Andrea Kane (43 page)

Braden had wondered the same thing. “I honestly don’t know, sweetheart.”

Kassie pulled free of Braden’s embrace. “Oh, why can’t I remember?” she choked out, anger and frustration welling up inside her.

“You will.”

“When?” she demanded in a tortured voice. “When will I remember?” She didn’t wait for Braden’s reply, having come to a rash but necessary decision. “Braden, I want to go to the cliffs … to the spot from which I supposedly saw my mother fall.” Her expression was determined, only the slight quivering of her lips hinting at her unvoiced fear.

Braden started. “Why?” he demanded. He remembered a beautiful, frightened fifteen-year-old girl telling him that she never walked the paths along the cliffs. He had long since guessed the reason why.

Kassie met Braden’s gaze resolutely. “It is time for us to stop evading the obvious, Braden. If I am to remember what happened that night, I must return to where it occurred. Perhaps then my memory will be jarred.”

Braden was shaking his head vehemently. “No.”

“Yes.”

He recognized the stubborn lift of her chin, the firm glint in her eyes, but this time he was unyielding, his every instinct alerted to the possible dire consequences of Kassie’s intentions. “I won’t have you subjected to that kind of anguish. Some things are better left untouched.”

“Tell me, husband,” Kassie asked shrewdly, “are you afraid for my safety … or my sanity?”

Braden’s answer was equally straightforward. “Both.”

Kassie remained silent for a moment, then began to refill the basket. “We should return to the house.”

Braden frowned, distinctly unhappy with his wife’s response. He knew her too well to believe that she had been so easily convinced. Her quick acceptance of his decision made him extremely uneasy. “Kassie,” he began, “I want you to promise me—”

“I understood you perfectly, Braden,” she interrupted, gathering up the blanket. “There is no need for further discussion.”

He felt a small measure of relief. “Fine. As long as you understand why it is I worry about you.”

At that she turned and smiled. “I do. How could I not?” She dimpled. “It is because you love me. You’ve told me so countless times today.”

“I have, haven’t I?” His grin was slow, melting. “So see that you remember it.”

“I shall,” she answered softly.

Braden rode back to Sherburgh alongside his wife, convinced that she understood him and deeply grateful that she would obey.

Kassie had no intention of obeying.

She retreated to her bedchamber, lost in the process of formulating a plan. She was determined to solve this mystery, whatever the cost.

“Kassandra?”

Charles’s voice brought her up short. She hadn’t even seen him where he stood in the darkened corner of her room.

“Yes, Charles, it is I.” She watched him walk toward her, feeling no fear, only relief.

He stared down at her, a tortured look on his face. “Would you care to leave the door ajar?” he asked, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I would like this talk to be private, but I will understand if you are afraid to be alone with a potential murderer.”

Kassie did not flinch but left the door as it was, fully closed. “There is no need for me to open the door, Charles,” she answered softly, studying his tired, lined face. “I never once thought you were guilty or capable of murder.”

Some of the harsh lines around his mouth softened. “Thank you for that,” he said simply.

Kassie shrugged. “There is no need to thank me for speaking the truth. I would much rather you showed your appreciation by doing the same.”

Charles sighed. “And so I shall.”

“You knew my mother.” Kassie wasted no time in beginning.

Charles nodded. “Yes, Kassandra, I knew your mother … I knew her quite well.”

“Were you lovers?” Kassie asked with customary directness.

Charles looked stunned. “Lovers?” He laughed, shaking his head in bewildered amusement. “Sometimes it amazes me how much like Elena you are. She was just as outspoken, often scandalously so. No, Kassandra, your mother and I were not lovers.” He paused for a fraction of an instant. “Elena was my sister.”

Kassie sank down on the bed. “Your sister?” she repeated, shocked.

Charles rubbed his hands together, fighting the familiar pain that talking about Elena brought. “Yes, my sister. Well, actually my half-sister. Although neither Elena nor I ever made that distinction … at least not between ourselves.” He walked toward the window and stared out with unseeing eyes. “But the rest of the world is not as kind, Kassandra, as you yourself have found out. Bloodlines count heavily in the world of the
ton,
and it was no different with Elena’s father …
our
father.” His tone held no bitterness, only resignation.

