The train rattled and swayed while she dwelled on that…until a connected thought arose, one that made her inwardly frown.
Whyhad Devlin told her he loved her?
Why bother if he didn’t? Why make the effort that, looking back over recent weeks, she could see he had to spend more time with her, hours during which he’d encouraged her to draw closer and become more immersed in his life and, conversely, had seized every opportunity to draw closer to her?
Her frown materialized. That made no sense, yet above all, Devlin was a highly rational man.
He’d also never been a cruel man. She wouldn’t have said he had it in him.
So why tell her something he knew wasn’t true? Why tell her something he didn’t believe?
She blinked and raised her head as another thought rose above the miasma of hurt and misery fogging her faculties. He hadn’t simply told her he loved her; he’d shown her as well. And some of those incidents—such as him punching Child—had been as much a surprise to him as to her.
Was she reading too much into his behavior? In those incidents, large and small, had he been motivated by jealousy or merely by possessiveness? She was well aware that the latter didn’t necessarily stem from love, especially within the aristocracy.
Yet still…why, after five years of marital harmony, had he gone out of his way to rock their boat and change her understanding of the basis of their marriage?
As far as she could see, he’d had no reason to do so.
She still felt deeply hurt but, now, also puzzled and confused. She’d lived alongside Devlin for five and more years; she couldn’t have so completely misread his character over all that time. Could she?
Then she recalled their lovemaking of the previous night. She remembered the sense of increasing closeness, of escalating intimacy and deeper, more intense emotional connection. And the sure and certain feeling that he’d dispensed with some emotional shield.
She hadn’t imagined that. Hadn’t mistaken or misinterpreted what had been between them in those long, heady moments.
Andthen, to cap it all, he’d deliberately and with intent broken the habit he’d established and clung to for all the years of their marriage and remained by her side to wake her at dawn…with love. With an intense demonstration of his love for her and hers for him.
Why, why, why?
Nothing any longer made sense.
A horrendous squealingscreechsplit the night, high-pitched and drawn out.
CRASH!
She was flung violently forward. Instinctively, she spread her arms to shield the children. The cases and small trunks they’d stored in the luggage racks rained down on her back and head.
A horrible grinding, groaning mingled with a succession of loud bangs and a series of shuddering, juddering thuds.
Then everything stopped.
For an instant, the only sound to reach her ears was the pervasive hiss of escaping steam.
Then screams rent the night.
Pandemonium followed. Shouts and yells came from farther up and back in the train, and footsteps pounded along the corridor outside the compartment door.
Therese hauled in a breath and started to slowly straighten, then Parker was there, lifting the cases and small trunks that had landed on Therese’s back and stacking them on the seats she and Therese had occupied until Therese could draw back enough to check the children.
Nanny Sprockett had clutched Horry to her cushioning bosom; the little girl’s eyes were wide, drinking in all she could see, but as no one in their compartment had started screaming, she hadn’t, either.
Therese switched her gaze to Spencer and Rupert, hoping she hadn’t hurt them when she’d fallen on them. Both stared back at her, as wide-eyed as their sister and—thank God—transparently unharmed. Therese swallowed a rush of near-debilitating relief.
Someone ran down the corridor, banging on each compartment door. “Everyone out! Everyone out!”
“Mama?” Spencer whispered.
Therese managed a reassuring smile and leaned forward to drop kisses on his and Rupert’s foreheads. “Hold on, my darlings.” She glanced briefly at her staff; blank-faced, Parker was busily stacking the fallen luggage on the seat, while Nanny was speaking bracingly to the nursemaids, instructing both girls on what they should carry when leaving the train. Therese looked at Spencer and Rupert and met both boys’ eyes. “All of us are all right. We’ll get out shortly, and you must be sure to stay with Nanny and Gillian and Patty. Can you be brave and do that?”
