Crazy For You

“How insane?” Crazy was relative, considering I’d spent the last four years jump-frogging from one body to the next until I appeased whatever Magical Muckity-Muck I’d pissed off in my real life. Thanks to the curse, I’d seen a whole lot of crazy. Fainting spells and a few eccentricities, I could deal with.

“Pardon?”

“Exactly how crazy am I?” I pressed a hand to the radiating pain just under my rib cage. It was a twinge while I was on the floor. Now that I was standing, it had grown.

“You spent six months under a physician's care.”

“So, pretty crazy.”

“Bordering on the criminal.” He wore a puzzled expression. “Do you not remember the events of the last year?” Bracken cocked his head and didn’t bother to disguise his open suspicion.

“I don’t remember anything before waking up, soaking wet, downstairs.” The criminal part caught my attention.

“A year ago, you were Lady Poppy, only daughter of Earl Hatcher. Your mother pledged your hand to your brutish first cousin, Lord Hatcher. He inherited the title on your father’s death. It was considered a good match as the union would keep the title and the inheritance within the family blood line." He stopped. "Are you feeling well?"

"Is it hot in here?" The lack of air in the musty room made my head spin. I leaned against the window sill and sucked in a couple of breaths. "Please, go on."

"It was an elaborate ceremony well attended by the Ton. Your godfather, the Duke of Craymoor, gave the bride away.” He paced the room slowly, his attention flicking from me to the window and finally to the door. “Ring a bell?”

I shook my head. “Doesn’t sound like much of a match.”

“Apparently, your thoughts were the same at the time.” He stopped in front of me. “You killed Lord Hatcher on your wedding night."

Poppy was a murderer? Could this assignment get any worse?

"The only reason you have not been remanded to live out the rest of your days in a sanitorium is your connection to the Duke," he explained. "Duke Craymoor convinced the high court you had suffered one of your spells during the murder and could not possibly be responsible for your actions.”

Not personally responsible. The words didn’t seem to cover the kind of crazy Poppy obviously suffered. Still, it had me thinking. The guy in front of me must be very desperate to take his chances with a girl like Poppy.

“Aren’t you afraid, Bracken? What if Popp--, I mean, what if I have a relapse on our wedding night?” Although why a girl would want to put a halt to anything which involved a naked Bracken was more than I could fathom at the moment.

“I have considered the possibility." He quirked a brow as an unreadable emotion contorted his masculine features. "I am certain the rest of civilized society has also taken my personal risk into consideration and come to their own conclusions on the matter. No doubt they have calculated the measure of my debt, as well.” He clenched his jaw and looked out the window behind me. "Beggars cannot be choosers, my dear Poppy."

“You’re still willing to marry me?”

“Yes.” He paused to hold my gaze for a long moment before he crossed slowly to the door. “There is little choice for either of us on the matter. But let me assure you, at the first sign of murderous intent, I shall have no recourse but to have you committed to Bedlam Asylum for the rest of your days.”

“That’s so comforting. Really. I’m all warm and fuzzy inside.” God, why did Elvira put me in Poppy? It was clear the girl was better off dead. Wicked Stepfather. Brutish dead husband. No mother to guide her ... If she weren't already dead, I'd poison her myself. Except I was very much alive inside this dead crazy woman. And I wanted to stay that way.

The pain in my chest had dulled. There was heat and something sticky between me and the torturous corset. But the urge to confide in Bracken was gone. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until I reached the safety and privacy of my room.

“I’d like to go to my room, now.”

“All in good time, my dear.” Bracken opened the door and motioned for me to precede him. “First, we shall investigate the lawn. Perhaps we shall find a clue to bring us closer to who is intent on killing you.”