Through the Smoke by Brenda Novak Read Free Book Online Page B

“I believe you said that last winter, Clive.”
    “I should have listened to myself. If you had any idea what you were missing, you would leave this godforsaken place and come to London with me, lands or not. But look who I am preaching to! You haven’t the slightest inclination to visit the city these days. Forget the Season. You won’t even come for business.” The doctor’s scarf muffled his words, but the wind had changed course and was now at their backs, easily carrying his voice to them.
    “It’s my good sense that keeps me away,” the earl shouted.
    Rachel listened to their banter, feeling the shift in their moods, the gradual lessening of the tension that had stifled their progress as surely as the blizzard. The worst was over. She would soon be back with her mother. But… what would she find?
    As if sensing the cause of her reticence, the earl covered her frozen hands with one of his, surprising her with his gentleness. “Just a few minutes more,” he said.
    At last, dawn began to streak across the sky. The storm was now little more than a few drops of rain, but the McTavish cottage remained shuttered and dark. For a moment, Rachel squeezed her eyes closed. She was almost afraid to look for fear she would see some sign of her mother’s death.
    Eventually, she opened her eyes to find all as it normally was—not that “normal” gave anything away.
I won’t last long
. Had Jillian lasted long enough for Rachel’s efforts to make any difference?
    Lord Druridge slid off the horse and helped her down, at which point she forced her frozen feet to lead them through the small, fenced garden she tended for her family.
    At the door, she stood aside and waved them in. Her unsteady legs wouldn’t carry her beyond the threshold for fear of what she might find.
    Not quite yet…
    The horses snorted and swished their tails, their breath misting in the morning air. That ugly storm had preceded one of the most beautiful dawns Rachel had ever seen. She watched the long yellow fingers of the sun crawl over the rooftops to the east, and murmured a silent prayer for her mother.
    The village awakened as Rachel watched. She could smell bread baking not far away, hear the creak of wagon wheels, see vendors pushing their carts down the wet street.
    Strange how life goes on even when the world is falling apart.…
    She was about to turn and head inside when the door opened and the earl stepped out. He watched her for a few moments without speaking before glancing into the distance as if searching for what she saw.
    Rachel didn’t break the silence until he met her eyes. Then she squared her shoulders. She sensed he had something to say. “Is she dead?”
    He looked behind them as though wishing someone else would come through the door. When no one emerged, he said, “I’m sorry, Miss McTavish. She died moments before we arrived. There was nothing Jacobsen could do.”
    Pain stabbed Rachel in the chest, feeling like a shard of broken glass. Unwilling to let the man she blamed for all three deaths in her family witness her grief or delight in her suffering, she sucked in a gulp of air to help her bear it. If only he had sent the doctor earlier, instead of forcing her to bargain for her mother’s life, perhaps her mum would have been spared.
    If only she had capitulated earlier…
    Damming such thoughts, Rachel forced back the questions and accusations that whirled in her brain like the eddies of a deep pool. She wouldn’t think of “what if” now. There would be time enough for regret in all the long years she would live without her mother’s comforting presence.
    She felt the earl’s hand on her arm and jerked away. “You can take your doctor home, my lord,” she said, amazed by the formal, steely quality of her own voice. “I will not trouble you further.”
    Numbly, she removed his cloak and held it out. When he hesitated, she dropped it in the snow and turned, walking past him to meet her eight-year-old