Corey McFadden (22 page)

“Come here. Missy hurt.”

Giles stared. The boy had said that! Without a word, Giles walked over to the bed, not taking his eyes from Tom. When he got to the bed, Tom reached for his hand and guided it to Joanna’s cheek. “Missy hurt,” the child repeated. His eyes were questioning and a little worried.

Very gently, Giles let his hand trace over the bruised and swollen cheek. He should have killed both of those men. Turning to Tom, he put his other hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Yes, Miss Carpenter is hurt a little, Tom,” he said quietly. “She fell down. But she’ll be well again soon, and in the meanwhile we’ll have to take good care of her, won’t we?” He ruffled Tom’s hair and gave Joanna a wondering look. She answered him with a smile, her heart in her eyes.

* * * *

Lily helped Joanna dress with the greatest of care. After Annie had collected the children for their baths, Lily had come to her, to ask if she felt up to joining Sir Giles at supper.

It felt good to get up and move around. Lily had filled the tub in the bathing room down the hall, and Joanna had soaked in the hot water, the aches fading into the warmth. She had not let Lily see her unclothed. There were too many injuries to be explained by a simple fall on the stairs. Fortunately, Lily had left her with a dressing gown and clean shift, and instructions to soak as long as the water stayed warm, and this Joanna was pleased to do.

She would have supper with him. Her heart gave a leap at the thought of spending the evening with Giles. And then what? Would he want to kiss her again? She would not say no. At the very thought, the fire leaped again in her belly. And if he touched her again like that, would there be anything left of her will, any thought at all in her head except how good it felt?

But what if Lady Eleanor or any of her guests were taking supper with them? Joanna could hardly bear the thought. The woman poisoned the very atmosphere they breathed. Everything about her was tainted and frightening. Well, Joanna would sup with the devil himself if it meant she could be with Giles, so if Eleanor and her friends were to be there, then so be it.

The cooling of the water finally drove her from the bath. She stood carefully and toweled herself dry. The long cut on her leg didn’t look so very bad. At least it did not look as if it would leave a scar. There was a cheval mirror in the bathing room and she looked at herself, wincing at the ghastly purple that spread across her side. Well, that too would heal, she thought, carefully re-bandaging herself, then stepping into the shift and tying the dressing gown around her.

Lily was waiting for her in her room and helped her to get the serviceable gray silk dress on.

“Let me do your hair up real nicely, miss,” Lily said gaily. “Then no one will even notice your face.”

“Oh, I’m sure everyone will notice, Lily,” said Joanna, grimacing at her reflection. The swelling had gone down slightly but the discoloration seemed more violent than before.

“We could paint you up a bit,” Lily said, her tone dubious.

“Never! I prefer the blues and purples to leaded whites,” Joanna replied, giggling.

Laughing, Lily again worked her magic with Joanna’s long tresses, brushing them out with long, careful strokes. In no time at all, her hair was pinned lightly, leaving soft tendrils to curl about and shadow her bruised face.

“Now, you look beautiful!” Lily said, stepping back and surveying her work with enthusiasm.

“Well, as good as I suppose I can look for a while, anyway. Thank you very much, Lily.”

Lily gave a curtsey accompanied by a little giggle. “My lord awaits my lady,” she said, her eyes alight with the hint of a secret.

Oh, Lord, did they all know he had spent the night in her room? Joanna thought in alarm. The trouble with falling from grace was that the fall was often public knowledge before one even landed. Her face crimsoning, Joanna gave Lily a nervous smile and made her way from the room.

She was surprised to find the hallways alight with the glow of the candles in sconces on the walls. Proceeding to the small supper parlor, she noted that the entire house, everywhere she looked, was bathed in light. Suddenly it seemed like a very pleasant house indeed, walls painted in fresh, light colors, clean, beautifully furnished. As long as one’s eye did not linger too long on the artwork....

The door to the supper parlor stood open. Stepping in, Joanna breathed a sigh of relief to see that only two places were set. She gave a start as arms came around her from behind.

