Читать книгу Wild Heart - Lori Brighton - Страница 7

The sobs echoed in Ella’s mind over and over until she wanted to tear the hair from her scalp merely to feel something other than the sorrow that had embedded into her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut and bent the bolster around her head to cover her ears. But the action provided no relief from the emotional onslaught. If anything, closing her eyes heightened the cries of horror and flashes of blood swirling through her mind in a fog of painful memories.

His memories.

Not the past life of a deer, a rabbit, a bird. But memories of a boy who’d seen much more than any soul should witness.

You must be brave, Leo. The woman whispered over and over through her mind. You must be brave. His mum, she was sure, for she could see the woman with her golden hair and blue gaze as clearly as if she were standing in front of her. And just as quickly as she’d appeared, another memory flashed to mind…the same woman, on the ground with a pool of scarlet blood beneath her.

Ella choked on a sob and dared to open her eyes. Gray dawn’s boney fingers crept through the cracks in the drapes, warning of daylight’s imminent arrival. Nothing else remained…no bodies lying in pools of blood, no men fighting, merely a richly furnished room.

Her head ached with exhaustion. No wild animal had provided her with such painful memories. Only a human could store such grief, such horror…horror that frightened her as much as it tore at her gut.

She couldn’t stay here with these people. She couldn’t stay here with that man. She couldn’t stay here with such confusing emotions stabbing through her mind with every beat of her heart. Emotions she’d never felt before and knew were wrong.

She slipped from her bed, grasping the post when her weak knees refused to lock. Anger and sorrow hovered inside the castle like an oppressive fog. Whatever had happened in the past, she wanted no part.

She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her carpetbag, the strong sturdiness of the wooden grip bringing strength to her backbone. Without dwelling on her fear, she slipped into the hall. What would she do if she ran into Leo in these dark passages? Fear tickled the back of her neck like a whisper of warning. Silently, she slipped from shadow to shadow, making her way along the corridor. Reaching the steps, she peered down the sweeping staircase to the door.

“He’s disappeared again, my lord,” a male voice floated up to the second floor.

Ella knelt behind the banister and peeked between the railings. An early ray of sunlight pierced the small stained-glass window at the front of the entryway, splashing the hardwood floor with brilliant colors—a rainbow out of place in the dark and dreary home.

“His bed hasn’t been slept in?” Lord Roberts asked, stepping into view.

“No, my lord,” the butler replied.

The old man sighed. “He’ll turn up, Samson. He always does.”

The servant bowed and left. Lord Roberts stared at the door as if willing his grandson to appear. Finally, he shuffled down the hall. Pity sliced through Ella, and she took her lower lip between her teeth. Blast it, she wouldn’t feel sorry for a man who lied. Leo was no child, but a man. How could Lord Roberts possibly think she’d take the position? Her reputation would be shattered. Even if no one else seemed to care, she did.

Without a backward glance, she tripped down the steps and out the front door. Free, she hiked up her skirt and layers of crinoline and raced down the drive. Birds darted out of trees, stirred by her anxiety. She didn’t stop until she saw the iron gates ahead. Winded, she dropped her bag and leaned against the bars, gasping for air. She jerked on the handles. The gates didn’t budge. Locked.

She was trapped.

“No,” she cried, resting her forehead on the cool metal for the briefest of moments.

She pushed away, stumbling back. Surely there was somewhere to escape. She snatched up her bag and followed the fence into a patch of trees.

“Ridiculous,” she whispered, pulling up her skirt and stepping over a root. Was the entire property fenced? Unease made her skin crawl. Surely they didn’t keep their servants under lock and key? Ignoring the anxiety, she brushed aside a low-hanging branch and spotted a narrow trail.

“Thank God.”

Brown sparrows chirped and darted through the trees, the only sign of life in the still forest. A soft snap rent the air. Before she could react, her bag fell with a thud to the ground. She stared at the handle, broken off in her palm.

“No!” she cried out, dropping the handle. “No, no, no!” She collapsed onto the forest floor. Petticoats and skirts spilled onto the dirt, leaves stuck to clothing that only yesterday morning Fran had so carefully folded. Ella choked on a sob.

