“Whom I saved from a thrashing the night I returned her to you,” Aaron pointed out.
“Ah. But don’t you discipline your hounds? Your horses?” Stafford inquired with a lifted finger.
Aaron’s look could have severed Stafford’s head from his shoulders.
“I do not thrash beasts. Certainly not women.” A pause. “But I’ve a rather ill streak when it comes to a particular sort.”
Stafford’s lips went thin, and he distracted himself by selecting a piece of bread and biting into it.
“What would you say if I told you I do not believe in the curse?” Catherine asked, voice trembling as she mustered all her courage.
An identical look passed between all three: Nora, Benjamin, and Stafford. It was a knowing look, heavy with apprehension and cunning.
They all know! Even Stafford knew? Even Aaron knew. Is this a conspiracy that encompasses all?
The weakness that gnawed at her body spread tendrils of doubt and paranoia into her mind. Aaron silently took her hand where it rested upon the table. She tried to draw away, but he resisted,holding her firmly. Then his eyes found hers. She searched them for reassurance.
Tell me that you are not part of this? Tell me you are Aaron Tarnley and that you remember our golden years of childhood together… But you cannot.
She succeeded in extricating her hand. Aaron’s face hardened. His hand withdrew, and his eyes became ice.
“You gave me poppy juice,” Catherine said bluntly. “You made me weak. I don’t know why.”
“You made her dependent upon it,” Aaron fixed onto the end.
Uncle Benjamin took his wife’s hand from across the table. “Say that in public and I will gladly lay suit against you for slander, Your Grace.”
“And I would stand as a witness, Benjamin,” Stafford piped up with all the somberness he could muster.
Aaron smiled with the venom of dishonor. A new expression, one she had never experienced—but one that startled her all the same. “You think I would fight my battles incourtover my wife’s well-being?”
Nora gave a harsh laugh, her facade slipping.
“This is nothing but wild fancy. The girl raves.”
Stafford leaned forward, his tone smooth as oil.
“Miss Ainsley, your misfortune is grievous. Yet your guardians have only sought to protect you. Theillness, contagion perhaps, must be treated. I have secured a place for you in a most reputable sanatorium. For your safety and the safety of others. I am prepared to recompense handsomely, Your Grace,” he turned to Aaron, “if you will release her claim and allow us to see to her care.”
Aaron’s face blackened with vengeance.
“You speak as though she were a parcel to be traded. She is my wife. And I will not sell her. Nor abandon her.”
Nora sniffed, raising her chin and thinning her lips until they were white.
“Then you will regret it. Catherine carries a taint that no man can bear.”
Stafford’s smile chilled Catherine.
“Be careful, Your Grace. There are ways a name may be brought low. One may see it in print, perhaps.”
“One may see it in an obituary, too,perhaps.” Aaron’s voice was steel.
“There is no need for aggression, or talk of…gossip,” Benjamin smiled, spreading his hands.
Catherine noticed that two of the large rings he had worn for as long as she’d known him were missing. They had borne precious stones and been fashioned of solid gold. A minor detail, but it struck in her mind.
“The offer has been made, Your Grace. If you are still able to… it might be in your interests to withdraw from your present arrangement and allow us to once again bear the…risk,of Miss Ainsley.”
