Page 73 of When We Touch

She shook her head, but he was afraid he knew what she might have intended to say. Hating her and . . . planning revenge!

“Arianna, I wish so badly that you would believe me, trust in me.”

She stepped back, away from him. Her face remained tear-stained and stricken, but she suddenly seemed to have gained a certain strength. “She’s bewitched you as well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said harshly.

Arianna couldn’t know what had been between himself and the young widow, but his own sense of guilt and wrong stirred hard within him. Bewitched, yes, it would be easy to believe that she had special powers, and therefore, had seduced him into sin. But he had simply wanted her, and resented Charles. He hadn’t wanted his uncle to die, and he was equally certain, in truth, that she had certainly not anticipated the death of Lord Charles, either.

“Look at you! Your beloved uncle and mentor has perished at her hands, and you are defending her!” Arianna accused.

He sighed. “Arianna, you are far too young and naive—”

“No, don’t even make such a suggestion, Jamie. I’m neither that young, nor naive. She gave my father something, probably slipped it into his champagne. Some substance that would—along with her oh so subtle charms—would cause his heart to fail. She knows exactly what she is doing. You are the one who is naive, Jamie!”

Right or wrong, anger swept through him like lava. He stared at her very coolly. “Arianna, please don’t suggest that I’m an idiot. You will only make fools of both of us. And perhaps you should look to finding a way to get along with the woman.”

Arianna frowned. “Why?”

“I’m not certain, but your father was extremely anxious for you to have some guidance as you reached your majority and made your debut among the Ton. If I’m not mistaken, she will have been appointed your guardian for the next several months.”

Arianna stared at him, stricken. She shook her head. “Oh, no! I was his daughter. I’m certain my father saw to my inheritance.”

“So he did. You are a very rich young lady. Unfortunately, you’ve not quite reached your birthday. And I believe you will discover that your stepmother is legally your guardian.”

She gasped out loud. “No, Jamie, you inherit the title and the estate. You must be my guardian, certainly.”

“I don’t believe that your father’s will is known to anyone in exact terms—other than his solicitors. Yet, how very sad. He has not been dead a day, and already his heirs are arguing over the bounty he has left behind.”

That, at last, brought the anger and resentment slipping from her eyes . . . and tears filling them once again.

Jamie didn’t know whether it was better for her to be miserable, or filled with such fury and a blind sense of justice that she was . . .

Dangerous.

“Arianna?” He took a step toward her, trying to offer a caring shoulder to cry on once again.

She accepted a hug, but stepped back quickly. “I’m all right, Jamie.”

“Really?”

“I just need . . . to be alone.”

“You’re certain?”

“Absolutely. Please, Jamie, I’ve lost him! I was gone, at school, I so seldom saw him . . . and now, he’s gone. I need to mourn for him in my own way now.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

She sniffed and nodded.

He studied her carefully. “Arianna, please, throwing about accusations that she killed your father will just create greater pain for all of us.”

“Why? Are you afraid that they will discover I’m right?” she demanded.

He sighed. “No, not in the least. And there is going to be an autopsy.”

“Ah!” she cried with pleasure. “So—the doctors even believe she might have murdered him.”