“What sort of cure?”
“I don’t know. They say it is successful, but we shall see.”
“Let me help you, brother. I don’t want you to feel alone against this.”
Harry walked to her, leaned forward and pressed a kiss upon her forehead. “You cannot come with me. I do not want you to see me the way I will be.”
“I’ve seen you at your worst.”
He shook his head. “I wish I could erase the memory of those times from your mind. But you need to be here. We don’t know what will be happening to Neal. Thea will need help.”
“Thea sounds as if she can take care of herself,” Margaret argued.
“Does she? I don’t know. Certainly she wants us to do battle in a way no one seems to have tried before. We’ve all been afraid of it. But I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of being who I am.”
“Well, who you are is important to us. Please, Harry, be gentle with yourself, and be careful of the world or of searching out this witch.”
He smiled, felt the weight of the marble in his pocket. “I’ve never lost in battle, Margaret. I shall not lose now.”
With those confident words, he walked out the door, feeling less confident than he ever had before in his life. He didn’t stop to say good-bye to Neal and Thea. He could hear them in the breakfast room, laughing and talking with the boys. His brother sounded as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
How he envied Neal.
And Neal dreamed. Harry had noticed his brother’s comments in the journal Neal and Thea had been keeping. Harry didn’t dream. He had nightmares of the men who’d given their lives for him. A dream of a witch would be a welcome relief.
Harry walked out of the house, heading for Fife Lane and Rimmer’s cure.
“A determined man can do anything,” Mr. Rimmer said. “However, I must warn you, my cure may kill you.”
“But will I be done with drink, with laudanum if I live?” Harry demanded. Up and down the hall of the tidy house, moans and shouts could be heard coming from beyond the bedroom doors. It sounded like bedlam or a brothel with unhappy clients.
“We shall see,” was the cryptic answer.
For the next two weeks of his life, Harry found himself in a special kind of hell. Rimmer’s cure was really little more than what Margaret had attempted when she’d ordered him tied and held down to his bed. It had been painful, nauseating, frightening then, and it was worse now.
Rowan stayed faithfully by his side.
Harry cried, swore and begged, but his servant would not release him from the bounds holding him in place. The visions tore at his soul. If he thought his dreams before had been troubled, the visions, the hallucinations he had now were more horrific, and all too real.
And then one day, the pain wasn’t as bad. The anxiety, the delusions lessened.
Rimmer started the next phase of his cure. Harry was treated to scalding hot baths designed to rid his body of poisons. Thea’s cure! Who knew his sister and sister-in-marriage were so wise?
Harry kept Christopher’s marble shooter on the table beside the bed. During his worst moments, he clutched the marble, using it to remind him of all that was at stake.
At the end of two weeks, he was pronounced “cured.” His eye was clear, his hand steady, and, for now, his demons were at bay. He had lost weight, most of it the bloat of his vices, and his hair had gone prematurely gray at his temples.
“Fetch Ajax,” he ordered Rowan, “and bring me my pistols and my sword. I’m ready to hunt for a Scottish witch.”
Harry plucked the marble off the bedside table and placed it in his pocket.
He was prepared to do battle.
And if she would not fight, then he would beg her to take his life instead of his brother’s.
About the Author
CATHY MAXWELL spends hours in front of her computer pondering the question, “Why do people fall in love?” It remains for her the great mystery of life and the secret to happiness.
She lives in beautiful Virginia with children, horses, dogs, and cats.
Fans can contact Cathy at www.cathymaxwell.com or PO Box 1135, Powhatan, VA 23139.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
By Cathy Maxwell
Lyon’s Bride: The Chattan Curse
The Seduction of Scandal
His Christmas Pleasure
The Marriage Ring
The Earl Claims His Wife
A Seduction at Christmas
In the Highlander’s Bed
Bedding the Heiress
In the Bed of a Duke
The Price of Indiscretion
Temptation of a Proper Governess
The Seduction of an English Lady
Adventures of a Scottish Heiress
The Lady Is Tempted
The Wedding Wager
A Scandalous Marriage
Married in Haste
Because of You
When Dreams Come True
Falling in Love Again
You and No Other
Treasured Vows
All Things Beautiful
Coming Soon
Scottish Witch: The Chattan Curse
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LYON’S BRIDE. Copyright © 2012 by Catherine Maxwell, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition MAY 2012 ISBN: 9780062070258
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062070227
FIRST EDITION
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