Stephanie Laurens Read Online Free PDF

manifested on the barge, six full days before the wedding. And you’ve seen what it’s like—she draws back, pulls back. But—and this is the critically important part—her reactions have nothing to do with her feelings, or what she truly wants. She’s horrified when she snaps out of it, but while the panic is on her, she’s not actually thinking at all. Frances is very much in love with Frederick, and she very definitely wants to marry him—the panic attacks don’t in any way reflect or alter her feelings.”
    “Hmm.” He frowned. “So we could characterize these attacks as an extreme case of bridal nerves and nothing more.”
    Nell nodded. “We could.” She smoothed one hand along the arm of the chair. “Mama and I suspect that, in the circumstances, and with four days still to go, we need to explain at least some of this to Frederick. He’s already noticed, and he must be wondering.”
    “He is.” Robert met her eyes as she glanced up. When she arched her brows, he hesitated, then nodded. “All right. I’ll speak with him and make sure he understands. Which leads to my next question, which will also be Frederick’s next question—how should he behave during these attacks?”
    “Essentially as my father did. Frederick won’t be able to ignore the attacks, but he absolutely mustn’t react to them by drawing back himself. That only gives the attacks a sort of internal credence, and will most likely make things worse. He needs to stand firm and not let Frances physically pull away. If he accepts that the attack is happening, but that it’s nonsensical and irrelevant and will be over soon, and simply smiles, nods, speaks soothingly, and goes on as if the attack hasn’t happened, that’s the surest way to snap Frances out of it, and all will be well.”
    Robert spent some moments digesting that, then nodded. “All right. As Frederick is deeply attached to Frances, I don’t foresee any problem in enlisting his aid, especially as this is purely a case of temporary and understandable nervy panics.” He saw Nell’s lips twitch upward, and permitted himself a self-deprecating smile; he was, indeed, already framing the situation in diplomatic language. “Let’s assume we—me, you, and Frederick—are all apprised and acting in concert. I assume we can count on your parents if need be?”
    “Yes, but they will only be with us during the evening events.”
    “Indeed. So is there anything we can do to . . . avoid the attacks, or minimize their severity?”
    “We—Mama and I—think distraction might work. If we can fill Frances’s days with events that keep her actively engaged and entertained, we believe that will reduce the scope for an attack.”
    He nodded. “That has a certain logic. What events are most likely to engage her interest?”
    “As Mama reminded me, Frances and I are much alike, so what would work for me . . .”
    Frances and I are much alike. Robert’s brain seized on the words, focused on them—and their implications. All of him stilled. The Vayne family failing had manifested in Frances as a pulling back, a drawing back from the man she loved, even though she loved him and wanted to marry him. Frances’s attacks had started earlier, further ahead of the wedding, than her family had expected. And no Vayne lady had ever escaped the curse.
    Nell was as much of a Vayne as Frances. And Nell and Frances were much alike in many ways . . .
    While Nell sat in the chair and talked, listing various excursions and events she felt would provide suitable distraction, and some part of his mind listened and cataloged, and he nodded every now and then, most of his mind, certainly all of his attention, followed her earlier revelations to the inescapable conclusion . . .
    A conclusion that rocked him. That shattered his perceptions of their past, and reformed them.
    Leaving him with a new and novel perspective.
    A much more accurate view of how things had been.
    Dragging a breath