Читать книгу Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight - Julia London, Alison DeLaine - Страница 36
ОглавлениеHE’D FORGOTTEN THE preservative.
At home in his bedchamber, James stood with his waistcoat in one hand and the preservative—pristine and unused—in the other. What utter stupidity to have thought he could touch Katherine and maintain enough coherence to take precautions. She’d been pure intoxication from the moment he’d set eyes on her.
Hell and damnation! At this very moment, his child might be growing in her womb. Enraged, he flung the preservative across the chamber. It hit the wall with a soft thwack and fell to the floor.
And even his own stupidity didn’t keep him from growing hard—again—at the memory of being inside her.
His “solution” had been entirely, completely illusory. Rather than slaking his thirst and clearing his head, making love to her in that coach only made him want her more. He had buried himself inside her, possessed her as completely as was physically possible, and still he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted her naked. Here. On his bed, without stays and hoops and yards of fabric.
Instead, within the hour he would see her at this bloody rout Lady Effy was giving, where he would smile politely and make conversation with the very devils who dreamed of foraging inside her skirts exactly as he had. It was not to be tolerated.
He paced the length of the chamber, restless and unsated. There was a chance she hadn’t conceived. His thoughts strayed into the queasy territory of a woman’s monthly flow, and he sat on the edge of the bed. Even if she had, within weeks she would be married to Deal. He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.
Marry me, Katherine. The whisper of his own words taunted him.
Good God—what had he been thinking? The answer, of course, was that he hadn’t been. Thinking. He’d been rutting like a stallion in heat. Katherine was everything he didn’t want in a wife. She was combative where he wanted peaceful, commanding where he wanted submissive, fiery where he wanted mild.
He got up and snatched the preservative off the floor and tossed it into the drawer in his dressing table. He should be thanking every bloody star in the sky that she’d rejected his reckless proposal.
In the looking glass, the man who had so blithely anticipated resolution before mocked him now. You’ll have a high time lying awake nights while Lord Deal tries to sink his half-wilted cock into that tight, wet heat. He slammed the drawer shut and glared at himself. The staff in his breeches wasn’t the only idiot in this bedchamber.
Was that it, then? A hasty farewell as he buttoned his breeches and stepped out of her coach two streets away to avoid being seen? Sod it all, he’d made a bloody mess of things. He needed to talk to her.
About what? his reflection sneered. Arranging another tryst before she becomes Lady Deal?
About...them. Their relationship. The debt. Yes—the debt! He pushed away from the dressing table and turned, shoving his hands through his hair. That bloody, goddamned debt that he’d failed to repay. The one she said she’d forgiven him for. The one, in fact, she didn’t truly believe he owed—that much had been there in her eyes this morning when the truth behind his rescue had emerged.
There was a knock on his door—Bates’s knock—and he let his hands fall. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Bates handed him a small, sealed note. “This just arrived, your lordship.”
“Thank you.” He ripped open the seal and read Philomena’s words. Tossing the note aside, he rang for his valet.
* * *
AN HOUR AFTER sunset, Katherine sat by Millicent’s window in the fading light with Anne playing cat’s cradle on her lap with a length of yarn. Millicent lay with her black-and-blue face stark against the white pillows and a dark prognosis. The doctor had done what he could—which was bloody little—but speculated that she might have sustained internal injuries and that only time would tell. Phil had sent their regrets to Lady Effy, and all that was left was to wait.
William paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, while Miss Bunsby dabbed Millie’s forehead with a damp cloth and cast him frequent looks of disgust. That alone should have been reason enough to dismiss her—to actually dismiss her, this time.
“Doctors,” William muttered, jabbing at the fire with an iron. “Never have an answer about anything.”
Anne leaned back against Katherine with a sigh. “Maybe Millie will feel better if Mr. Bogles sleeps with her.”
Katherine stroked her hair and pulled on the yarn to help Anne thread it through her fingers. “He might walk on her, sweetling. That wouldn’t feel good at all.”
