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Ian crossed to her on soundless feet. He knelt beside the chair. He didn’t want to startle her. Gently touching her cheek, he whispered, “Sweeting?”
Her eyelids slowly crept open. She stared at him, her lovely eyes, unfocused and sad. Dark blue-violet shadows beneath them made her eyes appear huge in her wan face. A tremulous smile played around the edges of her mouth. “Ian?” She lifted her hand to touch his face. “Are you real? Am I dreaming?”
“I’m real.” Turning his head into her hand, he kissed the palm.
He knew the instant she came fully awake and reality rudely rushed in.
Vangie’s drowsiness fled. She dropped her hand and jerked away from him, retreating against the chair. Her pupils shrank to fine points, accusation simmering in her eyes. “Did you…?”
Ian hushed her with a finger to her lips. “Vangie, I give you my word. I did not, nor would I ever, instruct Lucinda to lock you in here. She’s a bitter, vengeful woman, though I never thought her capable of this kind of maliciousness.”
“But she said, the arrangements…?”
He took her cold hand in his. The veins stood out, vivid blue ribbons, against the thin skin. “Her moving to the dower house was the only arrangement we spoke about.”
For the first time, Ian surveyed the chamber. To his knowledge, it had been vacant for at least thirty years. The squalor staggered him. Disbelief and anger registered simultaneously. Vangie had lived here the past three weeks? My God, he’d promised her she’d not go without again.
He’d failed her. Colossally.
His gaze grazed to her fine-boned face. Wariness lingered in her eyes. Angling to his feet, he extended his hand. “Come, let’s be away from here.”
She placed her hand in his, and let him draw her upright. She swayed before he put a steadying arm around her shoulders.
A movement outside caught the corner of his eye. Excellent. He smiled in satisfaction. There, along the footpath, making their way to the dower house, trudged Lucinda and numerous servants, each encumbered with parcels and baggage. One of the footmen pushed a hand-cart piled high with possessions.
“See, sweeting.” Ian pointed at them.
Vangie turned to peer out the window. She raised her curious, yet relieved gaze to his. “She’s gone?”
He smiled tenderly, kissing her on the nose. “Yes, and she’ll not be back. She’s not welcome in this house any longer. I intend to send her far away.” Guiding her to the door, Ian said, “I think a substantial breakfast is in order, my lady, and a lengthy soak as well.”
“That sounds nice.” Her listlessness worried him. Had Lucinda succeeded in breaking Vangie’s spirit?
With one arm around her waist, he led her down the narrow, curving flight of stairs. His hand skimmed her ribs. Already slender, she’d lost weight she could ill afford to lose. Damn Lucinda. What maggot had entered her head?
What maggot had crawled into his, leaving Vangie at her mercy? He of all people knew his stepmother’s penchant for cruelty. Hadn’t he endured it while trying to protect Geoff from her almost their entire childhood?
He should’ve never listened to her lies about Vangie. He typically wouldn’t have except Charlotte, for her own selfish reasons, had validated her mother’s fabrications. Good God, in all likelihood the entire tale Lucinda told of Vangie’s role in Geoff’s death was an exaggerated falsehood too.
Tanny and Jasper hovered at the bottom of the stairs. Both appeared immensely relieved upon seeing him and Vangie.
She offered them a reassuring smile, quipping, “My handsome prince has rescued me from my tower.” She turned a grateful smile on him, and in that moment, she captured Ian’s heart forever.