She had nowhere to go.

Nowhere.

Warm tears slipped down her cheeks. She pulled up her legs and rested her forehead on her knees, too tired to move or care. What would she do? Where would she go? A sudden throb pulsed at the base of her core. Ella stiffened, not daring to raise her head. The forest was quiet.

Too quiet.

Turning her senses inward, she recognized him immediately. A warm trail of need spiraled in her body, lighting her soul. The same heated sensation that pulled her under in the ballroom. She focused on that emotion, trying to make sense of the desire. Her body began to ache, spreading down her limbs and pooling in the pit of her belly. But underneath that need pulsed an overwhelming sense of anger and despair. Trembling, she lifted her head.

Ella couldn’t prevent the gasp from escaping her lips. He sat at the foot of a tree and watched her from the shadows, his face unreadable. Dear Lord, would he murder her right where she knelt, where no one could hear her screams? Surely…surely he wouldn’t harm her. Lord Roberts said he wouldn’t. Then again, Lord Roberts had said many things that weren’t exactly true. Desperately, she attempted to make sense of her emotions, to read the man’s intentions, but fear made deciphering impossible.

Like an agile cat, Leo rolled to his feet. He started toward her and Ella couldn’t prevent the slight squeak that escaped her lips. Slowly, as if she were some wild animal he feared frightening, he knelt in front of her. A long, dark lock caressed the side of his jaw. Their eyes met and her body tingled, starting at her toes and shivering its way up her legs like a caress from an invisible lover. She couldn’t seem to look away. In those eerie amber eyes, she could feel his pain, but there was something else…a deep aching need…for what?

Gently, he reached out and brushed his thumb across the side of her cheek. Her mouth went dry. Yet, at the same time, the touch sent a comforting warmth through her body and she knew no harm would come from his large hands. When he pulled away, dirt marked his thumb.

Ella flushed, shifting backward, away from his nearness and the uncomfortable feelings he produced. “I…I don’t usually sit on the forest floor.”

He didn’t respond. Her gaze narrowed; did he understand her?

“I—I must look a fright.” She reached up to her cheek and felt the rough texture of dirt embedded in her skin.

His gaze moved from her eyes, lower to her lips, even lower still so that he scanned her entire body. The heat covering her skin burst into flames. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to scoot back even further.

Suddenly, he reached out and before she could move, before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms. Stiff, Ella reluctantly settled against his hard body, too afraid to protest. Her heart thundered as he carried her through the forest. What was he thinking? Under her knees and around her back, she felt the hard muscles of his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She didn’t dare move.

He ducked under a branch and she tucked her head to his shoulder, avoiding the leaves. She didn’t understand this man, didn’t understand his actions. His heart beat against her cheek, strong and healthy. Unwillingly, she breathed in his scent and felt as if she were falling into a warm pool of earthy pine and salty air. A lovely scent she would never have expected.

She peeked at him through her lashes. His jaw was square, lightly sprinkled with dark hair as if he hadn’t shaved in some time. Her fingers tingled, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the scruff just to see how it felt.

Slowly, her attention moved to his mouth and that heat flared low in her belly. She sucked in a breath. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top. Were they soft? Or as hard as they looked? She jerked her gaze away. Blimey! What was she doing allowing him to carry her? She should demand he release her at once.

The roar of water broke through the pounding of her heart. A small waterfall rushed over moss-covered rocks while ferns as tall as her waist thrived around the crystalline spring. She’d never seen anything so wonderful. Lady Buckley’s small estate certainly didn’t hold such beauty.

“It’s stunning,” she whispered, forgetting her unease.

His hold loosened, and she slid down his hard body, each inch sending warm currents over her skin. Had her feet landed, or was she floating? Her fingers dug into his hard biceps for support, and finally she met his gaze. Lightning shot through to her core. She stumbled back, gasping for air.