“You’re right, Mama.” Anne let her hands fall into her lap, and the yarn went limp. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of bitter herbs wafting from fresh compresses Mrs. Hibbard had brought up. “If I get a bruise, I don’t want any compress.”
Katherine touched her nose. “If you get a bruise, I’ll make sure Mrs. Hibbard makes you an extra big compress to make it go away that much faster.”
Anne made a face and a noise and wiggled on Katherine’s lap just as Dodd appeared in the doorway. “Lady Ramsey is downstairs, your ladyship.”
“Send her upstairs,” Katherine told him.
Moments later she and Phil met Honoria in the adjoining dressing room. She swept into the room wringing her hands. “Katherine, I had no idea— I didn’t mean to intrude! Is she going to be all right?” Upon hearing what the doctor had said, she gasped. “Poor, poor thing! I do hope she pulls through quickly. I never would have come if I’d known, except that I had to come, because Katherine—” she gripped Katherine’s arm “—you didn’t tell me we are to be sisters.”
Phil’s brows rose. “Sisters!”
“I was out shopping for ribbons when I saw Lady Ponsby, who said she had it on good authority from her husband after this morning’s hearing that it was so. I was already obliged to drink tea this evening with Lady Kirby and Lady West—the most excruciating thing imaginable—and I wasn’t able to confirm until now! Your house was closer than James’s, so I came here straightaway.”
Things had gone utterly out of control. “Imbeciles! Have the rumormongers nothing better to do than spread lies?”
“In London?” Phil laughed. “Ha! But I am sorry, dear,” she said, taking Honoria’s arm, “unfortunately, the rumor is false.”
“La, I was afraid of that! Forgive me for being indelicate with your friend in such grave danger, but when is my brother going to see reason and ask for Katherine’s hand?”
The sound of Dodd’s scolding carried in from the hallway. “Your lordship, I beg you, you absolutely must not—”
As if on cue, James stalked into the room—heedless, as always, of what he must or must not do. “How is she?” he demanded.
“Lord Croston, your ladyship,” Dodd announced disapprovingly from the doorway.
Yes, she could see that plain enough. “At death’s door,” she told him. In a single heartbeat everything they’d done in the carriage flowed over her like hot water in a bath. Her pulse pounded in her throat. “Apparently her elder brother wasn’t as keen to welcome her home as he might have been. We know nothing more. She arrived at the door barely able to stand— How she made it all the way here, I don’t know.”
With a quiet oath, James crossed the dressing room to the bedchamber and looked in. “What does the doctor say?”
“Very little,” William said with barely concealed disdain as James entered the chamber. “They may be superficial bruises, or they may be life-threatening. Naturally, he cannot tell.”
Katherine scowled at Phil. “I see you’ve occupied yourself with pen and paper.”
Phil merely shrugged. “No need to thank me, dearest. I was already writing to India—it was nothing to dash off one more.”
“Such an awful tragedy,” Honoria said. “Absolutely terrible. I shall go to Lady Effy’s and quell the inevitable rumors that will arise with both you and James absent.”
* * *
IT WAS THE MIDDLE of the night when Katherine opened her eyes to find that she had dozed off on the daybed in Millicent’s dressing room. A figure stood facing the fireplace.
James.
She pushed herself up, and he turned. “William and Philomena are sitting with her,” he said. “She’s still sleeping. There’s been no change.” His coat lay over the back of a chair, and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows the way he used to do aboard the Possession.
She fought her way out of the sleep she hadn’t meant to fall into. Memories of the carriage ride exploded into her mind before she could stop them—his mouth on her lips, his hands on her breasts, his body buried in hers. The hasty buttoning, fastening and tucking as the carriage rolled to a stop.
He brought her a glass of water and she took it from him, careful not to touch his fingers. “You needn’t have stayed,” she said, letting a sip of cool water slide across her tongue.
“True enough.” The clock on the mantel tick-tick-ticked. In the fireplace, logs cracked and snapped.