“Oh, you startled me. I didn’t hear you,” she said, giggling. Gently, Giles turned her around and she found herself staring into warm brown eyes.

His lips came down softly on hers, teasing lightly. His hands roamed her back, coming to rest possessively on her hips, pulling her to him. The kiss deepened and she found herself responding, opening her lips to his, her arms going around him, pushing herself tightly to his strong, wide chest. His tongue teased at her lips. She could feel her heart start its staccato rhythm as the need inside her began to burn.

With a sigh he withdrew his lips from hers, catching his hand up in her hair, his eyes roaming her face, eyebrows drawing together in a frown as he studied the swollen and purple cheek.

“Did I hurt you, my sweet?” he asked gruffly, the concern on his face belying his tone.

“No, you never hurt me,” she answered, a little breathless and staring mesmerized into the brown depths of his eyes. It was shocking what happened to her body when he touched her, shocking because of the intense exhilaration and because she could put no name to the feeling.

“Come and sit down,” he said, leading her carefully to a chair, as if she might break. “I don’t think you should be standing or moving about much, but I did not think I should be seen having supper in your room with you in bed, and I couldn’t bear not to see you.”

Joanna’s heart leaped at his words. He must care about her. He must! All the dire moral mutterings she had ever heard were chasing around in her head. She was as near to a fallen woman as anyone could be. She had happily allowed him to take indecent liberties with her. She was not fit for decent company. He would use her and discard her like the rubbish she had become.

But he was looking at her with such caring in his eyes. There was no disgust, no shadow, no aversion.

“I dismissed the servants. I did not wish us to be interrupted,” he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I was not certain I could keep from kissing you for so long a period as it takes to eat, and you can see I was right.” While he talked he took the covers off of the steaming silver serving dishes on the sideboard. “How is your prodigious appetite this evening?” he asked.

“Prodigious, sir,” Joanna laughed. “I’ve had nothing to eat but toast and porridge and I’m famished.”

“You are always famished,” he replied, serving a plate for her with heaping portions and then one for himself.

He sat next to her and poured wine into crystal goblets. Joanna picked up her fork, relieved to see a delicious-looking cut of beef with sauce and nothing strange on her plate. They ate for a moment, the silence lengthening between them. What did one talk about with a man one had slept in the same bed with? she wondered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Suddenly he put down his fork and stared at her. Startled, she swallowed and put her fork down as well, her nerves on edge.

“I had meant to take you into the drawing room and ply you with sherry and kneel at your feet, but I find I simply cannot wait, Joanna,” he said. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me? As soon as possible?”

Joanna found herself just staring at him while his words sank in. He wanted to marry her? Then she wasn’t just a dalliance? Could it be that he really cared about her? Or was he offering to marry her because he felt he had gone too far and was trapped? She could feel her chest tighten at the thought. She would never marry a man who asked her merely out of a sense of duty!

Giles watched the play of emotions on her face.

His heart sank as he saw the shadow cross her eyes. If she said no, what would he do? Thinking all day of making Joanna his wife, of turning his blighted existence into one of joy and light, he had not stopped to consider that she might turn him down, might send him back down alone into the dark regions he had inhabited for so long.

“I—I don’t know what to say, Giles,” she began haltingly.

“Say yes,” he said simply, his heart twisting at the uncertainty in her eyes.

“I would not wish you to feel that you must do this because of what has happened between us, sir,” she went on, miserable, turning red. “I could not bear to marry you knowing that you felt forced to do the honorable thing after I allowed such...well, we would have such a dreary time together....”

“I love you.”

There was silence while she just stared at him. What had he said?

“You love me?” she finally asked in a whisper.

In answer he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I don’t wish to make it seem like a chore, but if you don’t marry me I will never draw a happy breath again as long as I live.”

It was as if he watched the sun break through dark clouds. She smiled into his eyes.

“I love you, too, you know,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve loved you since the minute I first laid eyes on you. Well, no, actually. Not quite. When I first laid eyes on you, I was quite terrified. I would have turned tail and run, but it would have set such a bad example for the children.”

“Say you’ll marry me.”