Distance. She needed distance from the man in order to gather her thoughts, control her emotions and power. She scampered onto a large boulder and knelt by the pool. Away from him, she could finally breathe, finally think. She scooped up water and rubbed at her face, taking relief in the cool liquid. Why? Why did he produce such emotions from her? It made no sense.

He didn’t move, but she knew he watched. She could feel his attention burning into her back. She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dried her cheek. Finally, she turned to face him.

“Can you speak?”

He didn’t respond.

Peering into his amber eyes, she tried to discern the truth. She felt curiosity from the man, anger, resolution. So many conflicting emotions her mind spun. But when she tried to delve deeper…to soothe the beast, nothing. Pain sliced through her head, and she cringed, sitting back on her heels. Why was it she could easily read the minds of animals and control the beasts of the forests, but this man seemed impossible to tame? But then, she’d never been able to read a human and wasn’t quite sure of the rules.

“Can you say any words, at all?” she tried again. A light and airy breeze rushed through her body. Humor? Was he amused? Blast, but she could see nothing in his eyes.

“Leo,” she heard and spun around to see Lord Roberts push through the branches. “Thank God, I was worried….” His gaze landed on her, and he stilled. “Ella, I thought you had left.”

She flushed and twisted the handkerchief in her hands, horrified to be caught with Lord Roberts’s grandson in such an intimate setting. “I did.”

“Oh, I see.”

An uncomfortable silence settled around them. Leo stood and without a word disappeared into the trees, melting into the shadows.

“Where’s he going?” she asked, stumbling to her feet.

Lord Roberts stared after his grandson, the area between his bushy white brows creased with obvious worry. “I don’t know. I never do, with him.” Those pale blue eyes pierced her. “Ella dear, I know you must be angry.” Ella stiffened and steeled herself for his words of apology. “But you must understand, the way he’s reacted to you…he’s never reacted to anyone as well before.”

“How many others have there been?”

Lord Roberts sighed. “Over a dozen at last count. Men and women. The men were literally thrown out of the house.”

Ella sucked in a breath, her hands tightening on her twisted handkerchief.

“Or,” he continued, “they were too frightened and were easily overwhelmed. The women, well, most just fled the first time they met him.”

Honestly, she didn’t blame the others for running. Was she insane not to follow their lead? Her gaze went once again to those shadowy trees. There was something about Leo—a lost soul begging to be found—that pulled to her. Could he truly be as horrible as he seemed? He’d been so gentle when he’d carried her. And when she looked into his eyes, well, she felt as if there were so much more to this man. “Lord Roberts, what’s wrong with him?”

He sighed and with a monogrammed handkerchief, dabbed a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Physically, nothing that the doctors can uncover. His mind, ah, his mind. My grandson’s childhood is a mysterious void that has left him damaged. What happened and how it affected Leo no one but he can tell. I can only imagine what horrors he must have endured.”

But she knew. Vaguely, but she still knew. Death, horror, sorrow so deep it was shocking he’d lived through the pain. Still, how could Lord Roberts not know? “But—”

Lord Roberts held up his hand, stopping her. “I do not know how I can convince you. But I will do whatever it takes to bring my grandson back to me and I believe you are the one who can help. Whatever you want. Perhaps a cottage by the sea?”

Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know?

“Perhaps assistance and rest for the friend who works for Lady Buckley? I noticed how close you seemed. I will buy you a cottage and send her there right now, Ella. I will hire a servant to take care of her. I promise. And if you stay here for one year, I will make sure you own that cottage in the end.”

She gazed over the man’s shoulder to see that the fence had ended. She could leave, dash through the trees, and never return. But how would she survive with no letter of recommendation? If she stayed, Fran wouldn’t have to work. Her health would improve, and they’d live out their dream. It’d seemed like an impossible fantasy, until now. She looked at the trail where Leo had disappeared. He’d had his chance to harm her, yet hadn’t.

“Six months,” she blurted.

Lord Roberts smiled. “Done. I’ll have my solicitors find you a cottage today and I’ll send the carriage for your friend.”

“Lord Roberts,” she called out as he moved to leave. “I must know. Did you uncover my desires in order to manipulate me into staying?”

