“Cait. There’s something I need to tell you. I meant to this morning, but Gothard—”
“I know. There are reasons you don’t want to stay with me. We’ll talk of it on the way.”
He took her by the shoulders. “That’s not it, Cait.” His eyes and voice were frantic. “Not at all. You mustn’t think such a thing—”
She pressed her mouth to his, to silence his proposal. He’d scaled the wall for her. She’d been wrong, and he loved her enough, after all. Her heart sang with joy, but she hadn’t time for such things now.
She put her answer into her kiss, an embrace of such fiery possession that he had to know how she felt. Reluctantly she pulled away, knowing soon she would have all the kisses she could want. He loved her. She’d never doubt his love again for the rest of her days.
He’d climbed four stories for her. The equivalent of a mountain for other men.
“I love you, too, Jase. We’ll talk of it later. I must get to the wedding.”
“You don’t understand—”
At the sound of pounding she tore her gaze from his and hurried into the front room, Jason at her heels. He yanked her back just as the door slammed in, barely staying on its hinges.
Beyond its frame, Kendra and Ford stood in the half-dark of the corridor. And behind them, rubbing the shoulder he must have used to break down the door—
“Cameron?” Confused, Cait stared at him in disbelief. He looked pale. As Jason moved behind her to shut the door to the bedroom, she took a wooden step forward.
“Cait.” Her cousin pushed his way between the twins and wrapped her into a hug that smelled of home. “Cait—I’m…” Laced with sympathy, his voice faltered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Her gaze flickered to the door shielding the other room. Could the news of Wat’s death be spreading already? “It was an accident, Cam.”
He pulled away, searching her eyes with his. “You knew it before now, then?”
She only looked at him, baffled.
Jason peeled away Cameron’s arms and took her by the shoulders. “Caithren. The thing I’ve been trying to tell you…”
He looked down at his boots, then back up and straight at her. His eyes held such pain, she was taken aback.
A cold knot formed in her stomach.
He drew a strangled breath. “Adam is dead. At my hands.”
She was speechless. Adam was dead? It didn’t seem possible.
Jason’s green gaze implored her, but she couldn’t get past the shocking news to figure out what he was asking of her.
“There was a duel. Geoffrey Gothard pulled your brother from the crowd and used him as a shield. I wasn’t fast enough—or skilled enough—to control my blade. And Adam died for it.”
“Adam is dead?” Her words were barely a whisper. “And you knew it and didn’t tell me?”
Jason just looked at her for a long, silent moment. Then he turned and walked out through the empty doorway, into the emptier world beyond.
SEVENTY-ONE
FORD CHASED Jason down the corridor. “You cannot just leave!” He plucked him by the sleeve. “How long have you known?”
“Nearly two days. I felt wretched keeping it from her, but I just couldn’t tell her. I knew it would be like this.” He wrenched from Ford’s grasp and continued walking.
Ford ran after him. “You knew it would be like what?”
“She hates me. Couldn’t you see it her eyes? Whatever feelings she had for me just died.”
It had been even worse than he’d thought it would be. Much, much worse.
“I couldn’t stay and watch that. I love her. Gothard’s well and truly ruined my life.” He started down a narrow flight of stairs.
“You never would have met her without Gothard.” Ford’s voice came from behind him. “She’s in shock. She might need some time to absorb it all, but if she loved you before, she still will. It was an accident.”
At the bottom of the steps, Jason whirled. “I killed her brother. Her brother. Do you reckon I’d find forgiveness for the man who killed you, or Kendra, or Colin? It was bad enough when the man was nameless. This isn’t easy to live with, Ford.”
He stopped and took a deep breath. Inside him was naught but an abyss of grief and regret and guilt. But he had to look outside himself right now. He had other responsibilities.
“Go back to Kendra and Cait,” he said. “And—her cousin, is he?” Ford nodded. “She loves him—he will comfort her much better than I could. She killed Wat, you know.”
“What?”
“Wat’s in the back room. You’ll need to send for the authorities. I take it you warned Scarborough?”
“Criminy.” Ford’s eyes widened. “No. We ran into her cousin and learned the truth and—egad, I forgot. We came straight here to tell Cait what we knew, and—”
Jason was already running for the exit.
JASON STRODE through Lord Darnley’s front door, past the gaping footman and into a swarm of glittering guests. Scarborough. Where was Scarborough? What the deuce did the man look like? He’d seen him once or twice at court, but, hang it, he’d never paid much attention, and—
With a jolt of relief he spotted him. Sandy-haired, like Gothard, but taller and sporting a broad mustache. Dressed in deep blue velvet and apparently unconcerned, Scarborough stood in a circle of young men, discussing the shocking news that Clarendon, the Lord Chancellor, had resigned earlier in the day.
“Barbara was leaning from her window, cheering at his departure,” Scarborough said as Jason walked up. Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine and the king’s longtime mistress, had always hated Clarendon. “So do you know what he said to her?”
The men leaned closer into the circle. “What?”
“’Pray remember, my lady, that if you live, you will grow old.’”
Amid their laughter, Jason touched Scarborough on the arm. “I apologize for interrupting, but
