“That was before,” she argued.
“Before you tried to kill him the first time?”
“Stop it!” she yelled. “I never tried to hurt him, and you’re the only person who’s ever said such an awful thing.”
“Ha! You don’t really think that, do you? The whole island has been transfixed by my father’s story for years. Add in a mysterious young wife, a tragic accident, a sordid living arrangement, and a suspicious death. . . . Good God, they suspected you of murder even before you tried to kill me.”
“You attacked me.”
“I wanted to help you. No one else believes anything you say. Look at the liar you’ve made of yourself, Katherine.”
Terror opened up inside her. He was right about that, if nothing else. She slid one foot back, taking herself closer to the door. “Why did you come here? What do you want?”
“That’s up to you.” He offered a flat smile. His black hair slipped over his forehead, and he looked startling young when he pushed it back. When she slid her foot back again, he glanced toward the door and shook his head. “You’ve already proven yourself guilty by running once. The authorities wanted to charge you with murder, but I talked them into waiting.”
That stopped her in her tracks. Ice formed inside her chest. “What?”
“I can’t hold them off forever.”
“What did you tell them?” she demanded.
“I haven’t told them anything. You’re not listening to me. I’m trying to help you. I was trying to help you the night you left—”
“If that’s what you call help—”
He lunged for her, wrapping his hands around her upper arms to shake her. “Listen to me, damn it. I hardly think one kiss is too much to ask for saving your life. And to think you repaid me by nearly breaking my skull open.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You will have to answer to the authorities one way or another. Did you think you could flee Ceylon after my father’s death, and people would shrug and say fare-thee-well?”
“I don’t know. I . . .”
His eyes burned like dark ice in the dimness of the shop. His lips pressed tight to his teeth when he spoke. “You need me, Katherine. Come home with me and I’ll tell them you were out riding the day he died. I’ll swear you couldn’t have hurt him. Or stay here and I’ll tell them the truth.”
“I didn’t hurt him!”
“Damn it, I don’t care if you hurt him, don’t you see that?”
His hands were squeezing bruises into her arms. The sound of his panting filled her ears.
“He was supposed to bring you to Ceylon for me,” Gerard said. “And he ruined everything. Even when that bastard died, he ruined everything.”
She saw true sorrow in his eyes then. Torment instead of madness. “Gerard . . .”
“I want to take care of you. You were the only good thing in my life. Ever. I just want you to come home.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t go back. I don’t belong there.”
His hands slowly loosened. The sorrow in his eyes faded to disappointment. “You’re tired,” he said.
“I’m tired of being afraid.”
He shook his head. “There’s no need to be afraid of me. I’d never hurt you.”
“Just go home. Please. I’m begging you.”
Gerard opened his hands and stepped back as if to show that he meant no harm. “You’ve had a shock. Lie down and rest before dinner tonight.”