Each of her accusations struck at Hartley like iron-tipped arrows. How long had Claudia been aware of his true identity?
“Where is Donal?” he demanded.
“Did you think I would tell you?” she whispered.
“He is with Claudia, is he not? If you value his safety, you must tell me at once.”
He waited for her answer, but all Eden could think was that Claudia had betrayed her again.
She had tried to kill Hartley. She had stolen Donal at his birth, knowing that he was a Faerie’s child. She had quite possibly drugged Eden so that she could take the boy without telling her niece where she was bound.
Claudia’s behavior had ceased to be rational. She kept secrets and harbored intentions that were beyond comprehension. The sum of her actions began to form a terrifying pattern.
Eden had been afraid when Hartley walked through the door. Afraid that he would seek revenge for her flight from Hartsmere. Afraid that he would take her son.
That fear was nothing to what she felt now. Does Claudia wish harm to my son? Why? Why? Yet even as she confronted the terror that flooded her mind, her calm returned. Everything became very clear. Part of her had wished for Hartley, and he was here. She was no longer alone.
“I have been worse than a fool,” she said. “Claudia took him, supposedly to protect him from you. I could not see that she was mad.”
He took a step toward her and almost fell. She dove to catch him. Had he lied about Claudia’s attack? Was he near death after all?
“You are hurt!” she cried. “Hartley!”
He shook her off. “We must find them. Where are they?”
“I do not know. I think she drugged me to make sure I could not protest.”
He cursed in a fluid, lilting tongue. “Donal and I share a bond. I may… be able to find him, if I am not too—” He began to topple sideways. Eden caught him in her arms again and nearly fell beneath his weight.
A sharp rap came on the door, and it opened before either one of them could recover. Rushborough strode in, his face flushed and angry.
“I see that I have come just in time,” he said, staring at Hartley like a belligerent ram. “Eden, I will not have this man in my house.”
Eden felt Hartley’s incredible effort to stand on his own feet. He pushed away from Eden and smiled. “Forgive me, Lord Rushborough, but I did not know we were… well enough acquainted to permit such rancor. Have we met before this evening?”
“We have not met, Fleming, but I know you. You are the man who seduced Lady Eden six years ago, got her with child, and abandoned her.”
“Ah. She has told you, has she? Then perhaps she has also mentioned… that it was her choice to leave me. I did not learn that she was enceinte until some time afterward.”
“You cad. She left you because she learned—” He paused, briefly at a loss. He looked at Eden. She felt cold, remembering how much she had told Rushborough—and how little.
“Francis,” she said. “It is so much more complex… The explanation… it must wait. There are more urgent considerations, and as you can see—”
“Surely you do not forgive this scoundrel! He has the unmitigated gall to return after all this time, to disrupt your life and mine—”
“I was wrong,” Hartley said. His voice shook the room, echoing with inhuman force. Rushborough’s mouth opened and closed.
“I did this lady a great wrong,” Hartley continued hoarsely, as if he had expended the last of his strength. “I do not know if she… can ever forgive me.” He met Eden’s gaze. “She is blameless. I do not intend to remain to trouble her life.”
“That is correct,” Rushborough snarled. “I will see you out of this house and out of London by tomorrow eve. This lady is to be my wife, and nothing shall ever disturb her peace again as long as I live.”
“I… will go,” Hartley said. He bowed to Eden. “Lady Eden, I wish you every…” He gave a low gasp and collapsed against the desk. Eden rushed to his side.