abominable life inside her have survived..."
It was Caroline's turn to shiver. "I imagine the poor babe died on impact as well...Gwynneth, are you ill?"
A visible tremor had seized Gwynneth, yet her focus stayed on the terrace, her words sounding slurred as she spoke through chattering teeth. "'Tis but a chill. 'Twill soon be over. Everything...will soon be over..."
"Gwynneth!" Caroline shook her arm. "Gwynneth, look at me. Let go the parapet, why do you cling so? Look at me!" She wrenched one of Gwynneth's hands loose. Slowly, Gwynneth turned to face her.
"God's blood--Lord Neville!" Caroline cried out. "Come quickly!"
Both men came on a run. At the sight of Gwynneth's glassy eyes and sickly pallor, Thorne seized her icy hands and rubbed them between his. "Christ, sweeting, what's the matter?"
His hands went still as Gwynneth's blue-tinged lips curved into a slow smile, at once seductive and contemptuous.
Caroline gasped, lurching backward into Townsend.
The ghastly smile thinned to a grim slash as Gwynneth's eyes acquired a sulphurous hue. She curled her lip at Thorne. "You were a coward to leave, " she rasped in a voice not her own. "Better our child should die, than to know its father was less than a man ."
Caroline screamed and Townsend shouted as Thorne was suddenly straining to pull Gwynneth off the parapet. One leg up, foot braced against the wall, she seemed to try with all her might to climb up and over the crenel.
As Townsend joined Thorne's efforts, Gwynneth fought them off like a she-cat. Most terrifying of all was that she uttered no sound during her struggle, but only stared with savage ferocity at Thorne.
"Townsend, leave off, she's tiring!" Thorne held Gwynneth fast, looking stunned at her tenacious strength.
Townsend let go, wide-eyed. "What the devil ails her, has she gone mad?" He retreated to join Caroline, who had flattened herself against the parapet.
"Be still, Gwynneth," Thorne soothed, with a withering glance at Townsend. "That's it, sweeting. Breathe now. Deeply, slowly...speak to me when you can."
Panting for air, she looked suddenly dazed, then went limp in his arms.
"She's fainted." Relief flooded Thorne's voice; this he could handle. "Caroline, pull yourself together and find my housekeeper. Tell her to send for the doctor immediately, and have Bridey hurry tea." Lifting Gwynneth, he winced as Caroline rushed toward the tower door. "Take the lantern and leave it at the bottom of the steps for Townsend to fetch so he can bring us down--and for God's sake, Caroline, tread slowly!"
Once out of the keep and through the steward's office, Caroline took the east hall on a run, Lord Neville's terse baritone echoing inside her head.
Caroline, pull yourself together....for God's sake, Caroline, tread slowly!
Even in her heart-pounding haste to reach Dame Carswell's office, Caroline smiled.
Thorne Neville had used her Christian name.
* * *
"She simply fainted," Thorne told John Hodges before anyone could say otherwise. "We were atop the tower, and the height must have made her dizzy."
"When did she last eat?"
"Late this morning."
"Has she fainted before in your company?"
Thorne gave the doctor a wry look. "She has not."
"The morrow is your wedding, mightn't it be nerves?"
"Possible, but not probable. She seems quite prepared."
The doctor lowered his voice. "Is there any chance at all...what I mean to say is, might she be...with child?"
"Hodges!"
"Forgive me, but I'm obliged to ask."
"No, she is not with child."
"Very well. Now, if you'll kindly go and disperse her attendants, I shall examine the young lady."
Gathering Radleigh, Townsend and Caroline, Thorne took them from the study out into the gallery, where they could hear only the faint drone of Hodges' voice through the heavy door.
"What happened up there?" Townsend burst out.
"I was a fool, is what happened," Thorne said hastily, with a glance at Radleigh. "I told her that accursed story of my aunt, and she
It was Caroline's turn to shiver. "I imagine the poor babe died on impact as well...Gwynneth, are you ill?"
A visible tremor had seized Gwynneth, yet her focus stayed on the terrace, her words sounding slurred as she spoke through chattering teeth. "'Tis but a chill. 'Twill soon be over. Everything...will soon be over..."
"Gwynneth!" Caroline shook her arm. "Gwynneth, look at me. Let go the parapet, why do you cling so? Look at me!" She wrenched one of Gwynneth's hands loose. Slowly, Gwynneth turned to face her.
"God's blood--Lord Neville!" Caroline cried out. "Come quickly!"
Both men came on a run. At the sight of Gwynneth's glassy eyes and sickly pallor, Thorne seized her icy hands and rubbed them between his. "Christ, sweeting, what's the matter?"
His hands went still as Gwynneth's blue-tinged lips curved into a slow smile, at once seductive and contemptuous.
Caroline gasped, lurching backward into Townsend.
The ghastly smile thinned to a grim slash as Gwynneth's eyes acquired a sulphurous hue. She curled her lip at Thorne. "You were a coward to leave, " she rasped in a voice not her own. "Better our child should die, than to know its father was less than a man ."
Caroline screamed and Townsend shouted as Thorne was suddenly straining to pull Gwynneth off the parapet. One leg up, foot braced against the wall, she seemed to try with all her might to climb up and over the crenel.
As Townsend joined Thorne's efforts, Gwynneth fought them off like a she-cat. Most terrifying of all was that she uttered no sound during her struggle, but only stared with savage ferocity at Thorne.
"Townsend, leave off, she's tiring!" Thorne held Gwynneth fast, looking stunned at her tenacious strength.
Townsend let go, wide-eyed. "What the devil ails her, has she gone mad?" He retreated to join Caroline, who had flattened herself against the parapet.
"Be still, Gwynneth," Thorne soothed, with a withering glance at Townsend. "That's it, sweeting. Breathe now. Deeply, slowly...speak to me when you can."
Panting for air, she looked suddenly dazed, then went limp in his arms.
"She's fainted." Relief flooded Thorne's voice; this he could handle. "Caroline, pull yourself together and find my housekeeper. Tell her to send for the doctor immediately, and have Bridey hurry tea." Lifting Gwynneth, he winced as Caroline rushed toward the tower door. "Take the lantern and leave it at the bottom of the steps for Townsend to fetch so he can bring us down--and for God's sake, Caroline, tread slowly!"
Once out of the keep and through the steward's office, Caroline took the east hall on a run, Lord Neville's terse baritone echoing inside her head.
Caroline, pull yourself together....for God's sake, Caroline, tread slowly!
Even in her heart-pounding haste to reach Dame Carswell's office, Caroline smiled.
Thorne Neville had used her Christian name.
* * *
"She simply fainted," Thorne told John Hodges before anyone could say otherwise. "We were atop the tower, and the height must have made her dizzy."
"When did she last eat?"
"Late this morning."
"Has she fainted before in your company?"
Thorne gave the doctor a wry look. "She has not."
"The morrow is your wedding, mightn't it be nerves?"
"Possible, but not probable. She seems quite prepared."
The doctor lowered his voice. "Is there any chance at all...what I mean to say is, might she be...with child?"
"Hodges!"
"Forgive me, but I'm obliged to ask."
"No, she is not with child."
"Very well. Now, if you'll kindly go and disperse her attendants, I shall examine the young lady."
Gathering Radleigh, Townsend and Caroline, Thorne took them from the study out into the gallery, where they could hear only the faint drone of Hodges' voice through the heavy door.
"What happened up there?" Townsend burst out.
"I was a fool, is what happened," Thorne said hastily, with a glance at Radleigh. "I told her that accursed story of my aunt, and she
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