Page 33 of Dark Embrace
Killian took another step toward her, but Sarah shook her head and stumbled back. If he touched her now, she would break, shatter, and she would never be able to knit the jagged pieces backtogether.
“How did he take his opium? Laudanum? Some other tincture? A pipe?” heasked.
“I don’t know. He took it privately. Ineversaw.”
“And after he died? You found no bottles?Nopipe?”
Sarah closed her eyes for an instant, picturing their house, her father’s chamber. “No. I found nothing. He must have taken the drug elsewhere. At anopiumden.”
“Or not at all,”Killiansaid.
“What do you mean? You think my assessment incorrect? You have some other explanation for his symptoms? There is no other disease I know of that would explain it. If you know such a one, educate me. I beg you.” As the last word left her lips, Sarah realized she spoke too fast, too loud. She wanted Killian to tell her of such a disease, to absolve her father of the addiction Sarah had attributedtohim.
But Killian offered no such kindness. Instead, he asked, “The night he went out in his bare feet… Was that the last time yousawhim?”
“No. I saw him early the next morning, before dawn. I was restless, unable to sleep. I went to the kitchen to make tea. He sat there in the dark. When I came in, he looked up at me and smiled. He was himself in that moment. He was the father I had alwaysknown.
“He seemed a different man than he had been the night before. Physically, at least. His skin was ruddy, his movements sure. But he was tormented, apologizing again and again for his actions, for frightening me. I said I forgave him. I made to touch his hand, but he backed away. He told me I must never again come into his chamber when he was there. He was adamant, distressed. He said I must stay away when he descended into what he called his melancholy.” She swallowed, the memories making her chest ache and her throat thick. It was both a torture and a relief to talk with someone about her father’s death. Before this, there had been no one to tell. “Two nights later, he drowned. His body was notrecovered.”
“How came you to know of his death?” Killian asked, his voicegentle.
“Several witnesses saw him tumble into the Thames, including my father’s old friend, Dr. Grammercy, a man I know and trust. Though I had no body to bury and mourn, I had their testimony, the gruesome truth of it.” Sarah paused, replaying the entirety of their conversation in her thoughts. “Do you think the man who hunts me was a patient of myfather’s?”
“Perhaps.”
“Someone from theopiumden?”
“Perhaps.”
She did not take his replies as evasive. He only spoke the truth. It could be a man from either of those sources orneither.
Killian glanced over his shoulder. “You locked your door when you left thismorning?”
“Yes. And you watched me unlock itjustnow.”
His attention flicked to the window. “He came in by other means.” He reached for the spare blanket she kept folded at the foot of her bed, shook it out, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She realized then that she was shaking, her teethchattering.
Killian stood mere inches away. She had to battle the urge to lean in against him, to rest her cheek against his chest and let the sound of his heartbeat ease her worries. Instead, she forced herself to step away from him. He did not follow, but she thought he wanted to. She thought he wanted to hold her as desperately as she wanted tobeheld.
The backs of her legs brushed the spindly chair in the corner. She sank down and stared up at him, her thoughts a muddle of waryconfusion.
There was no sense in any of this. Not in the pursuer who dogged her every step. Not in the gifts left on her pillow. And not in the attention shown her by KillianThayne.
She yet had no idea why he was here. She wasn’t certain she wanted to know. He came to her home, alone, atnight…
“I think you should go,” she said, and rose to drag off first the blanket, then his cloak, the latter of which she held out to him. His brows drew together as he took the cloak from her and draped it over his forearm. Then he lifted the discarded blanket and wrapped it around her shouldersoncemore.
“I cannot go.” His hard mouth curved up a little. “I am afraid that my damnably chivalrous nature precludes my leaving you here alonetonight.”
For an instant, she made no reply, her thoughts spinning through a thousand remembered dreams where he had been in this room with her, his lips on hers. She took a slow breath and forced herself to speak. “What are yousuggesting?”
“I suggest nothing. I state fact. I will remain herewithyou—”
“—you cannot—” She shookherhead.
“—or you will accompany me tomyhome—”
“—Icannot—”