When I wake up, I know I’ve turned a corner.
I feel refreshed and healthier than I have in days, wrung out, but clear-headed and eager to get back to business. I have sewing to catch up on and not much time left to finish the final touches on my designs.
But first, I have to thank Jeffrey for taking care of me and make us the biggest breakfast ever. I’m starving.
I wander into the library to crawl into bed with my sweet General and his lovely armpit, only to find the liar with the no-longer-hidden phone’s receiver pressed to his ear, telling Sabrina everything he promised he wouldn’t.
I’m still standing in the doorway, frozen with shock, my skin stinging with betrayal when he adds in a frustrated tone, “Your sister is fine, by the way. Just stubborn as hell and refusing to listen to reason.”
“I am not stubborn! And you swore you wouldn’t call Sabrina, you liar,” I shout, launching myself at the phone.
“Get back in bed,” Jeffrey orders. I bat his pointing finger out of the way, only to have him to shove it back in my face. On instinct, I lunge forward, biting down on the offending digit.
Hard.
With a curse, Jeffrey slams the phone back into the receiver. Before I can demand to talk to Sabrina, to fix this somehow, he’s thrown me over his shoulder, toting me back toward the bedroom.
But if he thinks this betrayal is ending with kisses and honey, he’s going to be sadly, sadly mistaken.
7
Jeffrey
“Calm down and listen, damn you!” I pin Elizabeth’s arms to the mattress over her head, sparing myself another swipe of her claws. I knew she wasn’t going to be thrilled that I’d broken my promise not to call home, but I didn’t expect her to come at me like a feral cat.
“I will not calm down, you liar!” She aims a knee at my balls, which thankfully connects with my thigh instead.
I leverage one leg across both of hers, a precaution in case I want to sire children someday.
“You’re a dirty, rotten liar,” she says, bucking beneath me with surprising strength. I’d be thrilled to see her feeling so much better if she weren’t using her restored health to try to murder me. “You promised you wouldn’t call, and then the second I’m asleep, you’re on the phone like a dirty, lying, phone rat.”
“That isn’t true. You’ve been asleep for an entire day.”
“Liar!” she shouts.
“I am not a liar,” I boom with enough volume that I startle her into momentary stillness. “I woke you up to give you medicine twice,” I continue more softly, “but you went right back to sleep after. It’s almost sunset again, Elizabeth. The engagement ceremony begins in less than an hour. I had to let my mother know where I was, or she would have been out of her mind with worry.”
“You didn’t have to talk to my sister,” she says, her breath still coming faster. “You didn’t have to turn your brother against her.”
“I didn’t tell Andrew,” I counter. “I didn’t speak to him at all. I wanted to give Sabrina the chance to come clean with him and the rest of my family on her own. It will be easier for Andrew if he finds out from her instead of hearing from his little brother that he’s been played for a fool.”
“You’re the fool, not him,” she says, her eyes shining. “And if you’ve ruined their happiness, I’ll never forgive you. Never!”
“You mean for the next six months?” I shoot back, even though I know it’s a shite thing to say.
But her words have been haunting me. Ever since she told me that she thinks she’s cursed, I’ve been imagining what it must have been like for her, to suffer with this secret, to have an unaddressed childhood trauma distorting her entire life and dooming her hopes for the future.
No surprise she’s making terrible decisions.
She’s mentally ill, so dangerously deluded that our first stop after leaving this cabin should be at a psychiatrist’s office.
She glares up at me, her sky-blue eyes sharp and focused. “I wish I hadn’t told you that. But I suppose it’s good I did. It’s always nice to know someone’s true colors, even if the finding out part is awful.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know what you meant.” She hitches her chin higher. “Now get off of me. I have to pack.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say, staying put. “You’re ill.”
“No, I’m not. Not anymore,” she says, the heat in her tone pretty damned convincing. “I’m homicidally angry. Trust me, you don’t want me sleeping here tonight. You might not wake up in the morning.”
“Are you serious? You’re threatening to kill me?” I challenge. “Because I couldn’t, in good conscience, allow my brother to remain engaged to a woman who’s been lying to him from the moment they met? Do you realize how insane that sounds?”