“If you want my forgiveness, fine. You have it. Try to get better for them. Physicians can be wrong. Let me get Kath—Lady Hampton. Maybe try a new treatment.”
“No, not forgiven. Have to confess. Jahleel, I have to tell.”
“No.” He pounded back to the bed, inches from picking up the sick man and thrashing him. “Don’t tell me how you loved Katherine all along and couldn’t help—”
“I lied. I schemed. She turned to me in desperation, and I took advantage.”
Jahleel blinked, looked at his own balling fist and prayed that the temptation to punch a dying man would pass. “Speak fast. Tell me this new lie.”
“Truth.” Tavis put a hand to his nightshirt, right over his heart. “Father cut me off. No money. You left.”
“I left Saint Petersburg and Katherine to go take care of my father. That’s what a dutiful son does.”
“You made me swear not to tell anyone about your father’s decline or the battle to invalidate your parent’s marriage. Katherine. . . in trouble.”
“What?” Jahleel clutched the bedpost to give his hands something to do. “What about Katherine? What kind of trouble?”
“You left . . . family way . . . cad.”
“What?”
“Baby.”
“I was to be a father? If I’d known I’d have given up my fight for ascension. I’d give up everything for her. You know how I loved her.”
“Letter. I had Carew write this letter. Burn it once you read. Night table.”
Jahleel stuffed the cut of foolscap into his pocket. “Where’s my child? A girl or boy? Where?”
“Boy, but stillborn. You’d have made a great rich godfather.”
Like he’d fallen off a horse, Jahleel dropped into the chair Katherine had abandoned. “No wonder she hates me.”
“Yes. Yes, she does.” Tavis coughed and smiled.
He cursed the dying man in Russian, offered some choice phrases in the Ethiopian dialect his mother had taught him.
Were five minutes up?
Jahleel could take no more revelations. “If you weren’t looking like the devil, Tavis, we’d duel. I’d win and celebrate killing you.”
“I’m evil. And worse. Her money’s gone.”
“The debts you ran up.”
“Yes. House will go. Creditors. Don’t know last time . . . paid Mr. Thom.”
“How? How could you do this? I can’t believe this. You had her and her money. You’re losing them both.”
“Letter. Read. Then you fix.”
Couldn’t feel his hands. Jahleel’s palms vibrated like he’d have a spasm. “I can’t fix this. You need to be in hell.” He leapt up, again wanting to throttle Tavis. “You could’ve gotten word to me. You knew how I felt about Katherine. The strain of us ending, of her thinking I’d shamed her, that’s what killed our baby.”
“If I could take . . . back . . . I’d not’ve . . . bet. A fiver . . . too little to die.”
“A fiver wouldn’t do anything for the debts if Katherine has to sell her father’s coal business. You horrible—”
“You fix.”
