The Wild Child (42 page)

He felt a flicker of response, and knew that Kyle understood what Dominic was unable to put into words. Clearly his brother could not bear to say more about a wound that was still so raw—but then, what more needed to be said? A single terse sentence contained a whole tragedy. Dominic took a deep breath. Kyle had revealed his own vulnerability, and Dominic could do no less. He yearned to tell his brother the story of Waterloo—the pain and fear and craziness. Enough time had passed that he could speak clearly of the experience that had changed his life, and left him adrift for so many years.

Talk was the best way to build bridges, and they had a lot of building to do.
Chapter 40

Impatiently Meriel watched in the direction where Dominic and his brother had vanished. She half expected them to beat each other to a bloody pulp, so it was a great relief when they finally reappeared. Obviously they had resolved their differences—she could see it in the relaxed way they moved, and in the way Dominic laughed and Lord Maxwell clapped him on the back. They both looked younger and much happier. She might actually come to like Maxwell, if he didn’t trouble Dominic again. As Maxwell paused at the spit to collect a plate of sliced beef from the cook, Dominic appeared beside Meriel, putting an arm around her waist for a surreptitious squeeze. “You’re holding up well,” he said cheerfully. “Not much longer.”

“Good. I shall be ready to retire.” Meriel glanced up at him through her lashes. “I’m glad you and your brother have made your peace.”

“So am I. We talked out almost twenty years’ worth of misunderstandings.” His arm tightened around her. “Oddly enough, I think maybe it’s for the best that we went our separate ways for so long. We’ve each grown in our own fashion, and now we can just accept each other as we are. He doesn’t have to dominate, and I don’t need to rebel.”

Meriel doubted that she would ever understand the subtleties of being a twin, but no matter. Dominic was happy, and that was enough.

Finally it was growing dark, and everyone in the parish had apparently eaten enough, drunk enough, and danced enough. The last event was the bonfire. It was heralded when Lord Grahame crossed to the head-high pile of wood and boomed, “It’s time to light the Midsummer fire, and may it blaze through the shortest night of the year in honor of the marriage of Dominic and Lady Meriel!”

Her uncle was carrying a massive, brass-headed cane, and he waved it in the air for emphasis. He claimed to have twisted his ankle, though Meriel suspected that he’d been so angry when she showed up with Dominic and the Ameses that he’d gone upstairs and kicked the wardrobe, bruising his foot. He’d behaved impeccably ever since, so she supposed he was entitled to one fit of temper. As the crowd gathered, Dominic murmured, “Wait here a moment. I want to escort Kyle over to my father and sister, so that they can see we’re civil again.”

Meriel nodded, glad to avoid the family reunion. It would take time for Dominic to make his way back to her, but she was comfortable even without him by her side. These were her people, and she could feel their goodwill.

Kerr, the steward, struck a spark to ignite Lord Grahame’s torch. Her uncle turned toward her and called, “Meriel, will you set the Midsummer fire?”

She repressed a shiver. Bonfires had never appealed to her—they reminded her too much of how her parents had died. “Please do the honors, Uncle.”

Grahame swung around and hurled his torch into the waiting wood. Flammable materials had been stuffed into cracks, so the fire caught instantly. As flames shot into the air, screams of excitement rose from the crowd.

Meriel froze, feeling as if she had been clubbed. The arch of her uncle’s body as he flung the torch, the flames, the screams… terror lanced through her, swift and violent as lightning. Consumed by panic, she whirled and cut through the crowd, flying toward the safety of the night. She emerged by the path that ran up Castle Hill, so she darted into it, stumbling over stones and roots as she climbed toward the ruins.

She reached the castle’s inner bailey before a stitch in her side forced her to stop. Gasping for breath, she folded onto the grass and pressed her hand to her side as she tried to make sense of the fear coursing through her. Images from her nightmares churned through her mind—scenes of fire and fear and evil, and the dark man who threw the first torch. Screams of menace, cries of desperation from those trapped in the flames.

And… Kamal? He was there, too, younger, less lined, but unmistakable. Far below, she could see the blazing fire and the people gathered around it, heedless of her private torment. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, and grimly forced herself to seek the truth buried in her nightmare.

