excuse that you’d understand, not one that even makes sense to me.” That smile he remembered so well, faintly tilted her lips, but her once sparkling eyes were darkened and filled with pain. ”I should have been honest at the time, and then I found out I was sick.” Her breath wheezed from her lungs. “I waited as long as I could. I’m selfish. Always have been, and I only got such a short time. You have all the rest, Jason. All the rest. Please don’t be angry with me. It would, after all, be wasted on a dying woman.”
How could he argue with that? Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and walked to her. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, picking up her frail hand. The cloying scent of sickness wrapped around him.
…dying woman…
“I’ll send for another physician,” he said, wondering who and how quickly they could arrive.
The edges of her mouth tightened and her eyes slid closed even as her hand tightened on his with surprising strength. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her bony knuckles.
Finally, her eyes slid open. “Jason. So strong, so right, so damn honorable and…and…good.” Her sigh caught on a moan. “I’m dying. There’s nothing anyone can do. Not even you.”
“But—”
She shook her head. Her eyes widening, the glaze in them sharpening away as she focused on him. “I want you to promise me something, Jason. Promise.”
He frowned. “You know I’ve never agreed to just anything, Izzy .” He tried to lighten the words with a smile, but she didn’t return it or his jesting words. He squeezed her hand. “What is it you ask of me?”
“I ask that you treat her right. If you claim her or not, that is your wish. If you raise her as your ward, that is your wish. Just love her, please?”
He nodded.
Still looking at him, she said, “And I want you to go. Her things are already packed. I don’t want either of you here at the end,” her words trailed off into another gasp.
“I’m not leaving you now, Izzy .”
“Yes, you will. Because I asked it of you, and for our child. Your child. I don’t want her to be here at the end, or to chance sneaking in. That wouldn’t be good for her, Jason.” She coughed again. “Joy is your daughter.”
A child. Bloody hell.
His child.
“ Isobelle .”
Her eyes glared at him. “Don’t argue with me. I’m tired and I hurt and more than any-anything. I want…” She stopped, tried to draw another breath, her face pale. “I want a chance to tell her goodbye before I take m-my…” Her mouth tightened and a gargling cough racked her body.
Helplessness slithered through him and he realized there was not a damn thing he could do except do as she asked.
“My medicine,” she finished.
He sighed and smiled, brushed his hand across her cheek and forehead. “What am I to do with her?”
Laughter danced momentarily in her eyes before pain stole it away. “You’ll know, Jason. There’s never been a man I’ve had more faith in than you.” She squeezed his hand. “You’ll make a wonderful father, I know it. Now p-pr-promise me.”
How could he deny her? His heart sank heavy in his chest, but he nodded.
“Anything you want, Izzy .”
Chapter Four
Emily stood on the curb of Number Five Upper Brook Street. The marquess ’ carriage was caught in traffic several blocks over. A wagon of overturned goods had blocked the carriage’s path, littering the street, a few barrels broken, produce scattered out, heating and rotting on the cobbles. She’d quietly asked for directions to Upper Brook Street from a gentleman standing near her carriage window. When she realized it was only two blocks over, she quickly alighted from the carriage and gathered her single valise to her.
Darnlin , the driver, tried to talk her out of it, but she told him her relatives just lived a couple of blocks over and left him to deal with whatever he dealt with.
The early afternoon sun shone weakly through the overcast day. England always
How could he argue with that? Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and walked to her. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, picking up her frail hand. The cloying scent of sickness wrapped around him.
…dying woman…
“I’ll send for another physician,” he said, wondering who and how quickly they could arrive.
The edges of her mouth tightened and her eyes slid closed even as her hand tightened on his with surprising strength. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her bony knuckles.
Finally, her eyes slid open. “Jason. So strong, so right, so damn honorable and…and…good.” Her sigh caught on a moan. “I’m dying. There’s nothing anyone can do. Not even you.”
“But—”
She shook her head. Her eyes widening, the glaze in them sharpening away as she focused on him. “I want you to promise me something, Jason. Promise.”
He frowned. “You know I’ve never agreed to just anything, Izzy .” He tried to lighten the words with a smile, but she didn’t return it or his jesting words. He squeezed her hand. “What is it you ask of me?”
“I ask that you treat her right. If you claim her or not, that is your wish. If you raise her as your ward, that is your wish. Just love her, please?”
He nodded.
Still looking at him, she said, “And I want you to go. Her things are already packed. I don’t want either of you here at the end,” her words trailed off into another gasp.
“I’m not leaving you now, Izzy .”
“Yes, you will. Because I asked it of you, and for our child. Your child. I don’t want her to be here at the end, or to chance sneaking in. That wouldn’t be good for her, Jason.” She coughed again. “Joy is your daughter.”
A child. Bloody hell.
His child.
“ Isobelle .”
Her eyes glared at him. “Don’t argue with me. I’m tired and I hurt and more than any-anything. I want…” She stopped, tried to draw another breath, her face pale. “I want a chance to tell her goodbye before I take m-my…” Her mouth tightened and a gargling cough racked her body.
Helplessness slithered through him and he realized there was not a damn thing he could do except do as she asked.
“My medicine,” she finished.
He sighed and smiled, brushed his hand across her cheek and forehead. “What am I to do with her?”
Laughter danced momentarily in her eyes before pain stole it away. “You’ll know, Jason. There’s never been a man I’ve had more faith in than you.” She squeezed his hand. “You’ll make a wonderful father, I know it. Now p-pr-promise me.”
How could he deny her? His heart sank heavy in his chest, but he nodded.
“Anything you want, Izzy .”
Chapter Four
Emily stood on the curb of Number Five Upper Brook Street. The marquess ’ carriage was caught in traffic several blocks over. A wagon of overturned goods had blocked the carriage’s path, littering the street, a few barrels broken, produce scattered out, heating and rotting on the cobbles. She’d quietly asked for directions to Upper Brook Street from a gentleman standing near her carriage window. When she realized it was only two blocks over, she quickly alighted from the carriage and gathered her single valise to her.
Darnlin , the driver, tried to talk her out of it, but she told him her relatives just lived a couple of blocks over and left him to deal with whatever he dealt with.
The early afternoon sun shone weakly through the overcast day. England always
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