At the very least, the man was an enigma Evangeline had no clue how to solve.
“I don’t know,” she said aloud, unsure whether she was addressing Susan’s spoken query or her own unvoiced questions.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You were there! Did you learn whether Heatherbrook died peacefully or not?”
Evangeline nodded reluctantly.
“Well? Did he kick off in his slumber? Or was something more sinister afoot?”
“Something more sinister, I’m afraid.”
“Aaahh! I insist you divulge every detail. What happened? Who killed him?”
Evangeline sorely wished she could tell her about her vision and how badly the experience shook her. For years, she’d ached for a friend, someone she could discuss her Gift with, someone who could be trusted. But Mama said thetoncould never be trusted. Susan was nice, but also a member of theton. And Susan’s mother, the very woman Mama had entrusted to keep her daughter and her secret, had been willing to inform a houseful of strangers of Evangeline’s visions over the breakfast table. Mama was right. Thetonwas not to be trusted.
So Evangeline just shrugged, and winced as the motion pulled at her sore shoulders.
“What?” Susan cried. “How don’t you know? You should know everything. And then you should tellme!”
If only life were that simple. Just the very thought—the sensation of laying atop her mattress, just as Lord Heatherbrook had lain across his mattress—the soft cushion of the feathers beneath her head just like the pillow beneath the earl’s, just like the pillow that covered his face, stealing his breath, stealing the air, stealing his life—
“Evangeline! Evangeline! Are you all right? You’re scaring—”
The moment Susan’s warm knuckles pressed against Evangeline’s forehead, the bedchamber disappeared. Instead, a wide flat plain rolled out before her, a never-ending field filled with row after row of wilting plants. A strange, dead farm Evangeline had never seen.
Susan races down one of the soil paths, sweating, panting, skirt hiked up to her shins so she could run even faster.
“Evangeline!” she yells. “Evangeline! Come back! He’s out there! He’ll kill you!”
Susan clutches at her side with one hand. The scrawny bushes scratch at her skirts.
“Evangeline,” she pants. “No. Wait. Come back.”
Up ahead, the neat rows of scraggy bushes ends. A pair of scarred brown horses chew at the closest plants. Stiff leather tethers the beasts to a small black carriage with dirty windows. An all-too-familiar driver perches aloft, holding the reins.
Her stepfather’s driver.
The vile blackguard bursts from an adjacent path. A kicking and biting version of herself flails in his arms, trying desperately to escape.
As always, he silences her with his fist…and laughs.
Susan lifted her fingers from Evangeline’s forehead. “Good Lord. You look worse now than when you arrived.”
Evangelinefeltworse than when she’d arrived. Worse, even, than when she’d arrived at Stanton House just three days before. Then she’d believed she had a chance of evading her stepfather until her twenty-first birthday in just a few months. Now she suspected her efforts would be futile. Wherever Susan was in the vision, so would Evangeline be—and Neal Pemberton right behind her. But where were they? Andwhenwere they? How much time did Evangeline have before her stepfather found her? A year? A week?
Now more than ever, she yearned for a friend.
Which might be why, instead of saying nothing, Evangeline said, “Don’t touch me.” At Susan’s stricken expression, Evangeline added, “It’s better if you don’t. I-I get visions when people touch me. And headaches. Awful ones.”
Evangeline expected Susan to laugh off the assertion, or at least to ask if Evangeline had just received a vision from their brief touch, or whether she’d gotten a vision from Lord Heatherbrook’s cold flesh.
Instead, Susan’s forehead creased. “I was just feeling for fever. How else can you feel for fever? Has no one ever touched you? How can you live without being touched?”
“My mother touched me. She felt for my fevers.”
“But she’s dead. Who will feel for your fevers now?”
Pain gripped Evangeline’s heart. “Nobody.”
