The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [26]
Damnation. He knew he couldn’t ignore it, and thus, when Alex and Sinjun left the house to fetch Sinjun’s wedding gown from Madame Jordan’s, he didn’t put it off. He strode up to Colin’s bedchamber.
Colin was wearing one of his own dressing gowns, thanks to Finkle and several footmen, who had returned to his lodgings and packed all his clothing and brought his two trunks here. He was standing beside the bed, looking toward the door.
“Do you need some assistance?” Douglas asked as he stepped into the room.
“No, thank you. I’m endeavoring to prove that I can walk across this room and back three times without falling on my nose.”
Douglas laughed. “How many times have you done it?”
“Twice, at five-minute intervals. This third time looks to be the death of me though.”
“Sit down, Colin. I must speak to you.”
Colin sat gingerly in a wing chair near the fireplace. He stretched his leg out in front of him, wincing as he did so. He began to gently massage the leg. “You didn’t tell Joan, did you?”
“No, only my wife, although I don’t know why you care if Sinjun knows or not.”
“It would infuriate her and worry her and she wouldn’t stand for it. She would probably hire a Bow Street Runner and the two of them would go haring off to track down the man who did it. She would probably place an advertisement in the Gazette for information leading to his capture. She could hurt herself. She obviously needs to be protected, more from herself than anything else.”
Douglas could but stare at him. “You’ve known her such a short time and yet . . .” He shook his head. “That’s exactly what she’d do. I sometimes feel the good Lord doesn’t know what she plans to do until she does it. She’s very creative, you know.”
“No, but I suspect I’ll learn.”
“You have yet to tell me how you got knifed in the thigh.”
Colin didn’t meet Douglas’s eyes. “It was a little bully who wanted to rob me. I knocked the man down and he pulled a knife from his boot. My thigh was as high as he could reach.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No, but I probably should have, the damned blighter. He wouldn’t have gotten much from me had he succeeded in picking my pocket. I had no more than two guineas with me at the most.”
“I got a letter just a while ago, accusing you of murdering your wife.”
Colin became very still. It was as if, Douglas thought, he had pulled inside himself, away from pain or perhaps guilt? He didn’t know. Colin looked beyond Douglas’s left shoulder toward the fireplace.
“It wasn’t signed. The person who wrote it sent a boy around with it. I don’t like letters like this. They’re poisonous and they leave one feeling foul.”
Colin said nothing.
“No one knew you’d already been married.”
“No. I didn’t think it was anyone’s affair.”
“When did she die?”
“Shortly before my brother died, some six and a half months ago.”
“How?”
Colin felt his guts twist and knot. “She fell off a cliff and broke her neck.”
“Did you push her?”
Colin was silent, a hard silence both deep and angry.
“Were you arguing with her? Did she fall accidentally?”
“I didn’t murder my wife. I won’t murder your sister. I gather the writer of the letter warned you about that.”
“Oh yes.”
“Will you tell Joan?”
Douglas blinked. He still couldn’t accustom himself to Colin’s calling Sinjun Joan. “I must. It would be preferable, naturally, if you told her, perhaps gave her explanations that you’ve not given to me.”
Colin said nothing. He was stiff, wary.
Douglas rose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She is my sister and I love her dearly. I must protect her. It is only fair that she know about this. I do feel, however, that before the two of you marry, this must be resolved. That is something I must demand.”
Colin remained silent. He didn’t look up until Douglas had quietly closed the door behind him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He rubbed his thigh; the stitches itched and the flesh was pink. He was healing nicely.
But was he healing quickly enough?
Who, for God’s sake? Who could have done this? The MacPhersons were the only ones who came to mind, and it was a powerful