Miss Van Rowen had seen nothing.

Chapter Thirteen

For the love of Christ, let it be someone come for me,Ethan thought the next day when he heard a carriage on the drive.

He closed his eyes in relief when he heard Hugh's voice in the front parlor. Though Hugh was usually so silent, Ethan distinctly heard him attempt to make conversation with the MacReedys. He wasn't polished with it, but he seemed to take his fumbles with a light heart.

When Hugh entered, Ethan noticed his brother looked hale and…happy?

"Ethan, it's good to see you!" he exclaimed as Ethan made a painstaking attempt to sit up in bed. "Grey told me he'd killed you."

Ethan quirked a brow. "So we're talking to Grey now?"

"No, of course no'." He grinned. "Those were his last words."

"You…killed him." Grey was dead at last? "How?"

After all this time—it wouldn't beEthan who destroyed Grey.

"Well,I dinna kill him precisely." Hugh pulled at his collar. "More like Jane and I did it together. It's a long story. I'll tell you on the way back. If you're ready to go home now?"

"What do you think? It's about bloody time someone came for me. I sent a wire weeks ago."

"There was no wire from you. I've searched everywhere—even had runners combing the countryside. That's how we located you here."

"No wire?" he bellowed, then heard the whelp take off, slamming out of the house. That was why he'd been stuck? Because the whelp had pocketed the telegraph fee? "I'm going to kill that puny bastard."

"Do it another time. I have to get back to London. Do you need help getting dressed?" When Ethan reluctantly nodded, Hugh helped him to the edge of the bed. "Let me see the damage." He gave a whistle at the sight of Ethan's wound. "That was close. Another inch—"

"And I would no' have been trapped here for five weeks."

"A bullet wound, though? Exactly how slowly were you moving for Grey to be able to hit you?" Hugh asked, and Ethan's fists clenched. "The skin's healing nicely. A couple of weeks more for the stitches—if you're careful with them." Frowning, Hugh said, "Why are you still so weak?"

"Because the food here tastes like sawdust," Ethan said. He'd probably lost a stone of weight.

"That might be, but you're still going to have to thank them for it."

"The hell I will."

Hugh lowered his voice. "If you doona, I will no' tell you how Grey died. And I might just leave your arse here…."

Twenty minutes later, Hugh and his coach driver were heaving Ethan up into his carriage. "That was no' so bad, now, was it?" Hugh grated with a last shove.

Ethan gritted his teeth, collapsing back onto the squabs. "Sod off, Hugh." His wound was singing, his head was spinning, and yet even after being blackmailed into muttering gratitude to that family, excitement drummed in him. Because Ethan had realized that Grey's death meant his duty was done. Ethan was free to go to Paris as soon as he got his strength back.

Suddenly he felt ravenous.

"Now, tell me how the hell Grey died," Ethan said once the coach began to roll along.

Hugh peered out the window as he answered, "Well, Jane plugged him with some arrows, and I…tripped him."

Ethan grew still. "Grey died bytripping ?" This was too humiliating.

"It was worse than it sounds," Hugh said quickly, facing him again. "Gruesome. A trial, truly. So how did Grey get the drop on you?"

"I was careless, and I paid for it." He shrugged, wanting away from that subject. "What else has happened in the last five weeks? Have you gotten your marriage annulled yet?"

"No, I dinna."

Ethan exhaled. "You told me Grey died weeks ago, and you still have no' done this?"

"I'm…staying married. Jane is mine now."

"But the curse," Ethan said, scowling at this absurdity. "Your past—"

"She knows about my past, about her father, about everything. Grey was sure to reveal all to her. And of the curse…it's no' as we thought, brother. Court's gotten married to Annalía, and, well, he's to be a da."

"No. That's no' possible." Ethan grew light-headed.Never seed shall take….

Hugh shook his head. "It's true. Annalía's big with his child. I saw her myself."

"The babe's no' his."

"That's what everyone thought you'd say. Annalía's a good lass, but for your benefit, I'll tell you that Court was her first and only, and that it was just the two of them together for weeks."

Ethan had met Annalía and knew she wouldn't possibly lie about the parentage of her babe—or take another lover besides Court. But still, to have this sole development refute what they'd believed for so long? "So how do you explain why Court's never gotten a bairn on any girl before? And then he does it so quickly with her?"

"Everyone who knows about the book and what's happened agrees that the last two lines of the foretelling must say something about each son finding the woman meant for him."

This was exactly what Ethan had feared—his brothers getting their hopes up, to be crushed. And yet Ethan couldn't argue the reasoning. Many a time, he'd used the book in just such a way as this. "You believe that?"

"I do, Ethan, and I hope you will, too."

"So you feel certain that I can marry and have bairns?" Ethan was unaccountably restless after hearing this news, even as he felt removed from the entire conversation, as if he were watching it instead of participating in it.

"Aye, if you find the right lass. And then you can get back to the life you're meant to lead."

"I am—"

"No, you're no'," Hugh interrupted. "You're the Earl of Kavanagh. You've got responsibilities and lands and people. You've got a title to pass down."

"Maybe I'm more satisfied in my current occupation."

"It's no' the life Da wanted for you—no' killing and being shot. And no' being alone nearly every damned day and night of your life," Hugh snapped.

"Just because you and Court have suddenly settled down does no' mean I have the same needs. I like the hunt. I like the danger."

"For how long, Ethan? You're no' getting any spryer. You bloody got tagged byGrey ."

Ah, that was low, and they both knew it. Ethan narrowed his eyes. "So you think you can just walk away from your job without looking back?"

"Aye, because now I have something to look forward to."

"Have you ever thought that you should no' be staying with Jane for reasons other than the curse, and other than your past?" Ethan demanded. "This all goes back to common bloody sense—something I'm discovering my brothers dearly lack, especially in their choices of brides." He flashed an expression of realization. "Jane's with bairn, is she no'? Apparently, it's quite easy for MacCarricks to propagate these days. That's why you are staying with her? And that's why she had to accept you."

"No, she is no' pregnant. We're waiting." At Ethan's look, Hugh hurriedly said, "No'as in abstinence."

"Waiting," Ethan said with a slow nod. "So my mercenary brother has gone off and married an excruciatingly rich heiress and gotten a babe on her, and my other brother is practicing contraception like a radical. Let me guess, her idea?"

"Ouridea. And I have thought over my marriage, Ethan. For weeks, I agonized over keeping Jane or no'. Every time I tell someone I married Jane Weyland, they laugh, thinking I'm jesting." Hugh frowned, muttering, "That's grown wearying quickly."

"Itis laughable," Ethan said, never one to palliate his words. "She's a famed beauty and wit, with an enormous extended family. You canna stand to be around groups of people and rarely talk to most."

"Aye, I know. But she is happy being my wife—turns out she's wanted to marry me since she was a girl." Hugh sounded so bloody proud. Ethan had to admit he'd never have suspected that from Jane. "And I'm making an effort for her."