Page 83 of Her Wicked Highwayman
When Diana reached the nursery, she set the girl down next to her bed and pulled back the covers. She patted the bed, and Isla crawled into the center of it.
“Will Papa be all right?” Isla asked, those sweet doe eyes so full of trust. This child had known so much darkness, so much loss. How could she ever bear to lose her father?
In an instant, Rafe’s words came back to her like a lightning strike:“I would never fail my child. Never.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “He will get better, I promise.” Though her mind knew it was not a promise she could make, her heart told her that Rafe would not let Isla down. He would break every rule there was to come back to them.
She saw Rafe so clearly now, more clearly than ever before. Her mysterious highwayman, her teasing gentleman, her prayer in the dark to once more find the light. He was as multifaceted as any jewel he’d ever stolen, as beautifully complex as the night sky without a moon to hide the stars.
She brushed a hand through Isla’s soft russet curls and kissed the girl’s head. She froze as she found herself staring at something that nearly stopped her heart.
Two portraits sitting up on a shelf beside the bed came level with Diana’s eyes. Time seemed to stretch outward into aninfinite moment before she snapped back to herself again. Diana sucked in a shocked breath. It wasimpossible. It made no sense.
“Miss Fox?” Isla turned to see what Diana was fixated on.
“Isla, who... who are these people?” Diana asked. She lifted up the set of portraits and sat down on the bed beside the child. Isla crawled over and touched the gilt frames in a familiar way, as though she’d done it a thousand times.
“That’s my mama. Myfirstmama. And this is my other papa,” she whispered. “They died.”
Diana felt her head spin as fractured memories and dreams about mirrors in a world she could not join her family in came crashing in around her. It was as though the mirror in her mind had shattered, sending glass shards in a hundred different directions, and at last she saw the truth she’d been too afraid to face in her dreams.
“Isla, what was your mother’s name?”
The little girl stared at the woman’s portrait with soft, sad eyes. “Papa used to say, ‘Sweet Ellie, love of my life.’”
Diana stared at the woman in the frame. “Ellie... Was that short for Eleanor?”
Isla shrugged. “I dinna ken,” the little girl said.
Diana’s elder sister’s pleasing countenance gaze back at her through layers of oil paint. Eleanor looked young, vibrant, beautiful, andwonderful.
She pointed to the portrait of the handsome young man. “And what was your papa’s name?” She’d never met the man Eleanor had danced with on that fateful night of a long-ago Merton country ball. She’d only known the man had been Scottish and they’d run away a few days later. Eleanor had left a note saying goodbye, saying that someday she’d come home to her family. Only she never had. Diana, brokenhearted though she was, had understood that the house had been too lonely without their mother.
“She called him Angus.”
Diana rubbed her thumb gently over the pair of frames the way Isla had. Eleanor had died... as had her husband. Isla was their daughter.
Isla is my niece.That truth was both sweet and heartbreaking. She’d never wanted to believe her sister was dead, but now she knew for sure. And yet her sister’s daughter had come into her life like a tiny miracle. It was equal parts sad and wondrous.
“Isla.” Her voice broke as she tried to speak. “I think... your mother was my sister.”
The girl stared up at her with surprise, and Diana wondered how she’d been so blind to the truth for so long. Isla was so much like Eleanor. She might favor her father in hair and eye color, but her face, her expressions, they wereentirelyEleanor. The answer to that last painful mystery in her life had been right in front of her all this time.
She replayed every conversation she’d had with Rosalind and Rafe about Isla’s parents. They had died of an illness, and Eleanor... Oh God, Eleanor’s body had been taken to be sold to a doctor, and Rafe and his family had saved Isla from the body snatchers.
She wrapped her arms around Isla and pulled her even closer as tears fell freely down her cheeks. The last bit of her stubborn strength failed her at last, and Diana broke, truly broke as everything she’d held on to since her mother’s death clawed its way to the surface. Isla cried too, and they held each other fast until they both cried themselves out.
“Will ye still be my new mama?” Isla asked in a quiet voice. Diana smiled past her tears.
“Yes... you’ve always beenmine. You are my niece, and now you are my daughter. I will never leave you, sweetheart.” It was likely Isla didn’t fully understand just what Diana had vowed toher, but someday she would. She would learn that destiny had brought Eleanor’s daughter home, because Rafe Lennox’s heart was made of gold.
“How is he?”
Rafe heard his mother’s voice through the fog of pain.
Another voice came through more clearly. “The damage to his back is severe, but I have cleaned and stitched the wounds that pose the greatest danger. The bandages must be kept clean and changed daily to prevent a fever. He will need to sleep on his stomach, and I would recommend a diet of beef to help with the loss of blood. I imagine he will have to rebuild the muscles of his back from the damage done by the whip, but he is young and healthy, so there is every hope he will recover. Once his skin has healed, he should practice his usual movements else his muscles will never regain their strength.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” he heard Ashton say.
