He raised his head and let it fall back to the pillow.
“Stop,” he whispered. “That time is gone. Is the present… not all the more precious to humans, who live such brief lives?”
“Is the past of no concern to your kind, who live forever?”
“The centuries can be very lonely.”
“Was Donal to be your companion for eternity?”
His expression twisted, as if some inward pain overwhelmed him. “I came to… value your companionship, Eden. More… than I thought possible.”
She swallowed the heavy ache in her throat. “And yet you used me, knowing you would take Donal from me.”
“Yes. I used you, with no thought to your feelings.” His hand moved restlessly under hers. “I believed… that all I wanted was a child. But that changed. It changed when you returned to Hartsmere.”
“You hated me then, didn’t you?”
“I believed that you had betrayed me… that you had joined your father in breaking our pact. I thought I wanted revenge. Fane can be merciless in vengeance. But you have also hated me, Eden. Do not your philosophers say that hatred is akin to love?”
“Your hatred, or mine?” She smiled sadly. “Do you claim to love me?”
No fear could match the one she felt for Donal or for Hartley’s life. Yet she waited now with her hand folded around his, waited for the answer that might give birth to a miracle.
He shuddered and closed his eyes. She thought that he had fallen into unconsciousness and felt frantically for his pulse. But it was there, thready and weak.
He had given her his answer.
Someone knocked on the door, and a maid entered with a pitcher and bowl and cloths. A footman followed with a tray of biscuits, sliced ham, and tea. They set down the deliveries without a word and left. Eden rose, soaked a cloth in the cool water, and returned to the bedside. Hartley did not stir as she laid it across his forehead.
She had prayed, oh, how she had prayed that these feelings would not return. She did not want to keep loving Hartley. He had given her no reason to nurture what ought to be dead, and every reason to cast it aside. His weakness should give her an advantage in this ruinous battle they waged, if she wished to win at any price.
But victory was a sword that turned on its wielder. It cut deeply. She needed Hartley more than ever before, to save her son.
She fetched the tray and poured him a cup of tea. He took one sip and pushed it away. He rejected the biscuit and ham as well.
“You must eat, Hartley. If we are to find Donal, you must get well.”
He opened his eyes and met her gaze. Pain had dulled the spring green to old moss. “There… may be a way, Eden. A way for you to help me.”
“Tell me.”
“Today is what men know… as All Hallows’ Eve. The ancients called it Samhain. Once it was a sacred time for your people. They lit bonfires to welcome the spirits of those who had gone before. They believed—and it is true—that the veil between the realms of Fane and man… grows thin on this night.”
“You waste your strength in talking—”
He lifted his hand to brush her lips with his fingers. “There was another name for Samhain: ‘the time that is no time.’ All boundaries are as nothing. Fane may give gifts to man… and woman may give her strength to Fane.”
“I will give you all I have.”
“Then lend me the magic of your body, Eden,” he whispered.
Chapter 21
In his eyes she read his meaning. Her body came to instant readiness—treacherous body, that could still want him so much, at such a time. But her mind and heart knew that what he asked went far beyond a joining for the purpose of physical pleasure.
“I can make you strong again?”
“There is… a chance.”
Maybe the only chance they had. She set aside all her questions and went to the door to lock it. Let Lady Saville and her guests think what they chose. This was life and death.