Move Heaven and Earth by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page B

cliff, they’d been playing cards. They’d probably had a celebration at their first chance to get ridof him, cheered when that woman returned without him, and laid odds on his ability to return.
    They pitched some cards on the table, then his mother chirped, “How was your walk, dear?”
    His fury exploded. “Walk? Walk? I didn’t walk. Your legs have to work for you to walk.” He pointed at the useless limbs that used to carry him wherever he wanted to go. “I can’t walk.”
    “I think your mother knows that,” said Sylvan’s voice behind him. “You don’t need to bludgeon her with the sorry facts of your life.”
    Rand wheeled around, ready to attack, when Garth said, “It’s just a manner of speech, Rand. Mother meant—”
    “I know what Mother meant.”
    “Then don’t speak so rudely to the dowager duchess,” Aunt Adela said. “It’s not appropriate to her station, or yours.”
    “Really, Adela, I don’t mind.” Lady Emmie smiled weakly, ever the peacemaker between Adela and her sons.
    “I mind enough for both of us. If it weren’t for me, this family would fall into ramshackle practices and moral weaknesses.” Aunt Adela stared down her nose at Garth. “And even I am not bastion enough to stem the depravities of the current duke.”
    “Oh, let’s not start that again.” Garth threw his cards on the table. “You know my reasons, Aunt Adela.”
    “I’m going to bed,” Rand announced.
    “That’s nice, dear.” Lady Emmie waved a feeble good-bye, all her attention concentrated on the developing quarrel.
    Pointing at Rand as if he were an exhibit, Lady Adela said, “See, Garth, even your brother occasionally prevails over his demeaning infirmity.”
    Rand heard Sylvan suck in a shocked breath, then shecried, “Demeaning? What’s demeaning about an injury taken in the line of duty?”
    “It’s not as if he were actually hurt.” Lady Adela dismissed Sylvan and turned back to Garth. “Surely you, as duke—”
    “Not actually hurt?” Sylvan’s fists clenched at her sides.
    “Shut up,” Rand muttered.
    “He’s in a wheelchair!”
    “Just shut up.”
    Losing patience, Lady Adela said, “He wasn’t wounded!”
    Silence hit the room with a thud.
    “For God’s sake, Mother.” James leaped to his feet and paced toward the window.
    Lady Adela shriveled under everyone’s concentrated fury. “Well, somebody had to tell her.”
    Sylvan shifted position subtly, but Rand could read her impatience. “So, somebody tell me.”
    “What should I say?” Rand asked. “I can’t walk, and there’s not a mark on me.”
    “Not true!” James whirled in anguish. “I saw you when you stumbled into Wellington’s presence. Covered with blood and bruises.”
    Rand sneered. “Minor wounds.”
    “Led charge after charge. Had three horses shot out from underneath you. After you lost your regiment, you scrapped like a madman. I fought clear across the battlefield, and I heard about your valor. An inspiration!”
    “But I can’t walk.” Rand pushed his way into the center of the room, and everyone moved back. “If I’m such an inspiration, why can’t I walk?”
    “You could if you just tried,” James insisted. “I know if you just tried—”
    “Do you think I haven’t tried? Don’t you know how much I want to walk?” Rand took deep breaths to combat the constriction of his chest. “I’ve seen doctor after doctor, let them prod me and pour their vile concoctions down me. I’ve taken their stupid herb baths, and for what? To be as useless as I was before!”
    “Please, dear.” Lady Emmie clasped her hands before her, crumpling the cards in her fists. “Don’t say that.”
    “Useless?” Rand took a twisted pleasure in her pain. “Useless. Useless, useless, useless.”
    “Rand.” Garth and Rand locked gazes. “The afternoon proved to be congenial without you. Don’t tempt us to discover what further enjoyment your absence might bring.”
    Rand couldn’t believe his