentle the pain you feel and to enrich your blood, build up your strength, and hasten your healing. No eye of newt or even a pinch of magic.”
Ignoring that, he drank it down with a little assistance from her. “Why remind me of what is whispered about your family?” he asked as she set the goblet aside.
“Because of how Laurel and I, and even Leo, knew what was to come and what needed to be done. I had a dream, or vision if you will.” She held up her hand when he started to speak. “Hear me out first, if you would be so kind.” When he pressed his lips together and curtly nodded, she continued, “Laurel married beneath her as far as my mother and society was concerned, a good but very common man. My mother cast her out. Laurel and I had kept in touch through letters I smuggled out to her and which my aunt smuggled to me. That is how I knew when Laurel suspected she was with child. Shortly after learning that, I had a dream. In that dream I saw poor Henry, her husband, swallowed by the sea. I saw Laurel upon a bed, her body swollen with child, but there was little life there and it was rapidly fading.”
Chloe sat down in the chair by the bed and tightly gripped the arms as she continued, “Lurking about outside the small cottage where my sister lay dying was a beautiful woman, also great with child. She wore flowing white robes decorated with bleeding hearts and skulls. The dream quickly grew very dark and frightening. The woman turned frightening as well and yet remained beautiful. She tore the dead child from my sister’s womb and then fled toward a mist-shrouded castle. Other figures, shadowy ones, flitted about and all the while the glow of life within Laurel continued to fade. I saw Henry weeping and reaching out for his wife and child. Then, suddenly, life appeared again, settling itself in the crook of Laurel’s arm.”
“And you could make sense of that?” Julian asked when Chloe fell silent for a moment, intrigued despite his lingering doubts.
“Some. I did know that I had to get to Laurel. My mother said that if I left, I was not to return.” She shrugged. “I have not. When I reached Laurel, she had just received news of Henry’s death. I had to help her bury him and then nurse her. She recovered a little, enough to give me false hope. I also discovered who the beautiful woman was and gathered all the information on her that I could. Laurel did as well. Soon the plot was clear and we began to spin our own plots, to prepare ourselves to thwart the woman. It all transpired as my dream foretold,” she whispered. “Anthony was the life brought into the midst of death and grief.”
Although Julian was still not sure he believed