“Not manipulate you, Ella. You’ll realize in the end that this is for your benefit as well. I promise you, my grandson is not the monster you think.”

Ella’s gaze slid back to the trees. Somewhere, out there, he hid. She probed the woods with her mind and felt his tormented soul, hidden beneath the surface. Not a monster yet, but she had no doubt, should he choose, the darkness could be his undoing.

Ella sank back into her down pillows and closed her eyes. Her headache had dissipated, but the buzzing remained deep in her core as if a million bees were waiting to be released. She pressed her hands to her stomach. If she would stay, she must learn to block the man’s emotions for her own sanity and survival. In all honesty, she didn’t quite understand how he could survive such haunting memories and emotions. Surely, they’d kill a lesser man. It said something about his character, and she couldn’t help but be impressed with Leo.

A sea breeze swept in from the open window and soothed her frazzled thoughts. Outside, a gull called, the sound a familiar remnant of a long ago memory. Finally, Fran would see the ocean and relax until her health improved. Somehow she’d make this work. She could last six months. She must for her sake and for Fran’s.

A soft knock broke into her thoughts. With a groan, Ella slipped from her bed and smoothed down her serviceable gray skirt. “Come in.”

A maid peeked inside, the white cap upon her head making her unrecognizable from the many other maids she’d met. “Sorry, miss, but he’s still abed.”

Exhaustion flared with irritation, brewing in an explosive mixture. She would never have tolerated such nonsense from Lady Buckley’s children. Blast, but she was tired, tired of being treated so disrespectfully by everyone she seemed to come into contact with. “Still? But it’s four o’clock!”

“Yes, miss. But the young master usually sleeps well into the day.”

“Of all the…tell his man to wake him.”

The maid’s gaze grew wide. “Oh no, miss, we can’t disturb the master.”

Ella crossed her arms over her chest and clenched her jaw. Well, really. She’d been waiting for him all day. She was tired of his emotions, tired of the pain, tired of his games. Ridiculous. She’d had plenty of practice with spoiled children and he would not hold the upper hand. Time to start treating the young master like she would any ward.

“Where are his quarters?”

The maid paled. “Down the hall.”

“Very well, if he won’t come to me, I’ll go to him.” She brushed past the gawking girl and out into the corridor.

I can do this, she thought, halfway there. After all, he’s nothing more than an overgrown lad.

She tilted her chin and continued. And inconsiderate lads should be taught better.

Reaching his room, she took in a deep breath. It is time he grew up.

She pounded on the door.

No answer.

She pounded louder.

Still no answer. Clenching her jaw and praying for protection, she tugged open the door.

Darkness enveloped her.

Ella waited for her eyes to adjust. Slowly, shapes emerged. A thin line of light seeped between the thick curtains along one side of the wall. Leaving the door wide, she wove her way between shadowed objects to the windows. She took in a deep breath, steeled herself against the onslaught of Leo’s anger, and wrenched aside the curtains, splashing the room with brilliant light. She blinked, stumbling back and covering her eyes with her hand.

A soft grumble resounded from the corner of the room, and she could feel his mind, alert, waiting to pounce. Had he been awake even before she’d entered? Ella spun around to face a massive four-poster bed. A blanket lay in a crumpled heap, blocking the occupant from view. She took a hesitant step forward and peeked over the mound of covers. The bed was empty.

Confused, Ella turned. “Leo?”

No answer.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, she started forward again, wondering if perhaps he was hidden behind a pillow.

“Leo, it’s time to wake. You’ve slept away the entire day.”

From behind her, a growl erupted. Ella spun around. He pushed himself up from the floor in front of the fireplace, his bare chest gleaming in the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Only a thin blanket made his bed. Quickly, she jerked her gaze up to his. His anger slammed against her, making her weave on her feet. Ella’s heart froze in her chest. His nostrils flared, and his lip curled into a menacing snarl. His eyes, dear Lord, had his eyes turned to fire? She wanted to flee, yet couldn’t seem to move.