Wrexham and Lucia were delighted to see Kyle, especially since he and Dominic were obviously on easy terms again. Leaving his brother with the rest of the family, Dominic headed back to Meriel. He was still some distance away when he saw her suddenly dart from the bonfire. He frowned, wondering if the press of people had finally become too much for her. Concerned, he worked his way through the laughing villagers. It was time to take his wife home.

Traces of the long twilight lingered in the sky, and an orange gibbous moon cast light as well. Even so, he had to pick his steps cautiously as he followed her up Castle Hill. Knowing the ground so well, Meriel had probably gone this way at full speed. At least she wore a light-colored dress, so he should be able to find her in the dark.

He was beginning to wonder if she might have left the path and returned to the house when he entered the old castle precinct, and saw a ghostly figure crumpled on the ground. Hastening to her, he asked,

“Meriel, is something wrong?”

She looked up at him, her face deathly pale in the moonlight. He knelt and put his arms around her.

“What happened?”

Trembling violently, she buried her face against him, radiating fear. Wondering what could cause such a reaction, he asked, “Were you assaulted?”

“N-no.” Her voice was barely audible. “I was… remembering.”

A chill ran through him as he realized what must be in her mind. “Did the bonfire and the shouting remind you of the night your parents died?”

Instead of answering, she lurched to her feet and crossed to the ancient stone steps that ran up to the parapet. Alarmed, Dominic followed, staying within an arm’s length. When she went to the battlements, he almost dragged her back.

Bracing her hands on the stone, she stared starkly into the darkness. “The moon was like tonight’s. I was on a balcony like this, looking out at the stars and afraid my nurse would come and take me back to bed. The main section of the palace was there.” She gestured to the right. “Alwari wasn’t heavily fortified, for it was not the chief royal residence. The maharajah’s capital city was two days farther north, but he’d given my father permission to stay at Alwari to honor the British emissary.”

Quietly he asked, “Did you see the raiders attack?”

Her posture was rigid, and he guessed that she was seeing India rather than the quiet Shropshire night.

“They galloped in like thunder, shouting and waving torches. There were dozens and dozens—an army of savages, firing guns and waving spears. They overwhelmed my father’s escort, which was small because we were supposed to be in safe territory. Our people were caught completely off guard.”

She took a ragged breath. “One raider was dressed all in black, his face covered except for his eyes. He was not the leader, but he threw the first torch. It was the dry season, and the roof caught fire and blazed up like tinder. The dark man was mad, I think, perhaps sworn to destroy the foreigners, for he rode his screaming horse right into the palace. I did not see him come out again.”

She was shivering. He put his arm around her shoulders, wanting to anchor her to the present. “So you saw it all happen.”

She pulled at her braid, her fingers kneading frantically. “As people fled the fire, they were cut down by swords and spears. Every one of them. There was a sweet old man who had brought me sherbet. His…

his head was cut off, and one of the raiders used the butt of his spear to knock it across the courtyard.”

“Dear God,” he whispered. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to remember this slaughter. What a horror for a child. For anyone. “Did you see your parents?”

She shook her head. “Their rooms were right under where the roof caught fire. I… I hope they died swiftly from the smoke.”

That would have been a mercy, if true. “How the devil did you escape?”

“I was terrified of the fire, but I was also too frightened to jump. The courtyard was so far down, and filled with those brutes. I huddled into a ball, shrieking, afraid I’d be spitted like a pig on someone’s spear,” she said haltingly. “Then my nurse, Hiral, staggered up behind me. She… her robe was on fire. She shouted into the night, and a rider just below the balcony reined in his horse and looked up.

“It was the strangest thing. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. I… I think the man was shocked to see a burning woman and a child there.” Meriel began to weep. “Hiral screamed something that made the hair on my head stand up. Then… then she picked me up and threw me over the railing.”

“Jesus Christ.” He caught her to him, shaking as badly as she at the vivid horror she had described. “The raider caught you?”

“I… I think he must have,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I was falling, and then I slammed to a halt. The next I remember is being carried across a horse, a man’s hand on my back, feeling as if my bones would jolt from my skin.”

