Fielding stood and pulled on his trousers. He was the worst sort of ass. He’d come here to tell her about the reversal of the curse, but he’d taken one look at her in that bathtub and lost his mind. Suddenly all he could think about was what his mother had told him. He was David’s son. The Raven’s son. And he’d needed to forget, needed to lose himself in Esme’s light.
Now Esme fancied herself in love with him. In love with a man he could never be. He was no better than the Raven. They were cut from the same cloth; the Raven’s blood ran through his veins.
She looked so small huddled in the large bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. Her still-damp hair lay in soft curls around her head. God, she was so beautiful, so fragile. But he knew that no matter how much he tried, he could never be the man she wanted him to be.
He’d wanted to believe he could, but his mother’s revelation had confirmed otherwise. How could he settle down and be a good husband, when neither the man who’d sired him nor the one who’d raised him had been able to make his mother happy? He had to end this now, before he did more than break Esme’s heart.
“I don’t love you,” he said. Though as he said the words, his heart seized in his chest.
She forced herself to swallow the tears forming in her eyes. “Why did you come here this morning?” Her voice was brittle.
He cleared his throat in hopes that he could dissolve the emotion clinging there. “The diary is wrong. About the bracelets and their curse.” That’s not what he wanted to say. He longed to tell her the truth about who he was. But he was too afraid of her reaction. He was revolted by the idea himself. Esme, with her scholarly ethics, would be repulsed by the knowledge that he was the Raven’s son—that she had just made love with the spawn of the devil himself.
Her expression pinched as she looked down at the bracelet. “I’m wearing this thing, and you can attest to the fact that I can’t remove it.”
“Yes. That isn’t the part I was referring to,” he said.
She pulled the heavy coverlet up around her, creating more of a boundary between them. “Please say what you came to say, then leave me with the only shred of dignity I have left.”
He started to take a step forward, but he stopped himself. “I found Waters last night.”
“Is he here?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “But I noticed something. Something perhaps we should have considered before.” He rubbed his forehead. “Everyone in the pub was ill. Then the moment Waters walked in, their illnesses became even worse. Visibly so.”
Her frown deepened.
“Even the serving girl, Minnie, said something about business being slow. The crowd had thinned considerably from the last time we were there. When I asked her where everyone was, she said they were all sick. She looked rather ill as well.” He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the memory of what he’d seen.
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Fielding, what are you trying to say?”
“The bracelets don’t curse the wearer, they curse those around them.” When she said nothing, he sat on the edge of the bed. “Waters must be wearing the band of disease.”
”That can’t be,” she whispered. Her eyes had widened with shock, her skin gone impossibly pale.
“Do you know what this means?” he asked.
“I do,” she said quietly. She did not move, simply sat there staring down at her own bracelet as if looking for an explanation or confirmation. “It means that all the while I was losing my heart to you, all the times you let me touch you, that you touched me in return ” Her voice hitched. “When you made love to me, you only did so because you were under some sort of spell.” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears and sorrow, but when she spoke her voice was steely with resolve. “Get out.”
He hadn’t even denied it. Esme flung herself back on her bed and stared up at the painted ceiling. Fielding didn’t want her, at least he wouldn’t want her once she took off the bracelet. And she’d professed her love to him. Her cheeks flamed with humiliation.
She truly loved him. After all, she had not been affected by the curse. She had no other excuse for her behavior.
All the things she’d done. Pressing herself against him, kissing him, sitting on his lap, all with no provocation on his part.
It mattered not that she had honestly believed herself to be under the power of the bracelet, unable to control her inner desires. Had she been using the curse only as an excuse to behave as badly as she wanted? Had it been nothing other than some secret wanton behavior she’d hidden away for years? Thank goodness she didn’t wear a band of anger; no telling what she would have done.
She’d told him she loved him, and despite his reaction, despite the curse, she meant it. For a moment, she’d thought she’d seen love shining in his eyes, but that had been nothing but a cruel trick of the fates. It had been nothing but his reaction to the damned curse.
And that reaction did beg a certain question: Why had Fielding responded so strongly to her band, yet none of the other men she’d encountered, such as Max or the men from the dinner party, had a similar reaction? Granted, she hadn’t acted the wanton with anyone else; still, their lack of response was curious. Putting her bare feet to the floor, Esme contemplated what she knew she had to do.
It was beyond time to remove this bloody band. Not only had she lost her heart, but with the upcoming eclipse, she was dangerously close to losing her life as well.
CHAPTER 21
Fielding tightened his coat around him, making sure the diary was well hidden as he climbed the steps to the British Museum. This time he had no intention of breaking in or staying past business hours. He could very well have simply sent the diary back to them by post, anonymously, of course, but for Esme’s sake he wanted to return the book himself. Make certain it was put back where they found it.
Using a fictitious name, he’d scheduled a meeting with the curator to discuss a potential donation. The diary weighed heavy in his inner coat pocket. All he needed to do was cause some sort of distraction so he could deposit the book unseen.