He was so beautiful it was all she could do not to stare. And the more she tried not to think of their lovemaking, the more the memory grew, pulsing and breathing with a life of its own. “There’s nothing more to be done,” she told him. “You’re free to leave if—”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Very well.” Her fingers remembered the hard ridge of his jaw, the solid muscles on his torso rippling beneath his shirt.
His eyes lighted on her, smoldering with what they’d done together. “Was there bad blood between Millicent and her brother before she went to the Continent?” he asked.
“She didn’t like him, but that was all I ever knew.” Katherine stood and paced a few feet away, but the room was too small to offer the distance she needed. “When I met her in Venice she would have done almost anything to join my crew. Three years later, she was determined to stay in Malta and attend surgical school. When she learned we’d sailed from Malta while she slept, I had to order an extra watch for three days and nights for fear she would go over the rail with an empty cask and try to make it back.”
“A fool’s errand that would have left her dead.”
“She wanted to attend that surgical school so badly.”
“Another fool’s errand. Did you learn what made her so desperate to join you at the first?”
Katherine made a noise. “The father of the children she’d been hired to care for. Apparently he didn’t believe her duties should end once the children went to bed. I still don’t know if she was running from a threat or a fait accompli.”
“Christ.” James rubbed his forehead.
“I shall take her to Dunscore with me.” She prayed it would be soon, and not just for Millie’s sake. “I cannot turn her into an acceptable candidate for a school of medicine, but at least there she’ll be safe.”
His gaze shot to her. “Nothing about your plan has changed, then.” After what happened in the carriage, hung in the air.
“I intend to do what I must.”
Marry me, Katherine. The choice she’d rejected taunted her. He did not repeat it.
“You said nothing about your captivity at the hearing. It might have made a difference. It still could. I shall speak with Winston and ask him to reconvene the committee.”
“Good God.” She almost laughed. “Those men cared about nothing more than preventing my return to sea and putting me under the control of a man’s hand. I could have set forth every detail and the result would have been the same.” James stood in front of her now. Secret places she’d hardly been aware of before grew warm and moist beneath his gaze.
He was remembering, too. It was there in his eyes, along with the torment of his wild imaginings about her life with Mejdan al-Zayar.
“It might have elicited sympathy,” he said.
“Nothing could have done that after Lord Edrington’s revelation,” she said mirthlessly. “In the face of which you defended me.” Which only proved the depth of his guilt. It all seemed so ridiculous now. Nothing in the past could be changed.
“Yes.”
“Because of the debt.”
“Because I should have perished with the Henry’s Cross, and because everything I told the committee was true. Anyhow, I’m alive because you did not leave me to die.”
“I gave the order to do it.”
“You are an experienced sea captain, Katherine. Unlike the committee, you don’t need me to explain what that entails.” His tone was dark. Rough. “The kinds of decisions one has to make.”
She could see what he was thinking as clearly as if he’d told her. “Such as whether to engage the corsairs over the fate of a small merchant ship,” she said. The two decisions—his and hers—should have made them even, except that she had changed her mind about hers, and nothing he could have done differently would have changed the outcome of his. “Your regret is wasted on that. My experience would have been the same had you never happened upon us.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. It was a perfect time to tell him the truth about life with Mejdan al-Zayar—about crowded market vendors hawking bright scarves and sparkling bangles, about screaming with laughter as the dogs snatched Tamilla’s new silk slippers from the harem and left the slobbery pieces beneath the tangerine tree in the courtyard, about Mejdan’s daughter Kisa and her telescope. His torment would be better directed toward any number of English girls married off to men of their fathers’ choosing, who ended up slaves to a marriage bed that brought only pain and disgust.
“I am sorry I gave that order,” she said instead.
“You shouldn’t be,” he whispered harshly. “I am not sorry I gave mine. Only that I failed to execute it properly.”
“You nearly killed me, and I you. The score is even, Captain—” his eyes blazed at that “—and now that there is a solution, we may finally be free of each other.”
