Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine #3)(91)
“I’ll just leave you to it then,” Mrs. Hanson said warmly before departing.
“I’m glad to hear your sketching is going well,” Gerard said. “May I have a look after we finish?”
“Please do,” Francesca said as she poured from the china pot.
“I feel as if I haven’t seen much of you lately,” Gerard said.
She studied his face closely as she stirred cream into her tea. “Well, a lot has been going on, I guess. And I’m afraid I can become a bit withdrawn when I’m working on a project. How have you been?” she asked, her concern for his well-being after the shooting audible in her question. “I’ve never really had much of a chance to speak with you in private after what happened with Brodsik,” she said. “It must have been awful for you . . . and still is.”
“It was a shock, certainly,” Gerard said, sipping his tea, his expression sober.
“I haven’t thanked you, either.” She set down the scone she’d picked up, her appetite suddenly fleeing. “If it hadn’t been for you,” she hesitated, not wanting to sound so melodramatic as to say, I might be dead. “Who knows what havoc Brodsik might have created?” she managed to say instead.
“As much as I would prefer that the circumstances were different, I am glad I was able to do what I could to stop him,” Gerard said quietly.
“I would never wish the situation on anyone, but you responded very bravely.”
He gave a small smile and set down his teacup.
“And you? Are you suffering again, with Ian’s departure?”
She blinked at his question, given the fact he’d been avoiding saying Ian’s name in her presence earlier.
“I’m doing all right,” she said, keeping her voice even. “At least he’s agreed to keep in contact this time. With Anne and James anyway. At least we’re not fearful for his life or well-being.”
“Yes, well that’s something, of course.” He paused. She sensed he was trying to broach a delicate subject.
“What is it, Gerard?”
“I’m well aware that you, Anne, and James know of some kind of secret about why Ian became so emotionally disturbed last summer and disappeared. And I understand,” he said, holding up his hand in a placating manner when she opened her mouth to try and explain her silence yet again. “I value your discretion. I’m not trying to pry. It’s just that . . . I came upon Lucien and Ian talking together in the sitting room a few days before he left Belford Hall. They were talking about a man called Trevor Gaines. Ian has apparently bought his house and has been conducting some sort of search in it. I only bring it up because I was very concerned by Ian’s tone. He sounded quite . . . intense. I won’t go so far as to say ‘mad’ but he certainly sounded obsessed with the topic.”
Francesca swallowed thickly, shocked, absorbing the disturbing news while Gerard studied her. Ian had bought Trevor Gaines’s house?
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. It’s just . . . I assumed that Ian’s secret that you’ve all been guarding is somehow related to this man Gaines. I wanted to assure myself that if you, Anne, and James were aware of whatever Ian is involved in, that you were also aware of how . . . unbalanced he sounds on the topic.”
“Unbalanced?” Francesca asked warily. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Even Lucien was uncomfortable while they talked. I could tell. Who wouldn’t be, with Ian ranting the way he was. He sounded very angry, but for the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend at what his fury was aimed.” His laugh sounded uneasy. “For a moment, I thought he sounded a little like . . .”
“What?” Francesca asked, her alarm mounting. The idea of Ian purchasing Trevor Gaines’s home, searching in it. . . . Had he been living in that monster’s residence this whole time? Ice water seemed to shoot through her veins at the thought. She shuddered, placing her hand on her chest when an uncomfortable spasm went through it.
“Gerard, what did you think Ian sounded like?” she asked, her voice growing high pitched.
Gerard winced. “Well he sounded a little like my cousin Helen,” he admitted uneasily.
Francesca stared at him, shock making her flesh tingle. “Gerard, that’s a horrible thing to say. Ian is as sane as anyone I know. He’s been through a hell of a lot in a short period of time. He’s had to deal with more than most could endure. More than you know.”
“Francesca, please don’t go,” Gerard said when she abruptly set her napkin on the table and stood. “I realize that Ian doesn’t often appear the way I observed. That’s why I wanted to make sure I brought it up to someone who has an idea of whatever he’s been experiencing for the past half year. I was aware that Lucien and he were discussing something secretive by their manner, but I’d never seen Ian behave in such a . . . an irrational way. Although,” he added under his breath, “surely you’ve noticed he’s been rather . . . frayed at times during this visit. Anne and James certainly have. Actually, I have seen him act oddly one other time in his life,” he said, pausing in reflection. “When he first came to Belford as a child, he could be very moody and unpredictable. Sometimes he reminded me of one of those feral children, to be honest. Not to that degree, of course, but still . . . It was tragic to see it, imagining what he must have endured with only a madwoman for a companion for the first ten years of his life. For a moment when I saw him there in the sitting room, I was reminded of that child. I thought he was going to strike out at Lucien like a cornered animal.”