Chapter 33

“LORD ALASTAIR ROGAN is my father,” Nora confirmed.

Jack’s eyes bulged. His stomach fell to his feet and anger began to roll through him.

“Your father?” Jack asked incredulously. “Your own father is the one that wants to kill you? How could you not have told me this?”

“We didn’t trust each other. At first, I didn’t think it real-ly mattered for you to know. You were my bodyguard. I thought all you needed to know was that someone was out to harm me. Whether or not he wants me dead, I am often not sure. He wants the stone and has clearly ordered his men to employ whatever means they deem necessary to obtain it.”

Nothing could have shocked Jack more. Lord Rogan, the man who wanted to destroy the one person who had—quite without him realizing it—become the central focus of his life, was her father. Jack had trouble connecting the thoughts in his mind. So many things barreled through it.

“Does Ben know this?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why did he not say something to me?”

“I imagine he thought it was something the two of us should discuss ourselves.”

“Horseshit! In the future,” Jack seethed, “this is exactly the sort of little detail you need to volunteer.”

“I might have if you would bother to speak to me, you big oaf,” Nora shot back with a stamp of her foot. “I might be inclined to share everything, if you would only trust me.”
Trust her? She had kept the most important detail to herself! Jack shook his head. His original belief had been that the reasons surrounding her need for protection were not relevant. The only thing that had mattered was that someone was after her and that she needed a protector.

A Warrior.

But could he really effectively protect her without knowing the details of the drama entangling her life? Did he really think it was possible to stay removed from it all? He had thought that once. He realized then that it was not a matter of what he believed at all, but what she believed, what the lunatic Lord Rogan believed, and what was resulting from it.

Jack strode purposefully toward her. He grabbed her elbow and pushed her to a stool in the kitchen, forcefully shoving her to sit upon it. Of course, he would not physically harm her, no matter how angry he was at that moment, but he still needed her to see how serious he was.

“Speak now. Do not leave any details out. Do you understand me? Leave nothing out,” he ordered.

“I was born in a village in England called Merrhein. My father, Alastair Rogan, was—well, is—the second son of Henry Rogan, Duke of Warwick. As the second child, he inherited the title of Lord. He married Lady Sarah Kensworth. She was a widower, and my father took over her land upon their marriage. My father loved my mother very much and she him. He was not always this way. He loved her, you see, to the point of obsession.”

As she spoke, Jack began to pace continuously back and forth, back and forth, not once breaking his stride.

“I am the second child of their marriage. Their first, a boy, is two years older than I. His name is Alastair for our father, but we always called him Fox.”

“The Fox?” he asked.

Nora tilted her head in interest, nodded, and continued. “He was always clever, and he sees things, things that are going to happen—visions. We used to say he had ‘eyes like a Fox,’ but of course that is not what it was.”

“Of course not,” Jack muttered and continued to pace. “Because that would not make any sense at all.” But he was uneasy. He knew about things such as these. He had dreams, detailed dreams that he could not explain. He had dreamed of her, of all of them. It sounded like he shared a similar ability with her brother.

Nora ignored his sarcasm and went on with her story, as requested.

“He had the sight,” Nora said between clenched teeth. “Everyone knew and whispered about it, but nobody spoke out loud regarding his talent. He was the heir. At first, we feared if King George found out, he would take father’s land and money, banish us, or lock us in the Tower. But then my parents were afraid that instead, the king would take Fox for his own purposes. Somebody who could see the future and predict things would be useful to the most powerful ruler in the world, would they not? The thought of it would send my mother into hysterics, and so, my father would not allow anyone to speak of Fox’s abilities. Fox, always the clever one, learned how to discuss his visions without actually discussing them. He could lead a conversation in the direction he needed it to go to convey without saying specifically what he had seen.

“By all outward accounts, Fox was quite normal. He was intelligent, handsome, charismatic, popular with women, titled, and heir to one of the largest fortunes in England. My father had made wise investments on the advice of my brother.”

“I can imagine,” Jack said dryly. “When did everything turn to pot, Nora?”

“Fox saw something that my father felt was unacceptable,” Nora said quietly.

“And that was?”

“My mother’s death,” she whispered.

He knew. Somehow, Jack knew. He was surprised when he felt her pain. He was even more surprised when the longing to comfort her returned.

“When my brother told Father that our mother would catch an influenza that she would not recover from, our father went into a rage. He accused Fox of witchcraft, conspiring against our parents and the king—all manner of horrible things. Their quarrel could be heard all through the manor. But what Fox sees always comes to pass. Our mother became sick within the year and died.”

“That is a tragic story, my lady, and I don’t mean to sound crass,” said Jack gruffly, “but when does the stone come in?”