Ecstasy Wears Emeralds by Renee Bernard Page A

covers to feel Jackson’s feet, frowning at the chill he felt there despite the pile of feathered quilts on top of them. “You’re probably right. Would you like Miss Renshaw to come sit with you?”
    Jackson shook his head. “Not yet. I want you . . . to tell me . . . about the yogis.”
    â€œAgain?”
    â€œAgain.”
    Rowan nodded, taking Jackson’s cold hand into his. “They are so mystic and wonderful, Jackson. I couldn’t believe my own eyes, but I saw a man control his own heartbeat, slowing it down until I was sure his soul would have left his body. But there he sat, for long hours, as peaceful as a still pool. Somehow, with his mind and will alone, his body became a simple, elegant instrument that he could manipulate at will.”
    â€œControl . . . his . . . own . . . heartbeat,” Jackson repeated reverently in a whisper, his own breathing labored and uneven. “And it wasn’t . . . a trick?”
    â€œWe were on a riverbank. There were no curtains or mirrors. They even allowed me to check his pulse. It wasn’t a trick, Jackson. Some things are simply true, even if we don’t understand them.”
    â€œI . . . like . . . that.”
    â€œMy translator told me it was a form of prayer and that the holiest of men could achieve a state where they felt no pain. They could sleep on beds of nails and balance boulders on their heads that would crush an ordinary man.”
    â€œNo . . . pain . . .”
    â€œThat’s right. And without pain, do you see how they became invincible?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo, we’ll try it, you and I.”
    Gayle was sure her heart would break at the sight of Rowan tenderly leaning over the boy, their eyes locked onto each other as they dismissed the world and there was nothing left but the care that Rowan had for him and the gentle courage of a dying child. Jackson’s eyes shone with trust and love, and Rowan never flinched. Hours passed with the pair of them sustained with stories of India and mythical young princes interspersed with longer and longer silences.
    Finally, Rowan examined his charge again, listening to his chest and then feeling his feet and hands as another wave of restless thrashing passed while Jackson fought to stay. Only when it had passed did Rowan push away for a minute, opening his leather bag to retrieve a small blue glass vial.
    She recognized it as laudanum and put her fingers over her lips to stop a hundred questions from tumbling out. It wasn’t the right time to ask him exactly what he hoped would happen as Jackson began writhing in agony trying to catch his breath. His color had worsened since their arrival, a bluish gray settling in under his eyes and around his lips.
    He’s dying and all I can do is watch!
    Rowan put a palm on Jackson’s chest and waited for the spasm to pass. “Here, drink this and we’ll breathe together and banish this pain, Jackson.”
    The tonic was dutifully consumed, and then it was long minutes where Rowan seemed to almost breathe for him when Jackson couldn’t.
    â€œNo pain,” Rowan whispered.
    Jackson nodded and smiled. “I . . . am . . . invincible.”
    Rowan enfolded his hands around the boys’, trying to warm them one last time. “You are more than that, Jackson Blythe.” Jackson’s eyes closed with a smile lingering on his lips, one last rattling breath giving way to a terrible silence that swallowed hope. “You are so much more.”
    Rowan’s voice cracked a bit and he closed his eyes before releasing the boys’ hands and arranging him in a peaceful repose. He stood stiffly and composed himself. “Bring Mrs. Blythe in. Be quick about it, Miss Renshaw.”
    Gayle rushed to the door, opening it to an almost prostrate Mrs. Blythe, who at a single glance at Gayle’s tearstained cheeks burst into hysterical screams and pushed her way into the room to throw herself