Kassie searched her mind frantically, trying to remember what she could of her grandfather, an esteemed member of the
ton,
titled and wealthy. She had seen him but several times, as he had all but denounced his daughter when she had married beneath her station. All Kassie could recall was a grim-faced, white-haired man whose rare visits to the cottage always left her mother unsettled and in tears.

“Your grandfather was a stubborn, pompous man whose reputation meant more to him than anything else … including his family,” Charles continued, as if reading Kassie’s mind. “My mother was one of a large parade of women in his life and in his bed. She was a chambermaid at his estate, barely sixteen, too young to differentiate love from lust. When she discovered she was carrying a child she assumed Edward would be as thrilled as she.” He made a choked sound. “She was wrong. He was livid. And when I turned out to be a boy, a potential heir to his wealth, he was enraged. He denied being my father and threatened my mother with bodily harm if she should ever dare accuse him publicly. She was terrified, not for her own safety, but for mine. I was but a few months old when she bundled me up and took me far away, where neither Edward nor his influence could reach me. She told the next family who employed her that she was a widow, and they accepted her story without question. But she never really recovered from the shock of Edward’s rejection.” A muscle worked in Charles’s jaw. “My mother died eight years later. She never saw your grandfather again, and after her death no one but myself knew the secret of my paternity. Until Elena.” He smiled fondly, remembering. “Elena was more than ten years my junior, and I knew nothing of her birth. One day my curious little sister, now a woman grown, discovered some old notes to Edward scribbled in my mother’s hand and deduced the truth. She made some discreet inquiries and found out I was a groom at Sherburgh. She came to see me”—his eyes filled with tears—“not to denounce me, but to claim me as her brother. I argued, but your mother was a very persistent young woman. At last I agreed to let her acknowledge me privately, but never publicly. The repercussions from your grandfather would be too severe. So she agreed that our infrequent meetings
had
to be held in secret, and
never
at Edward’s estate or at Sherburgh. By this time Elena had met your father and fallen desperately in love with him. The match was forbidden by Edward, which, of course, made it twice as appealing to my rebellious Elena.” Charles gritted his teeth. “For the first time I actually agreed with Elena’s father. For despite his reputed good looks and charm, I never trusted Robert Grey; pure instinct, since we had never officially met. What I heard of his excessive gambling and the occasional confusion I read in my sister’s eyes screamed their warning to me. But being headstrong like yourself, Elena would not listen to reason. Despite my objections, she married your father.

“At first they were wildly happy; so happy I was almost convinced I had been wrong. And then a few months later, everything changed. He became vehemently jealous, irrationally possessive, putting obsessive limitations on Elena’s freedom. She rebelled, fought him … until you were born. Then she was terrified that during one of his crazed tirades he would take his anger out on you. She had nowhere else to turn, so she complied docilely with his wishes, never going to parties, never speaking with other men.”

Charles inhaled sharply, then let out his breath on a shudder. “And Robert had one other obsession. He was ridden with hatred for the nobility, convinced that it was he who deserved their rank, their power, their wealth. He boasted everywhere of his nobly born wife who had given up everything to marry a man more deserving. I made Elena swear never to disclose my existence, for there was no telling what he would do if he knew she had a bastard brother who was the son of a lowly chambermaid. It was ironic. Your grandfather had just died, and we actually believed we were free of the past. Now it seemed that the present was even more ominous. There was no escape, although God knows we tried. Countless times I begged Elena to let me take the two of you away, but her fear of your father was just too great.

“And then she met someone.” Charles’s voice had grown soft, and Kassie stood shakily, straining to hear his words. “This man gave her a reason to live again, to love again. The sparkle was at last back in my sister’s eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to denounce the very thing that had put it there.”

“A man,” Kassie repeated, coming to stand behind Charles. “What man, Charles? Who was it?”