His bare feet hit the floor with a thud, his long muscled legs naked from the knees down. His dark hair hung loose to his jaw line. Beside the strange short trousers he wore, nothing else covered his golden body. He stalked toward her, muscles bunching, flexing, under tanned skin.

Run! Run! Her mind screamed, yet she couldn’t seem to move. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! Just treat him like any of my wards. Except none of her past wards had been tall and muscled. He stopped a foot from her, so close she swayed, overwhelmed by his presence.

Lifting his arm, he pointed toward the door.

“Get out!” he demanded.

Without hesitation, Ella spun around and raced from the room. Slamming the door shut, she leaned against the wall and took in great gulps of air. Dear Lord, he’d kill her, he would. A loud crash shook the floor. Ella gasped, lifted her skirts, and scurried down the hall. She couldn’t do this…she couldn’t…she wouldn’t. She’d have to find another way to help Fran. She reached for her bedroom door when realization made her freeze.

He’d spoken.

Her arm fell to her side, and she turned, staring down the long hall where she could barely decipher the outline of his door.

“Can you speak?” she’d asked him at the waterfall. What a ninny he must have thought her. But how well could he speak?

“Ella?” Lord Roberts stood at the top of the stairs, watching her.

Guilt washed through her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. He thought she’d stay, that she’d be a miracle tonic for his grandson.

With a sigh, he started toward her, not pausing until he reached the window beside her.

“If you follow that path,” Lord Roberts started, nodding toward the horizon. “It will take you directly to the sea.”

She couldn’t stop herself from looking in the direction he indicated. “Really?”

“But you aren’t here to enjoy the scenery, are you?”

Her face flushed, and she shook her head. “I—I don’t know how I can help him. I think he may be beyond help.” But even as she said the words, she knew it was the fear talking, fear of emotions so troubling and powerful she knew they could be her demise.

Lord Roberts sighed. “When Leo’s father wanted to go to India, I didn’t say a word.”

Ella’s heart skipped a beat. “India?”

“He’d always been an adventurous boy, and I knew I couldn’t stifle his longing. For twelve years now, I’ve regretted that decision. Leo’s parents were murdered there.”

Ella couldn’t contain her gasp.

Lord Roberts continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Leo was nowhere to be found. My second son traveled there, but could find no trace. A little over a year ago, Leo appeared at this house. I didn’t believe it was him, at first. But he had his father’s ring and his grandmother’s eyes.”

“But where was he all that time? How did he survive?” Ella demanded. Suddenly, her visions were starting to make sense.

“He had a friend with him, some sort of Indian native named Akshay who comes and goes like a thief. Speaks even less than Leo. Other than that, I do not know who helped him survive.”

“You haven’t asked?”

He gazed out over the gardens below, his face tired and worn down by the burdens of life. “I tried, but the boy is rather silent, if you haven’t noticed.”

“But, you do know he can speak, don’t you?”

“Of course, although he’s barely spoken more than a few words to me. He’s not an animal, if that’s what you think. Spent time with an Italian artist where he learned to paint. He was old enough when he lost his parents to retain a bit of the English culture. But he needs refinement. Needs to learn how to behave around women if he is to ever marry and carry on our family line.”

They lapsed into silence. Ella’s mind spun, her thoughts a jumble of confusing emotions. Half of her wanted to run; the other half told her to stay and help this man who so desperately needed her. Although Lady Buckley’s youngest girls had been kind enough, they’d never truly needed her. No one had since her grandfather died.

“Will you stay, Ella? Will you try and help him?”

She met Lord Roberts’s blue gaze. She could see the hope there, the fear, the worry, the exhaustion, the same emotions most likely mirrored in her own eyes. If she stayed, she might be able to help both Leo and Lord Roberts. If she stayed, she may ruin herself completely. But nagging at the back of her mind was the picture of Leo as a child—his fear, his sorrow, his pain. A lad who deserved his misfortune as little as she deserved hers. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt like Leo was almost a kindred soul. A mere boy who’d seen too much.

How had he survived?

How could she say no?