Page 109 of An Unwilling Earl
“Or he knew that he needed to enlarge his hunting grounds so as not to be caught.”
“Such a pity that he wasn’t caught then. All those women would have been saved.”
“O’Leary also wanted me to tell you that they are looking into the death of your uncle, Lord Morris. The fact that he died so suddenly is now suspicious in light of Edmund’s activities.”
“Do they think Edmund killed him?” she asked.
“O’Leary isn’t certain but is leaning toward the belief that Lady Morris killed him. Her hatred of men was fierce. It wouldn’t be beyond comprehension. However, it was more than five years ago, so it might be difficult to prove.”
Charlotte stared down at Jacob. “It means little at this point who killed him.”
“True, but O’Leary would like to know. A family of killers is certainly an oddity.”
“Ah, yes. I come from a family of oddities.”
“How did you do it, Charlotte? How did you survive five years with them?”
She stroked Jacob’s hand and stared at his face. “I never gave up hope that there was something better out there for me.”
Charlotte fell asleep with her head on Jacob’s bed, her hand still holding his.
She dreamed of the Crystal Palace.
She and Jacob were strolling through the exhibits when they became separated. She ran through the palace, calling for him, but he was nowhere to be found, and there was no one to help. She was all alone.
All alone.
And Jacob was gone.
Tears seeped out of her eyes and made the mattress wet beneath her cheek. He had risked everything for her. Just like her mother had done for her father. Finally, she had the love that she’d always wanted, a love that transcended everything, and just like her parents, she might lose it all.
She felt a movement at her head and swatted it away.
Something ruffled her hair, and she swatted at it again, lifting her head and wiping her weeping eyes.
When she focused she found Jacob in the same position he’d been in for days, but his eyes were open, and he was looking at her.
“Jacob?”I’m not still dreaming, am I?
She touched his cheek and smiled through her tears. “You’re awake.”
He grasped her hand, and she openly cried. She had told Armbruster that she had never given up hope that there was a better life for her, but she hadn’t told him that the hope had slowly been seeping away.
“How long have I been asleep?” His voice was raspy, but to her it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. He was awake. He was alive. She wanted to laugh, and cry, and hug him.
“Three days. I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone.”
He opened his arms. “Come here.”
Careful of the wound in his side, she climbed onto the bed and fit her body into his uninjured side. It felt so good to feel his arm around her, his warmth surrounding her.
“Is Edmund dead?” he asked.
“Yes. You stepped in front of the knife, Jacob. Why?”
“Because I love you, Charlotte, and I would risk anything to save you.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, and more tears came. An endless supply of tears lately, but these were tears of happiness and relief.