Charles wiped tears from his cheeks. “I don’t know, Kassandra. Elena always met him covertly, and she never divulged his name. All she said was that it was better that I not know, that enough pain had been caused by crossing forbidden lines.”

Kassie’s brows rose. “Forbidden lines? Was he married to another?”

Charles shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Then why didn’t my mother leave my father and stay with the man she loved?” she persisted.

Sadly Charles replied, “Because she
was
married to another. And she was afraid of how a possible scandal would affect you. She was always so protective of her precious, beautiful daughter,” he said with a gentle smile.

Kassie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What happened on the night my mother died?” she made herself ask.

Charles’s smile faded. “I was worried about her. She’d been different the last few weeks—quiet, strained. I begged her to tell me what was wrong, but she wouldn’t. I assumed your father was abusing her again.” A tremor went through him. “His rampages had been more frequent and had become physical as well as verbal. I wanted to kill him.” His hands closed into fists at his side. “I
should
have killed him. But I didn’t.” He turned to face Kassie, his features contorted with pain. “I knew Elena sought refuge walking along the cliffs. She always said that it gave her a sense of peace she could find nowhere else. The night she died I felt jumpy and uneasy all evening long. I couldn’t dispel the feeling that something horrible was going to happen. Finally I went out to the cliffs to see if I could find her, to assure myself of her well-being.” He let out an anguished sound. “But it was too late. She was already gone … lying there on the ground … pale and broken and …” He covered his face with his hands, unable to continue.

Her own cheeks wet with tears, Kassie went to Charles and gently tugged his hands from his face. “You’re my uncle,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Charles stared down at the perfect replica of his sister, this exceptional young woman who was Elena’s child. “How could I?” he choked out. “I was so afraid for you. After Elena’s death there was no one to protect you from that monster who called himself your father.” For the first time Kassie knew the depth of Charles’s hatred for Robert Grey, heard it in his voice. “I kept a silent vigil over you, checking on you as often and as discreetly as I could. Especially after the day Braden and I brought your father home from York … drunk.” He spat out the word. “At that time Braden made my role much easier by asking me to keep an eye on you. That gave me an excuse to do openly what I had been doing secretly all along.” He shook his head, anguish etched onto every plane of his handsome face. “Don’t you think I longed to tell you who I was? To share my love for Elena with you? But what would have been the result? If Grey had found out … I don’t know what he might have done to you. Although,” he added bitterly, “he did it anyway, didn’t he? He hurt you … and I could do nothing before it was too late. Just as it was too late for Elena.” Charles caught Kassie’s hands in his. “Forgive me, Kassandra,” he said in a voice that tore at Kassie’s heart. “I let you down … I let you
both
down.” He dropped his head, utterly defeated.

Kassie wrapped her arms about his waist. “You’ve never let me down, Charles,” she told him in a fierce whisper. “Nor did you let Mama down. She loved you. Just as I love you … loved you long before I knew you were my uncle. But now that I do know, I feel doubly blessed to have you not only as my friend, but as my family.”

Charles hugged her tightly to him. “Elena would be so proud of you, Kassandra,” he managed softly, “so very proud.” He stroked her hair gently. “As am I. You are every bit as beautiful as your mother was, both inside and out. You are also the most loyal and loving wife that I could ever want for Braden.”

At his words Kassie looked up and met her uncle’s tender gaze. “You love Braden very much, don’t you, Charles?”

“He is the son I never had.”

“Let him know that.” She stepped back, gripping Charles’s forearms tightly. “That was the advice you gave me not long ago,” she added with a watery smile. “And it worked. Talk to him, Charles. Tell him everything you told me. Give him a chance. Because as a very wise and wonderful man once told me, ‘I know you love him. Now go home and show Braden.’ ”

Charles studied Kassie for one silent moment, then leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Very well, Kassandra. I will.” He squeezed her hands. “Thank you for coming into my life,” he said simply, then he was gone.

Kassie’s legs felt weak, and she lowered herself to the bed, fighting the delayed reaction that was beginning to set in. Charles was her uncle. She had to cling to that fact, for it was the only good to come of this madness.