Her eyes danced in merriment. “I believe that I am supposed to faint into your waiting arms, or perhaps I am supposed to snatch my hand away and blush and say that this is all so sudden, but it really isn’t too sudden, under the circumstances, is it?”

“Say it.” He was in earnest now. His hand was gripping hers tightly.

“I will marry you.”

With a great laugh he stood and pulled her up, catching her close but careful not to crush her too tightly.

“How long does it take to read the banns?” he asked, kissing her hair.

“Three weeks, usually. Do you wish to marry right away?” His kisses were having their usual effect, making her dizzy and unable to concentrate.

“As soon as possible. I am too old to wait, and we needn’t satisfy any family with a big elaborate wedding. That is”—he pulled back and gazed at her thoughtfully—“if you have always dreamed of a big wedding, I wouldn’t deprive you of it, but....”

“Heavens, no! I’ve never dreamed of a wedding at all. And I should be embarrassed to death to have all that fussing about. The only weddings I’ve ever been to were small, country affairs, and that’s just how a wedding should be.”

“Three weeks then, my darling. It seems like an awfully long time...” he broke off, his lips seizing hers again. And there was no further discussion.

* * * *

Eleanor paced the floor like a tigress in a sultan’s menagerie. She had sent word to Hawton that she would see him tonight under the usual arrangements. He’d been out all day. Her seemingly casual inquiry of Mrs. Davies had elicited the information that Hawton was out somewhere on the property, doing whatever it was that stewards do. So she had seethed inwardly all evening, entertaining those houseguests left over from last night’s debauch, who jabbered and tittered and maddened her with their inanities till she thought she would scream. Would the man never come?

At last there was a small tap on the door. In an instant she was across the room, flinging the door open, barely concerned now with keeping things quiet. Unless she was much mistaken, her sanctimonious stepbrother was locked away in the library, no doubt having at the governess, and those few houseguests who were still here had arranged themselves in the usual, or unusual, couplings.

“Where the hell have you been all day?” she snarled, closing the door behind him with almost a slam.

“Checking the horse trails in the fells for scree, my lady,” he replied evenly. “Sir Giles asked....”

“Bugger Sir Giles, Hawton!” she shrieked, mindless of the noise. She crossed back to her divan and threw herself down, picking up a nearly empty brandy glass. He could smell the fumes all the way across the room. God, he’d be glad to make some quick money and be quit of this wicked witch.

“Did you know that he is intending to marry the bitch?” she spat out.

There was no doubt in his mind that she referred to Sir Giles and the governess, though he was, indeed, surprised. He had thought the man impervious to female charms.

“Who is marrying whom?” he asked, deliberately leaving off the ‘my lady’. Eleanor was rattled; he could see it, and he was still smarting under the dusting off she had given him last night, panting after that padded-up false count. Not that Hawton hadn’t managed all right himself. One of Eleanor’s over-painted gorgon friends had been delighted to oblige, and what she had lacked in youth she had made up for in experienced variety.

“Giles says he is marrying the chit, the governess!” she fairly screamed. Her eyes were wild and her face was mottled red under the cracking white paint. The veins stood out on her neck. He wondered idly whether she might drop down with apoplexy on the spot.

“Are you certain?” he asked mildly, planting a look of surprise and concern on his face. So much the better, really. There was nothing much to complain of in having Miss Carpenter as the mistress of Queen’s Hall, and it would be amusing to watch the high and mighty Lady Eleanor deal with her displacement.

“Of course I am certain, you cretin! He told me so himself, this afternoon!” She had swilled down the last of her brandy and held out the glass with imperious fury. “What’s more, he is moving me out, into some cottage somewhere, away from here. He won’t even set me up in London!”

Hawton weighed this bit of information as he filled her glass. Facing away from her, he allowed himself a small smile. So the old harridan would be carted out of here, would she? Then he and Lord Beeson could carry on without her. No share for Lady Eleanor, and no interference from her. He carefully replaced the crystal stopper, schooling his face into an expression of distress.

“I am horrified to hear that, my dear,” he said, handing her the glass. “How soon must you leave?”