live would only hurt him. Don’t ask me to do this.”

While their exact words made no sense, Eleisha did grasp one surprising thing from this argument. Julian loved his father, understood the psychology of William far better than she ever imagined he could.

“Help him,” Katherine whimpered. “For God’s sake.”

“No.”

“Eleisha!” A ringing bell and screaming mistress brought Eleisha flying back into the room.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Take your master up to bed. He is tired.”

The expression of profound relief on William’s face at the sight of his young companion was not lost on anyone, least of all Julian.

“Eleisha, child,” William said. “It’s time to sleep.”

“Yes, quite late,” she said, smiling. “We won’t dream tonight.”

Toward the wee hours of early dawn, fear crawled into Eleisha’s slumber, and her eyes opened to see Julian’s nearly black ones directly above.

“Don’t,” he whispered before she could move or cry out. “No one will come.”

Angry words gathered in her mouth. Terror overwhelmed them, driving them back down her throat.

“What’s wrong with my father?” Julian asked.

His question threw her, and then she noticed the worried lines across his pale forehead. He must be desperate, or he wouldn’t have lowered himself to speak to her in the first place.

“Age, illness. That’s all.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he spat. “It’s more than age. I’ve seen old age.”

“Why are you asking me?”

His hand jerked back to strike her, and then he stopped, breathing in harsh, shallow gasps. “I want no part of this . . . My mother’s words say nothing. She’s mad. A cold bitch at heart. Not like him.”

Unlike Lady Katherine’s emotional deluges, Julian’s evoked pity. “He was a good father, wasn’t he?” Eleisha asked. “Kind? Understanding?”

Julian lowered his hand. He walked over to the sleeping form of Lord William. “Yes, a good father. Wouldn’t hear of a riding master. Taught me himself. Never pushed me or asked for more than I could give.”

“You were fortunate.”

“And look how splendidly things turned out,” he rasped. “He deserves more. Mother and I deserve less.”

Part of Eleisha wanted to stop him, to urge his secrets away. These words were born of exhaustion and sorrow. Right now he needed someone to talk to. Tomorrow he would despise her for knowing his weakness.

Suddenly, that didn’t matter.

“Things don’t always work out the way we plan,” she said. “Your father is proud of you. He always has been. Don’t you remember his laughter at your party? Not false or forced—a happy night.”

“Does he remember me? Does he know who I am?”

“Of course.”

“How long have you been sleeping in here?”

“Two years. He has trouble sleeping. Bad dreams.”

Eleisha watched Julian’s tall form as he stood for a long while beside William’s bed. Then, without a word, he turned to the door.

“Sir?” she said quietly.

“What?”

“Tomorrow I won’t remember any of this. I won’t remember you were here.”

He stared at her briefly and then walked out.

“Heartless thing!” Katherine wailed. “Cold and cruel, like a lake in December.”

Why Julian didn’t simply leave remained a mystery to the servants. Each night, his mother’s railing grew worse. She hounded him in the halls, cried to him in the study. His face betrayed obvious horror, but he seemed unable to escape. Some invisible force held him at Cliffbracken, refusing to let go. He ate nothing, slept all day, and sat staring at Lord William most of the night. Eleisha grew accustomed to his presence and even slept well. A bizarre scene. Scandalous. A young lord, an old lord, and a serving girl spending each night in the same room. But no one said a word.

“It will be my fault if he dies,” Julian whispered through the dark.

“Of course it won’t,” she whispered back. “Don’t talk like that.”

“No, it will be. Mother’s right about that part at least.”

This obsession grew worse, and Lady Katherine sensed it. “Why don’t you help him? Why don’t you save him?” she cried at dinner the next evening. Neither of them ate a bite.

The pressure built. The storm gathered for weeks before exploding into a nightmare. Eleisha heard Julian cry out from the study, and then the sound of books being thrown.

“All right! All right, Mother. But this is your doing. Your wish. If he hates me afterward, I’ll kill you myself.”

What was he going to do?

Fear closed Eleisha’s throat. Julian swept into Lord William’s room, eyes gone red. “Get out,” he snarled at her.

“What are you going to do? I could hear you shouting from here.”

Without answering, he grabbed her arm and threw her out the door. His hand felt cold. She