Free Tanya Anne Crosby by The Impostor's Kiss Page A

questioning glance—or at least, it seemed a question. At times Fiona was certain Chloe must know she was lying. She averted her gaze and Chloe returned to the task of massaging her legs.
    Guilt gnawed at her.
    Every day the lies seemed to grow in weight. This morning the burden was unbearable. It seemed one lie conceived another and another. Of late, she could scarce even look at her own son. What sort of mother did that make her?
    She was utterly torn.
    She had the power to change their circumstances, but if she told Ian the truth, she risked losing him. And there was no guarantee Julian would give him the same treatment he’d given Merrick. After all these years, she just didn’t know Julian anymore.
    Nor did she wish to risk Merrick’s inheritance. She knew Julian had gone to great lengths to ensure his bloodline was not questioned.
    For the first time Fiona paused to consider the woman Julian had wed in her place. In all these years, she hadn’t dared, because anger had been her ally. God forgive her, she hadn’t wanted to like or feel sorry for Julian’s wife. But what must it feel like to have someone else’s child foisted upon you? To know that he would inherit over your own blood? Had it made her bitter? Sad?
    Fiona knew that Julian’s wife had never conceived. Had he married her in name only, keeping her at length? Or was it she who had rebuffed Julian?
    Fiona didn’t want to say he deserved it. No matter how much Julian had hurt her, no one deserved to suffer all their lives. She only prayed Merrick had not suffered a scorned woman’s wrath.
    Fiona stared at the hands gently working her legs until they blurred through the mist in her eyes. Chloe, too, seemed lost in her own reverie. This morning, Fiona was grateful for the silence.
    Fiona considered the young woman standing before her.
    Chloe wasn’t a princess by any means, but if her son could chance to win her heart, it would remain true to him forevermore. That was all Fiona’s father had ever truly wanted for her—a good man to cherish her. That’s what she wanted for her son.
    Having lived on both sides of the proverbial fence, Fiona understood the value of love versus money. In the end, money didn’t keep one warm at night, nor did a title put food upon one’s table.
    Yes, it was true. Once upon a time Fiona had dreamed of wedding a prince and living in splendor. Now she realized that too often values were misplaced. From the day Ian had come into the world, she’d wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.
    And he’d been such a happy babe.
    As a boy, he’d lost some of his joie de vivre.
    As a man, he was hardly ever content.
    Her son was, unfortunately, somewhat of a crusader. He seemed to feel it his lot in life to better the lives of others. That in itself wasn’t so troubling; it was more the way he chose to go about it. His secret life was a mother’s nightmare.
    She knew precisely what he was up to—and he knew she knew it, as well, but there was little she could do about it. She’d already tried and failed.
    What had begun as a simple fib to draw him outand to ease her suspicions had become a horrible sentence. Not only were her worst fears confirmed, her lies had further imprisoned her. And worse, sitting in that devilish contraption all day long was making her an invalid in truth. Some days, she could scarce feel any sensation left in her legs.
    Thank God for Chloe.
    “I have been thinking,” Chloe announced as she continued to massage her limbs.
    “Yes, dear?”
    “There is a treatment I read about in last year’s published lectures—quite experimental, but perhaps worth a thought.”
    “What is it?”
    “Vital air.”
    Fiona furrowed her brow. “Vital air?”
    “Yes, there was this man, apparently, who was quite weak. As a matter of treatment, his physician put him on a course of vital air. During the time he respired it, he felt a comfortable heat, which distributed itself through all his limbs. In mere