He enfolded her, desperately wishing he could take her pain away. “You’re safe now, love, you’re safe. It’s all over.”

“But it isn’t,” she whispered. “It isn’t”

Ravenous from his long ride, Kyle was attacking the excellent food when Lucia settled next to him in a flurry of skirts. “Have you and Dominic truly settled your differences, or were you just pretending for the sake of Papa and me?”

He washed down a mouthful of beef and bread. “We really did, Lucia. You deserve the credit for making me listen when I didn’t want to.”

She exhaled with relief. “I’m so glad. Do you think this will last?”

“Yes. We both want peace, and there no longer seems anything to fight about.” Beyond that, Kyle felt as if Constancia’s death had changed him in some fundamental manner, freeing him in ways he did not yet fully understand.

“The two of you could not have presented me with a better wedding gift.” Smiling, Lucia gave him a quick hug, then went to join the revelers surrounding the bonfire.

Kyle was about to carve off another piece of beef when he paused, knife in the air. Something was wrong, and it concerned Dominic. Danger? A chill went through him. Uneasily he got to his feet and scanned the crowd, but even when he climbed on the bench for a better view, he couldn’t find Dominic. When was the last time he’d seen him? Vaguely he remembered Lady Meriel leaving the crowd, followed shortly thereafter by Dominic. Kyle had guessed that the newlyweds intended a private celebration. There could be no danger in that, not inside a walled private park. Could someone else have gone off that way? Perhaps a thief had entered Warfield along with the villagers, and waited to catch one of the gentry alone for a robbery. Nonsense. His imagination was running riot. He climbed down from the bench and reached for his tankard, then halted. His uneasiness was growing stronger. There weren’t likely to be any criminals nearby, but Dominic and Meriel had been heading toward the old castle, a place that must have dangerous crumbling stones.

Abandoning his dinner, he skirted the crowd and went to the foot of the path that ran up to the castle. He might embarrass them all by finding Dominic and Meriel in an intimate moment, but he could not ignore the hum of warning in the back of his mind.

He had just reached the path when a tall, dark shape materialized beside him. It was Kamal. The Indian asked, “Is something amiss, my lord?”

Kyle shrugged, a little embarrassed. “It’s probably foolish, but I’ve been feeling some concern for my brother.”

“Oddly, I have also felt concern for Lady Meriel. Perhaps we should investigate together.” Despite the softness of Kamal’s voice, it was not a request.

As they headed up the hill, Kyle decided that perhaps an ally might be useful. Dominic looked down at Meriel, trying to read her expression in near-darkness. “What do you mean, it isn’t over?”

She swallowed. “The argument I remembered about babies? It was between my father and my uncle. I overheard them at Cambay a few days before we left the cantonment. I… I think my father was breaking the news that my mother had conceived again, and of course if she had a boy, his brother would no longer be the heir.”

Dominic sucked in his breath. “And Grahame was angry, even though he had to have known it was a possibility.”

Meriel rubbed her temple with stiff fingers. “I wasn’t born until my parents had been married for years. More years had passed, so another child must have been a great shock to my uncle. He exploded, shouting that he had borrowed money on his expectations, and what would he do now?

“My father said he’d settle the debts this once but not again, so my uncle must learn to live within his income. My uncle swore, then apologized, saying he’d be more careful, since he was no longer sure of inheriting the earldom. But he was so furious. I… I keep wondering if he might have had something to do with the massacre.”

Dominic was about to say that was unlikely when a cold voice cut through the night. “So you remembered. I was afraid of that as soon as you started talking again.”

A dark form took shape and weight in the night as Grahame mounted the last of the stone steps. He halted, cane in hand, and regarded Meriel thoughtfully. “I assumed that you died at Alwari. It was quite a shock when you reappeared, but as long as you were mad and mute, I could afford to let you live.” Idly he drew the cane through his fingers. “It really would have been much better for you to have stayed mad.”

There was death in that cool, casual voice. Instinctively stalling for time, Dominic released Meriel and edged between her and her uncle. “Did you really arrange that raid?”