Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine 3)

Francesca swallowed thickly, shocked, absorbing the disturbing news while Gerard studied her. Ian had bought Trevor Gaines’s house?

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. It’s just . . . I assumed that Ian’s secret that you’ve all been guarding is somehow related to this man Gaines. I wanted to assure myself that if you, Anne, and James were aware of whatever Ian is involved in, that you were also aware of how . . . unbalanced he sounds on the topic.”

“Unbalanced?” Francesca asked warily. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Even Lucien was uncomfortable while they talked. I could tell. Who wouldn’t be, with Ian ranting the way he was. He sounded very angry, but for the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend at what his fury was aimed.” His laugh sounded uneasy. “For a moment, I thought he sounded a little like . . .”

“What?” Francesca asked, her alarm mounting. The idea of Ian purchasing Trevor Gaines’s home, searching in it. . . . Had he been living in that monster’s residence this whole time? Ice water seemed to shoot through her veins at the thought. She shuddered, placing her hand on her chest when an uncomfortable spasm went through it.

“Gerard, what did you think Ian sounded like?” she asked, her voice growing high pitched.

Gerard winced. “Well he sounded a little like my cousin Helen,” he admitted uneasily.

Francesca stared at him, shock making her flesh tingle. “Gerard, that’s a horrible thing to say. Ian is as sane as anyone I know. He’s been through a hell of a lot in a short period of time. He’s had to deal with more than most could endure. More than you know.”

“Francesca, please don’t go,” Gerard said when she abruptly set her napkin on the table and stood. “I realize that Ian doesn’t often appear the way I observed. That’s why I wanted to make sure I brought it up to someone who has an idea of whatever he’s been experiencing for the past half year. I was aware that Lucien and he were discussing something secretive by their manner, but I’d never seen Ian behave in such a . . . an irrational way. Although,” he added under his breath, “surely you’ve noticed he’s been rather . . . frayed at times during this visit. Anne and James certainly have. Actually, I have seen him act oddly one other time in his life,” he said, pausing in reflection. “When he first came to Belford as a child, he could be very moody and unpredictable. Sometimes he reminded me of one of those feral children, to be honest. Not to that degree, of course, but still . . . It was tragic to see it, imagining what he must have endured with only a madwoman for a companion for the first ten years of his life. For a moment when I saw him there in the sitting room, I was reminded of that child. I thought he was going to strike out at Lucien like a cornered animal.”

“He would never do that,” Francesca grated out, her chaotic thoughts suddenly landing on how wild Ian had looked the other day behind the stairs, how he’d flung Lucien’s hand away from him. She didn’t believe that Ian was mad for an instant, but what if he really had endured too much emotionally? She’d worried what he was doing during this soul search was unhealthy for him, but she hadn’t imagined him doing something as extreme as buying Trevor Gaines’s house and conducting some sort of obsessive search. And for what? What could he possibly hope to find?

A wave of powerful nausea went through her at the thought.

What if Gerard was right? She’d worried that Ian had been emotionally cut open with the news of Trevor Gaines and his mother’s death, but what if he really was skating on the edge? What if he’d gone over the edge at times? He was always alluding to the fact that he had no choice in his mission, and she’d fought that concept tooth and nail.

But wasn’t it true that the closer a person got to madness, the less and less choice they had? They felt compelled, ruled by powers other than their own.

I didn’t choose any of this. Fate did.

She moaned softly, nausea rising to her throat at the memory of him saying those words.

“Francesca, please sit down,” Gerard implored, standing and looking alarmed. “You look very pale.”

“No. No, I’d just like to be alone,” she managed, hardly aware of what she said when Gerard reached out to steady her. She removed his hand and somehow made it out of the room.

* * *

Francesca rushed into her suite, experiencing a strange sense of rising panic overlaid with a clear focus. She needed to go and find Ian. She needed to assure herself that he was safe and not descending into a place where she couldn’t reach him. Never in a million years would she have allowed him to continue on this soul search if she’d thought his mission included spending time alone in Trevor Gaines’s house, sifting through the remains of his sick life.

But was he alone? She wondered, pausing as she began to open her drawers. Hadn’t Elise referred to the fact that Lucien might join him? When Elise had mentioned it before, she’d had some vague idea that perhaps both of them would go to Morocco together so that Ian could ask Fatima about his mother. She hadn’t been happy about the idea, but it seemed downright healthy compared to what Ian had actually been doing and planned to continue to do. God, if Ian really was in Trevor Gaines’s house, please let Lucien be with him. Lucien, at least, could steady him in this bizarre mission. She rushed to her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

“Elise?” she said a moment later, relief rushing through her at the sound of Elise’s voice. “I’m so glad I caught you.”