Chapter Twenty-Two.

James touched her shoulders, his fingertips caressing. Soft. "My poor darling."

His voice was gentle, full of compassion.

She melted inside.

His sympathy, his belief, was clearly all for her. He was ever on her side.

Oh, but he didn't know how ill-deserved his faith in her was.

"Tell me." His voice was firm.

Everything within her yearned to spill the whole matter out. She bristled to harden herself against the seductive urge.

He made a tender, comforting sound. "You can tell me anything."

"I can no' tell anyone. Ever."

"You told Meeker?"

"No, I never told him this. I told him everything else but not this."

"But it weighs on you?"

"Aye, it weights heavy on me. I swear it will bear me down and push me into the grave." Yet she wanted to tell him, to let him absorb it all and be the judge. Frightened more than before that she would give in and tell, she shook off his hand.

"I have told you, I can no' tell anyone. Ever!"

She bolted from the bed and fled the chamber. As she ran through the corridors of the house, her chest tightened and she felt she couldn't draw a full breath. Panting frantically, she made her way to the rear staircase and scrambled up the steps to the roof. Heedless of the dark night, she kept running. The stones chilled her feet and the damp went clear to her bones by the time she reached the iron railing. Eyes closed, Sunny leaned over the railing and let the breeze dry the tears that had begun to sting her eyes.

What manner of wife are you?

The words seemed to carry on the wind.

"I was the best wife I could be!"

She shouted the words, only to have the wind suck them away. Tears streamed down her face and her body shook.

The best wife would have adapted. She would have been the kind of wife her husband needed. She would have loved him in the way he needed.

"I tried. I tried!" She hurled the words at the gusts, leaning further over the rail. "It was never good enough. I could never be good enough!"

And it was too late. Freddy was gone.

She could never give him what he needed now.

Her inability to give him what he had needed, in the way he had needed-it had hurt him.

It had killed him.

She put her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the sound of the wind, trying to block the voices that seemed to carry to her on the gusts. But she couldn't.

You killed him!

"No!"

Your selfishness killed him!

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"

Too late! He's gone.

Gone!

Sunny!

Freddy's shout carried over howling of the wind.

"Forgive me!" she cried out, forcing the words past the growing rawness in her throat.

Sunny!

Why wouldn't Freddy leave her in peace?

A sob tore up her throat and her eyes popped open. She stared down the distance to the ground.

Dizziness swirled over her. Unsteady, she lurched forward. The ground seemed to rush up. The sight transfixed her.

An iron band wrapped around her waist. Jerked her backwards. Held her against a solid frame.

She gasped for breath, the harsh pants forcing themselves out as she stared up at the stars swirling against the blue-black night sky.

"Didn't you hear me shouting for you?" James' voice rumbled through her, rattling her bones.

Or had he given her a fierce shake?

She couldn't yet speak. Though her breathing was slowing now. Gradually.

"You would destroy yourself over the likes of Freddy Blayne!" His angry voice boomed over the howl of the wind. He shook her, definitely this time. "Don't tell me you would throw yourself over this railing for love of that feckless coxcomb!"

"What?" Her mind reeled. Tears streamed down her face.

He shook her again. "Answer me! Stop keeping secrets from me!"

"No...no..."

"You dare say no to me? I am the only one here for you!"

She shook her head. "No, I mean don't say those things about Freddy." She gasped the words out between soft pants. "Better he should have survived than me. I was so unworthy of everything he gave me."

"Hush! Never say such a thing in my hearing again."

"I killed him. Killed him!"

"I don't care." James voice was hard, cold. His body had gone rigid.

"Wha..." She began to tremble.

"I tell you that I killed him and you say you don't care?"

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back then bent his face closer to hers. "That's right. I don't care."

"Oh, God! God! What manner of cousin are you?"

He regarded her for a moment, his expression revealing nothing. Then he released her and took off his greatcoat then draped it over her shoulders.

"What manner of man are you?" she demanded.

He pulled the collar of the coat together. "I don't care about Freddy. I don't care about anyone else in this world, not the way I care about you."

"Oh, God." Those were the only words her mind could form.

"No matter what you tell me, Catriona, I will never betray you. I will protect you with my dying breath. That I vow."

His gaze blazed into hers. She believed him.

"Now tell me everything that you have held back. I must know." He cupped her face in his large, strong hands. "If I am to protect you, I must know."

She couldn't resist now. "He-he caught me in an intimate act."

"An intimate act?"

"A most private, solitary one. Do you understand?"

He nodded then caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, still holding her face, forcing her to continue looking at him.

"I-I tried to be discreet about such things, but this time he came into my chamber. He had stopped coming there. I didn't expect him to come there."

"He didn't knock?"

"Well, he was my husband."

"But he was no longer your lover at that point? You shared no physical intimacies."

She shook her head. "No, not by then. He had grown too ill and he...well, he was no longer interested in such games."

"Then he should have respected your privacy."

"I would not have intentionally hurt him, not for all the world. I didn't even hear him enter the chamber, I was so lost to my own imagination. I didn't know until he was standing over my bed." She closed her eyes. Words tumbled from her lips and three years fell away and she was back in her bedchamber.

"What manner of wife are you?" Freddy had hurled the words at her as he leaned over her, so close that his spit had flown into her face.

His eyes! Twin orbs of gray flames, searing into her! Oh heavens, how angry he was!

She didn't know what to say. What possible defense could she give?

Her face flaming with shame, she tried to yank her skirts down.

He seized them, held them in place above her waist. "Let's keep you on display, just as you are. A spread-legged whore with her skirts rucked up."

"Freddy, please, don't..."

"What manner of wife are you?" he repeated, even more angrily this time.

"I am sorry," she said, her voice small, devastated.

"Do you intend to show me just how miserably I have failed as a husband? As a man?" He leaned closer, his nose not an inch from hers. "Is that it?"

"No, no." She bit her lip and swallowed. Tears poured from her eyes. "I never, ever..."

"Shut your mouth! Just shut your mouth!" His eyes blazed hotter, fiercer. "It's not enough that you shame me in public, flirting with mere footmen in my own parlor. My own damned parlor!"

She cringed back against the pillow, her heart thundering against her rib cage. She had never seen him so furious.

Had never seen the look of hate in those beautiful eyes. Hate for her.

Nausea rose in her throat, bitter and hot. She swallowed it back. "I am sorry, Freddy, you must forgive me. It has been three months since my-my misstep. I have been good. I have been a model of respect-"

"You call this respect!"

"It is my own chamber, my own bed."

He scowled. "What manner of woman are you? Are you so driven by passion?"

"You once approved of my passion."

"A wife's passion should be dependent on her husband's. If he needs her, she is happy to comply. If he doesn't need her, not in that manner, then she remains chaste, loving him with a spiritual quality."

She stared at him, shamed beyond all. She had never been a very spiritual person, at least not wholly. She had burned in her lonely bed.

He finally released her and straightened up. "I am going to put you aside, Sunny."

Images of ruin and scandal filled her mind. "Oh no, Freddy, no, please-I'll be good."

"You're still a virgin." He froze. "Aren't you?"