For Your Arms Only by Linden, Caroline (best fiction books to read .TXT) 📗

she felt her eyelids prickle with tears. In a burst of panic she said a quick, desperate prayer that whatever it was, her father had nothing to do with it, even though deep in her heart she was terribly sure he did.

“I put it here to keep it safe.” His voice seemed to echo from the depths of a tomb. “No one knew…”

“What is it?” Julia whispered again, sounding as cowed as Cressida felt. Now neither was wriggling with impatience or anything else, but sitting stone-still and clutching the other’s hand.

He didn’t respond. Leaving the contents of the trunk strewn about the attic floor, he got to his feet and began picking his way toward the door. Cressida exchanged a nervous glance with Julia before they seized the lights and hurried after him.

Chapter 26

He was halfway down the stairs by the time they caught up to him. “What is it?” Julia asked for the third time. “Alec, you’re frightening me. What did you find?”

He just shook his head. Julia stopped. “Alec!” Still he ignored her. She turned to Cressida. “What on earth?”

“I don’t know,” she said, watching him disappear toward his chamber. “But I don’t think this is a good time to ask.”

“It was a fine time to go rummaging about the attic,” Julia protested. “It must be something!”

Cressida just gave her a helpless look, then followed Alec, slipping into the room as he opened the wardrobe.

“What did you find?”

He pulled out a coat and tossed it on a chair, stripping off the coat he wore. “An old letter.”

Cressida chewed the inside of her cheek, then forced herself to speak. “It—It’s about my father’s diary, isn’t it?” He didn’t reply, rummaging around in a drawer. “Do—Do you know what he spoke of? The man who…” Words failed her, and she stopped. If Alec were somehow the man in her father’s journal, it proved his guilt. Her father’s as well, but that was immaterial; he was gone, while Alec was still here to bear the shame and disgrace, and her heart was splitting in two at the thought. “I can burn it,” she said a little wildly. “No one else has ever seen it—it was in code, not even Tom knew what was inside—”

“You don’t have to burn it, Cressida.” He took a knife from the drawer and slid it into a sheath with a strap attached. To her alarm, he swung the strap over his shoulder and buckled it, settling the knife and sheath under his arm. “Translate the rest of it. I daresay it will answer all your questions.” He put on the coat he had just taken out, patted the pockets and ran his palms down the sleeves, and strode past her to the door. The dagger under his arm made the barest ridge, although to Cressida’s panicked eyes it looked to be the size of a battle saber.

“Where are you going?”

“To see a dear family friend.”

She wedged herself between him and the door to block his path. “Why? Tell me, damn it. It involves my father in some way—do you think I’m a complete fool? I translated that journal; I know what it said. Are you—” Her voice shook appallingly. It was impossible, but she had to ask anyway. “You can’t be that man, the one he described.”

His jaw hardened. “No.”

She almost sobbed with relief. “Then what? Don’t brush me aside like this. What caused you to go running off to search the attic for a trunk you could have had brought down any time in the last month?”

The dark, focused look faded a bit from his face. “Cressida, let me pass.”

She set her chin. “Not until you tell me where you are going, and why you need a dagger.”

Alec exhaled through his teeth. “Later. I will explain, I swear to you I will. Just…not at this moment.” She shook her head, holding tight to the doorknob and refusing to yield. He ran one hand through his hair and swore under his breath. “I fear—I believe I know who your father describes. He…was a friend of mine. I thought I knew him, and yet he betrayed everything: not just his country, but his family and everyone who loved him.”

“Including you?” Her question was just a breath of sound.

His shoulders tensed. “Yes.”

“But this doesn’t need to be done now,” she cried. “Wait until tomorrow. Tell the army—write to Lord Hastings and have him send someone else to deal with it!”

“Cressida.” With unbearable tenderness he touched her cheek. “For five years my life hasn’t been my own. I lost everything, not just my reputation but my family, my name, my very honor.”

“I know,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her face. “But—”

“Do you think you could wait, and go on with your life for a day or two or ten, if you knew the answer to all your questions lay just a few miles away?”

“Let me go with you.” She seized his jacket in both hands. “He’s my father. I have a right to know, too.”

“You do. And I will tell you the moment I return.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her, so sweetly she wanted to weep. She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him, the man she loved more than anything, and thought she might die of fear. If her father had betrayed him in some way…if her father had been responsible for his disgrace…Would Alec still want her? Could he look at her without seeing the daughter of the man who destroyed him? The premonition that she might lose the love she’d never expected to find made her hold on for dear life when Alec tried to set her away from him.

“I’m going with you,” she said fiercely. “Don’t you dare leave without me.”

“Under no circumstances are you going with me.” He raised one eyebrow at her. “I’ll tie you to my