Page 44 of The Butterfly
He looked to Daphne, but she had eyes only for Adam, the horror she felt at his declaration written all over her face. “Adam …”
“He’s seen Serena,” Adam said to Niall, ignoring Daphne completely. “He knows she is his and is threatening to force us before a judge to have her taken from us. He’ll expose Olivia’s condition and take Serena unless we pay him fifty thousand pounds … well, sixty thousand now, thanks to you.”
Despite having known it all along, Niall still could not believe his ears. “Surely, ye don’t mean to pay it?”
“No,” Adam replied. “Because I am going to kill him, just like I said.”
Then, turning to face Daphne, he glared down at her, fists tightening and eyes blazing.
“Andno onewill convince me otherwise.”
Without another word, he was gone, long legs eating up the distance between the garden and the house. Everything about his posture declared he was in no mood to argue—stiff shoulders, rigid back, clenched fists. Fool that she was, Lady Daphne took it upon herself to go after him.
“Adam … Adam, wait!”
Niall watched them go, his hand throbbing like the devil, his head spinning from all that had just happened.
Bertram had appeared out of nowhere and upended their lives with his little extortion plot—endangering both Olivia and Serena in the process. Just thinking of it made him regret that he’d allowed himself to be stopped. It would not matter if he hung for killing the bastard. Niall had been born no one, and would die no one. If he were going to face death, he would gladly do so knowing he’d destroyed the one thing with the power to hurt them, the one person responsible for their misery or pain.
Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, cranking his neck side to side to loosen the tense muscles. He was beginning to feel more himself, bringing his turbulent emotions under control. It would not do to go back to Olivia in such a state. Bad enough he would have to explain the state of his knuckles, though he would hope she’d understand and perhaps even thank him for what he’d done.
When he opened his eyes again, he was confronted with Serena, who still stood in the garden with him … neglected in all the chaos. She sucked in short, ragged breaths between hiccups, tears wetting her cherubic cheeks.
Shame flushed his face at the fear in her wide eyes, the way she trembled as he approached. If he’d been thinking at all, he might not have acted the barbarian with her looking on. It would have been better to come out here, pick her up and carry her inside, allowing Adam and Daphne to tend to the matter of Bertram. But he had not been thinking, and now, she was terrified of him.
He knelt before her, retrieving his handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face. “C’mon,a bhobain,let’s get ye inside.”
Taking her hand, he attempted to pull her toward him, but she yanked away with a shake of her head as a fresh flow of tears began. He did not think he’d ever loathed himself more.
“Serena, I’m sorry,” he said, gentling his voice as best he could. “That man … he was a very bad man. He could have hurt yer maw, and I couldnae let that happen. Do ye understand? I’d never hurt ye, or yer maw. I love ye both too much.”
She eyed him warily, chubby fingers wrapped up in the skirt of her gown. “What about Lady Daphne? Would you hurt her?”
Niall sighed, wondering if even this child could see the disdain he’d felt toward the Fairchild chit. Was he so easy to read, so naked in his emotions?
His answer came easily as he recalled Daphne helping nurse Olivia during her period of withdrawal, putting her fingers to those harp strings, doing what she could to make up for the abominable behavior of her family.
“Of course not,a bhobain.I’d never hurt an innocent … only bad men like that one who just left. Ye’re my little love, aren’t ye? Ye know how batty I am about ye.”
Her lips shifted into a little smirk, causing a dimple to appear in her cheek. It wasn’t her radiant smile, but it was a start.
“I’m tired,” she declared, coming closer and throwing herself against him.
He took her up with one arm, holding her close while she tucked her face against his neck. “Let’s get ye to yer room for a nap. After ye wake up, I’ll take ye to yer maw.”
She nodded her agreement, then wrapped her arms around him, holding fast. He sighed with relief, bringing his hand up against her back in reassurance. Apparently, it would take more than one little outburst to make her stop trusting him. He had frightened her, but hadn’t lost her love, and that was all that mattered to him.
After they’d entered the house, they encountered Maeve coming from upstairs. She paused on the landing, gaze curious as she glanced toward the closed door of the nearest drawing room. Behind it, Adam’s voice thundered and roared, interspersed with the sound of breaking glass and what might be a piece of furniture being overturned. Daphne argued in lower, though no less determined tones.
Niall raised his eyebrows at Maeve, who gazed at him with a silent question in her eyes.
“A long story,” he told her. “I’ll tell ye about it later. For now, would ye take her to her room? She needs a nap, and I must look in on Livvie.”
“Of course,” the maid replied, coming forward to take Serena from his arms. “I do hope everything is all right.”
He wanted to reassure Maeve that it would be, but the words died on his tongue. If he spoke them, they might turn out to be a lie.
“Send for me when she wakes,” he said, kissing the top of Serena’s head before turning to head upstairs.
