Move Heaven and Earth Read Free Page A

from her experience on the battlefield and in the hospital. She’d heard it in every soldier’s voice as he was carried, screaming, to the surgeon for amputation.
    Rage and pain, disgust and fear.
    She didn’t want to face those raw emotions again. She’d spent the last eleven months trying to forget, while knowing she never would.
    Run away ! her mind urged. Run before your foolish compassion traps you here .
    But her feet moved forward.
    Call Jasper and tell him you’ve changed your mind. Run away !
    Slowly, she mounted the stairs, and all the while Rand’s voice raged and Garth admonished. A vase full of flowers flew out the window and broke so close the water wet her shoes and splashed her dress. Lord Rand must have seen her and was aiming now.
    It was a clear sign she should leave, but instead she picked up one of the fragrant wild roses and walked on,hiding her apprehension with a calm expression. The expression she had perfected on the battlefield.
    At the door, Jasper gestured heartily. “Come in, miss. Hurry! I’ve never seen him like this, and maybe when he realizes what a lovely lady ye are, he’ll remember his society manners.”
    Sylvan could have laughed at Jasper’s naïveté, except it showed how little the invalid was understood.
    Her appearance wouldn’t calm the beast, it would provoke him, for no man liked to be weak and helpless before a woman.
    She really ought to leave before she stepped inside the house, but as she hesitated, she again experienced a moment of warmth, of homecoming. Clairmont Court sucked her in, and she stepped across the threshold.
    “Take your outer garments, miss?” A broad-beamed maid bobbed a curtsy as Sylvan removed her pelisse and handed over her gloves and hat.
    “Thank you,” Sylvan said. The wide marble entry stretched all the way to the stairs, and doors opened onto it. One doorway seemed to bulge as two men and three ladies peered at her. Sylvan’s dragging feet slid to a halt.
    An attractive woman of perhaps fifty years complained in high-pitched exasperation. “I told Garth this was a bird-witted idea. I don’t know why he doesn’t listen to me.”
    “Perhaps, Mama, because he’s the duke and you’re only a duke’s sister-in-law.”
    Sylvan glanced sharply at the young man who stood patting his mother’s hand as they stood in the doorway of a salon.
    He grinned and winked. “James Malkin, at your service, and my mother, Lady Adela Malkin.”
    “Why shouldn’t he have a nurse?” Sylvan asked the lady.
    “We don’t need a female nurse,” Lady Adela corrected. “You’re no doubt sweet-natured and gentle, but all the other nurses have treated him tentatively, when what he needs is some sense knocked into him.”
    “He’s not a bad boy. He’s just having trouble adjusting.” The whispery voice belonged to a soft-faced, silver-haired woman dressed in the height of fashion.
    Another roar of animosity blasted down the hallway, and Lady Adela flinched. “If he doesn’t gain control, he’ll have to be put away.”
    “Put away! Oh, Adela, how could you?” The second woman—Rand’s mother, Sylvan surmised—lost the battle for composure as two large tears rolled down her face.
    “Is that really likely?” Sylvan asked James, rather than the two ladies.
    “Not at all,” James said stoutly. “But I have to agree with m’mother. We’ve all tried kindness and he just gets angrier. Perhaps a bit of a jolt would help.”
    A bit of a jolt. She thought about that and started walking again. Jasper’s boots clomped on the polished floors, leading her to the corridor that turned to the left, then to a door that looked as if it belonged to a study—a study that had been converted into a downstairs bedroom. Taking an audible breath, he opened it and held it wide.
    The door. When she entered, she would be committed. As she hesitated, a candle hit the edge of the door, followed by a barrage of six more that bounced off the opposite wall. Jasper