Part 47 (2/2)

”You are a villain,” she said, ”but you are not the worst kind of villain. No, that t.i.tle is reserved for my husband, whom you have returned to the world.”

”I ought not to have done it,” I told her. ”I acted out of anger.” ”I know,” she said, casting her eyes upon the floor. ”You wronged me, but there was some truth in what you said, and I own I can understand your motives and I believe that you do- did-love me in truth.”

”I did and I still do,” I said, stepping toward her. She held up her hand to stop me. ”It is too late for that. In bringing Sir Albert back from his grave, you have not only made me miserable, but you have endangered yourself.”

”I have heard he intends to harm the necromancer, but surely he cannot know who I am.”

She swallowed the remainder of her wine and set the goblet down upon the mantel. ”He has long suspected I know who returned him from death, though I denied it. I think Susan betrayed me. It would be like her, I think. It hardly matters. He demanded I tell him who had returned him. I tried to refuse. I tried to appeal to his better nature, but there is not such a thing. He hurt me, Mr. January. He hurt me where he knew the world would not see the bruises.”

Again, I took a step toward her. ”Caroline,” I said.

”No.” She backed away, as though I too would bring her harm. ”Do not touch me. I am sorry, Mr. January. I hate you for what you've done to me, but because I know I played a part in this, that I could have been kinder, I come to bring you warning. My husband has always been loyal to Sophia of Hanover, and he has always been a staunch Whig. He would have done anything to end the Stuart succession, and he will not allow you to bring the prince back from the grave. And, he is altered.”

”What do you mean?”

”He is not the same as he was before,” she told me, her voice now sounding wild. ”He is worse. He is crueler and more hurtful. He was always unkind, but not this bad. Death and resurrection, I fear, have heightened what was worst in him and dulled what little there was of good.”

I took a moment to consider what she said. I had not only brought a bad man back from the grave, but in doing so, I had made him worse.

”I am sorry, Lady Caroline,” I said.

She shook her head. ”Sorrow will get you nothing.You cannot fathom how you hurt me, and I have hated you for it, but I will not see you murdered because of me.You must know that he will come here before night's end, and he will have his particular villain with him. He will force you to reveal your secrets, and when there is nothing more to be learned from you, he will kill you.”

I smirked. I was my father's son, after all, and I was not afraid of the baronet, recently returned from the dead. His particular villain, indeed. I should have liked to have the opportunity to teach this fellow a thing or two about villainy.

”Let him try,” I said.

”You do not understand.”

”No, you do not understand. I am no coward to be threatened. I shall be waiting for him with sword and loaded pistols, and, if necessary, I shall send him back to the grave from which I so foolishly plucked him.”

”He will have you outnumbered.”

”Numbers do not signify. They will have to gain the house to fight me, and I shall happily dispatch any lackey Sir Albert cares to bring with him.”

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