Garrett frowned at his nephew, his cheeks flushing with growing annoyance, but Riordan continued on. “For argument’s sake, let’s say this is true. If all of us accept love here at the table, it will come down to Aidan to break the curse before November. Highly unlikely, considering his state.” A look of sadness haunted Riordan’s features.
“I agree with Riordan,” Julian said. “Everything he said.”
“Riordan, could you find these papers again?” Oliver asked.
“I’ll go to the attic right now.”
“I’ll come with you, Son,” Julian stated.
“Good. In the meantime, Garrett, come with me to the nearby sitting room. I wish to have a private conversation.”
Bloody hell. Garrett stood, and Gordon rushed forward to take his arm. Being a blasted invalid was tedious. Once settled in the sitting room, his father closed the door. “Am I to be lectured, Da?”
“Not as such. But I wanted to relay to you, in private, about Abbie. She never left your side. In fact, she fought off Phillips when he’d mentioned amputation. She applied pressure on your wound for over two hours before Bastian arrived. Then she assisted with the procedure to repair the artery. Barely took a break to eat or sleep. Until…”
He was aware of some of it as he’d drifted in and out of consciousness. Started to believe most of it was a dream. “Until I blathered on nonsensically about the curse. I can hardly be held responsible for maniacal mutterings while caught in a fever nightmare.”
His father sat across from him. “Perhaps, but it affected Abbie regardless. Hell, the curse has affected all of us. When Gordon arrived at Riordan’s to inform us of the shooting. God above, I was desolate. Inconsolable. But Mary Tuttle was there for me. I hope”—his voice softened—“that she always will be. I am in love. I will not deny it. Not for any curse. Life is short, and how much time do I have left? Whatever remains, I aim to live life to the fullest, and love with my full heart. Can you say the same?”
His father’s emotional words cut clear to his soul. A ball of emotion lodged in his throat, making replying difficult. “I love Abbie,” he whispered. “I dismissed what we had because of the curse, relegated the past to a summer dalliance and nothing more. But I was deluding myself. She never left my mind or my heart. Not in all these years. I’ve been a damned fool.” Garrett shook his head sadly. “We have love and passion, but not trust. How can we have a future if she will not trust me?”
“You haven’t given her much reason. I think Abbie understands you were caught in a nightmare state, but it is patently obvious the curse haunts you still. I see a strong, courageous woman who deep down is vulnerable as far as you’re concerned. And you’re vulnerable as well.” His father smiled. “Trust is something you build together, with open communication. You must forego blaming the other. Share your feelings. Be a reliable and steady presence. If you do all this, the trust will build more rapidly.”
“I’ve made a muck of this, haven’t I?”
“No. And yes. But it can be repaired, if you accept love and reject the curse. I know that it scarred you, Son. It has scarred us all. Here is the fork in the road. Choose the right path. Abbie came all this way to see if love still existed. Now it is your turn to make the journey.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Da. I needed to hear this. I will heed what you’ve said.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Oliver called out.
Dr. Faraday entered the room, wearing his long cloak and hat. “Forgive me for interrupting. I am about to take my leave and wished to say goodbye.”
Oliver took his hand and shook it warmly. “I cannot begin to thank you for all you have done. Be sure and send me a bill.”
“There will be no bill, my lord. I owe you for my career. Besides, once word spreads about London that I have saved the life of the son of the Earl of Carnstone, it will garner me more rich patients, and a rise in my standing.”
Oliver laughed.
Garrett stood, and the doctor came to stand before him and held out his hand. “Your recovery is going well, and it is payment enough to see you thriving. Next you are in London, be sure to call on me. Your father has the address. We will share a meal and come to know each other better.”
Garrett clasped his hand and shook it. “I will. I look forward to our next meeting. Thank you, Bastian, for your competent and compassionate care. Your patients are lucky indeed.”
Bastian gave him a broad smile. “Take care, Garrett, and I hope that all works out the way you wish.” He nodded toward Oliver. “My lord.”
