A Momentary Marriage(102)

James’s head snapped toward him. “Accident? What other accident?”

“You never told him?” Graeme asked Laura, ignoring the elbow Abigail dug into his side.

“No. She never told me.” James shot a short, sharp glance at Laura, then fixed his gaze on Graeme. “I repeat, what other accident?”

“It was while you were ill. It was nothing, just an accident,” Laura said soothingly.

“The horses bolted, and the victoria’s brake slipper failed on the hill down to the castle,” Graeme explained.

“You were in the carriage when Littletree crashed it?” James surged to his feet. He stared down at Laura.

“Yes, but I wasn’t hurt.” Laura rose to her feet to face him. Something more was roiling beneath James’s surface than mere surprise, and she sought for words to reassure him, but could only repeat lamely, “It was only an accident.” She looked toward Graeme for help.

But Graeme, his face furrowed and arms crossed over his chest, provided none. Instead he said, “Two separate accidents seems unusual, especially given . . . the rest of it.” He glanced significantly at James.

Laura stared at Graeme. “But why would anyone—” She swung toward James. “You don’t really think—”

“I think that I have been a fool.” James’s face blazed with fury. “Why didn’t I realize?” He swung around, searching the room. He focused on Adelaide, standing a few feet away, and growled, “Where is he?”

Adelaide stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. Laura, guessing his intent, jumped up and reached out to grab his arm, but James was already gone. Shoving past the knot of people around them, he charged out of the room.

“Graeme! Why did you tell him that now?” Laura threw an angry glance at Graeme and ran after her husband. James was already heading up the stairs, shouting, “Claude!”

There was no answer, but James did not pause. Laura lifted her skirts and ran after him. Graeme passed her, taking the steps two at a time, and Walter pelted after him, but James had too great a lead on all of them. As Laura reached the top of the stairs, she saw the door to Claude’s bedroom open, and he stepped out, scowling.

“What the—”

James barreled into his brother, knocking him down, and began to pummel him. Graeme and Walter reached the struggling pair and grabbed James’s arms, hauling him up. Claude lashed out, hitting James, and Walter threw himself between them. Walter warded off Claude as Graeme wrapped his arms around James, struggling to hold him back. Mr. Netherly and two other men helped pull the two men several feet apart.

“Let go.” James shook off Graeme’s hold. “I’m not going to kill him. Not yet.”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Claude glared at his brother.

“What do you think is the matter?” James returned hotly. “You tried to murder her. It’s one thing to go after me, but when you try to hurt Laura—”

Claude stared. “What are you talking about?”

“An urn fell from the balcony, almost hit Laura,” Walter explained.

“What?” Claude’s eyebrows shot up and he turned his head, looking past the men to where Laura and the other women of the family were clustered. His face closed down and he turned back to James, saying bitterly, “So of course you decided it was me.”

“Who else would it be?” James retorted. “Bloody huge stone urns don’t just slip off the balcony. It was pushed.”

“Now, James, you don’t know that,” Graeme began reasonably.

“I know.” James glared at his brother. “He knows. I’m telling you, Claude, this stops. Now. If anything happens to her, I will kill you.”

“James . . .” Walter began nervously.

“Stay out of it, Walter.”

“James, calm down,” Graeme urged. “You don’t mean that.”

“The hell I don’t.” James turned to Graeme. “Don’t you understand? He tried to kill Laura. Twice. You think I could possibly ignore that?” He swung back to Claude. “I should have gotten rid of you as soon as I recovered. I foolishly hoped it was someone else, not my own brother, who wanted me dead.”

“I’ve wanted you dead a hundred times,” Claude shot back. “But you’re daft if you think I ever tried to kill you. And why in the bloody blue blazes would I pitch an urn down on your wife?”

“Because she stands in your way!”

The corridor went deathly quiet. It was Graeme who broke the silence. “James, this is absurd. Stop and think. You have no proof.”