Ah. It was obviously not lost on the doctor how quickly Abbie had made an exit. Bastian turned and departed, and Garrett slowly lowered himself into his chair. Hell, he still ached all over, but his heart pained him the worst. Abbie, how could you leave me? The answer was patently obvious. When it came to their hearts, both were wary. Be damned if he would blame her for any of this. How to convince her that he truly wished to place the curse behind him? About time he did.
“I have a gift for you, from Megan.” His father opened the door, talking in a low voice to one of the footmen. Moments later, his father emerged from the hallway holding a leash with a gangly collie at the other end. The dog’s tongue lolled as a canine smile spread across his furry face. He was rambunctious and pulling on the leash. “Meet Laddie.”
He stared at the dog, incredulous, then at his father. “Mine?”
“All Megan’s idea.” His father released the leash and the half-grown puppy ran toward him with an adorably awkward gait.
Garrett petted him. Damn it all, he was touched, completely choked up. “Laddie,” he whispered. The puppy woofed, then licked his hand. The beautiful collie possessed a longish, multicolored coat of gold and brown on top of white. “How on earth…”
“Found him in Sussex. A farmer was displeased with his herding skills—or lack thereof. It was fate. He will make a fine pet and a loyal companion.”
He would, Garrett could tell. He scratched Laddie’s ears and the puppy whimpered dolefully as if grateful for the contact. Megan’s idea. His daughter thought enough of him to suggest it. He leaned down and nuzzled the puppy’s soft neck as he blinked away the few tears welling in his eyes.
Accept love. Forego the curse.
Clinging to the past had done nothing but cause heartache and a lingering loneliness.
Well, he and Abbie had one thing going for them: they both preferred to talk things out and be honest. At least, since they’d reacquainted. None of this grand misunderstanding and sulking in silence bollocks. There was still much to discuss. First, to see that justice be done and ensure Sutherhorne receives it.
* * * *
Abbie wrapped her wool cloak about her as she stared out across the expanse of her small parcel of land. She’d been home for two days and the aching in her heart had not abated. All the way home and the night spent in the inn, she nearly turned back and headed to Wollstonecraft Hall, because a part of her longed to stay and fight. She also realized that she’d done all she could to prove not only did the love still exist, but the curse held no weight.
Garrett had admitted he may have been wrong to allow it to rule his life. He’d pledged to put it behind him, but in the end he had not. The words he’d shouted with such vehemence during his fevered state had struck her as if they were slices from a sharp blade. Logically, she understood he was hallucinating, but it had been convincing enough to have her lay an ultimatum before him. Perhaps he would stubbornly cling to the curse. As it stood now, her thin thread of trust had been shattered, along with her heart. Could both be repaired?
She never should have entered into another physical relationship with the obstinate man. It proved that she had no self-control where Garrett was concerned. All her talk of courting came to nothing in the end. They had managed a couple of days of candy, flowers, and carriage rides before it had imploded.
Megan returned to school in Little Hadham. She’d been subdued on the journey home, offering support but obviously affected by the intense drama they had been swept up in and the turbulent emotions that accompanied it. Megan had grown up a little these past few weeks. She’d stated in a firm voice that she would respect whatever decision Abbie came to. Abbie was indeed thankful for Megan’s quiet strength, as it bolstered and supported her own.
Now she had returned to her lonely life. Truly, she had no close friends, except for Alberta. And from what she surmised of Garrett, neither did he. Outside of their families, it was as if the both of them, after their painful, youthful affair, had retreated and isolated themselves. Was she not doing the exact same thing once again? Withdraw and lick my wounds.
Sighing forlornly, she glanced up at the sky as snow flurries started to fall. The overcast sky matched her melancholy mood. She returned her gaze to the building across the way.
Samuel Jenkins, the Wollstonecraft groom that had accompanied them home, stood in the makeshift stables attending the horses. Abbie could see him from her small porch. When Elwyn passed, she sold the horses and carriage, and since Megan was away at school most of the week, she boarded her daughter’s mare at a nearby farm.