Love Comes Blindly (book 5) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (5 page)

She moved to stand, but he grasped her hand and pulled her back down to the bench.
“Mary, thank you for telling me.
I feel I know you better now.” He rubbed her soft fingers.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but I feel like I know you better, as well.”

He nodded.

“And Mr. Fielding?”

“Yes?”

“Please call me Sister Mary.”

He grinned. “I know you are not a nun.”

“But it’s not proper to call me Mary. I would hate to explain this to the other nuns.”

“Indeed, so I will only call you Mary when we’re alone.” He shook his head and chuckled. “It’s hard to think of you this way. I feel we have become close friends.”

“We have.”

“I know you don’t know me, but I can assure you, I have never been friends with nuns, so for me to admit we have this kind of relationship…well, I fear my friends back home would rile me endlessly if they knew.”

“Then I won’t say a word to anyone. This will be our little secret.”

“Ah…a secret, eh?
Do you enjoy secrets as much as I?”

“That, I dare not say.”

He sighed, enjoying their banter. “You know, Mary…I wish... I wish I could see your face. I’ll bet you’re beautiful.”

Taking both of her hands in his, he pulled her closer. Soft, delicate fingers rested in his palms. He ran the pad of his thumbs across each finger. Slim. He suspected her body would be this way, too. Slowly, he moved his touch to each wrist, which was also small. As he continued up her arms, she stiffened. He waited for her to stop him or pull away, but she did neither.

He paused again when he reached her shoulders. A slight quiver came from her body. Cautiously, he moved his fingers over her collarbone to her neck. Smooth skin met his fingertips, as did a wild pulse. Her throat moved in what must have been a swallow, and he copied that movement with his own, trying to add moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth.

Had he been the first man to touch her like this since she studied to become a nun? The thought thrilled him and made him want to keep touching her. Small sighs came from her, and he enjoyed hearing them.

He continued up her slim neck toward her face. Quick, hot breaths exhaled from her mouth and fanned his skin. Excitement gushed through him, and his own breathing became ragged. He’d never acted this way by just touching a woman, especially when she was dressed. And to think he didn’t know what she looked like. Yet for some reason, it didn’t matter right now.

She had a small chin, and when he reached her dry lips, they were parted. He couldn’t stop from sweeping his thumb across her bottom lip. Licking his own parched lips, he continued the exploration and moved his fingers over high cheeks before stroking closed eyelids. Long, thick lashes tickled his skin. When he touched her hair, she let out another sigh, and he nearly joined his voice with hers. Soft, silky, and curly, a lock of hair brushed his fingers.

He imaged what she looked like, and Lord Calvin was correct. Mary was very lovely.

He dropped his fingers to her mouth again. This time they were moist. She must have licked her lips. How he wanted to kiss her right now.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Mary,” he said huskily. “I imagine your eyes are an amazing color, also. Let me see if I can guess.” He paused for only a moment. “Green...no, they’re blue. Perhaps they are both—turquoise.” Her gasp made him smile.

“How did you know?”

“I’ll confess. My friend, Lord Calvin, told me.”

She took his hands from her face and pushed them away. “I need to get you back to your bed now. Afternoon prayer time will be starting soon, and then I will have to help prepare the mid-day meal.”

Her voice wasn’t sensual any longer. Instead, it was edged with panic. Had he disturbed her as much she disrupted his thoughts?

She moved around him and pushed his wheelchair. By her hurried steps, he knew that he’d upset her. His heart ached. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Mary?”

“Sister Mary, please.”

He scowled. She really didn’t sound like a nun. She didn’t smell like a nun, and she didn’t sigh like one, either.

“What do you want, Mr. Fielding?”

“I want you to call me Gregg.”

Her long pause made him hold his breath.

“If you wish,” she said.

“I do. I also want to tell you I’m sorry.”

The wheelchair slowed. “Thank you.”

“Do you know what I’m apologizing for?”

“Yes.”

“Sister Mary? May I ask you another personal question?”

“No.”

He chuckled. Her reply came too quickly. “Have you let other men touch you like that since...you came to live at the Abbey?”

She expelled her breath and it blew across his neck. He grinned. Yes, he disturbed her, to be sure.

“Mr.—um, I mean
Gregg,
I’ve made many mistakes in my past. I’m not immune to a man’s touch.”

“But you haven’t allowed a man to touch you since?”

“No.”

“Is that why your heart was racing?”

“Yes. But, Gregg, you can never do that again. Do you understand? I...cannot have those feelings.”

He reached back and grasped her hand, pulling it down to rest on his shoulder.
“My apologies again, Sister Mary.
I hope you will forgive me.”

“I will, but only if you promise never to touch me like that again.”

Could he make the promise? He was labeled a rake in London and he wore the title proudly. After all, it was his duty to please women. Although he didn’t know Mary, he knew she could not be a nun. Passionate women like her had no business giving their lives to God, and he’d try to convince her to change her mind about that decision.

“I cannot make that promise, but…I assure you I shall think really hard about your request,” he said with touch of humor.

* * * *

Once Madeline had Gregg back in bed, she hurried to the chapel to pray.
As she clutched her rosary and said the words, tears streamed down her cheeks.
It had been too long since she’d felt those emotions heating her body. Why now?

And why with Gregg?

She shouldn’t have told him about the baby. Yet…in a way she hoped he would know it was her and voice his thoughts so she wouldn’t have to be the first to bring up the subject. It certainly didn’t happen the way she’d wanted. But Gregg had the ability to control her mind and body. Just one touch from him made her body sing with passion. Even when she thought she was in love with her sister’s husband, Gregg was still the man who made her quiver with desire. He was the only man to make love to her, and just now when his intimate touch stroked her face and neck, her body recalled every moment in the past when he’d made her burn. Now, three years later, she ached for his loving touch once again.

But if he knew who she really was—his touch would
not
be loving
at all.

She silently scolded herself. Falling back to the old
Maddie
was not going to happen. The only way to stop this insanity would be to tell him the truth. Once he knew she was Madeline O’Neil, he’d leave the Abbey and her behind as quickly as he came.

Tears continued to flow, and she couldn’t control them. Her heart broke from knowing Gregg would always hate her. If he didn’t forgive her for her past mistakes, he’d definitely not forgive her when he discovered who his
angel
had been all this time. She didn’t want to hurt him any longer. She wanted forgiveness so she could move forward into her new life.

A hand rested on her shoulder and Madeline snapped her gaze up to meet the worried stare of the Reverend Mother. Madeline’s heart plummeted.
She knows!

The older nun motioned for Madeline follow. Holding her rosary tightly against her bosom, she trailed behind the Reverend Mother until they reached the Mother’s office.

“My child, I’ve been
watchin

ya
closely, an’ I see confusion in
yar
eyes,” she said in a strong Scottish accent.

Madeline crumpled onto the chair, rested her head in her hands and sobbed.
“Oh, Reverend Mother.
I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“I...have sinned.”

The Reverend Mother lifted Madeline’s chin until she met her eyes.

“Madeline, I’m not the person
ya
should confess
yar
sins to. ‘Sides, I
dinna
ken
yar
sins are of the flesh, just in
yar
heart.”

Madeline nodded.

“Who is Mr. Gregory Fielding to
ya
?”

“Remember when I told you about my past?”

“Aye.”

“Mr. Fielding is the man I was betrothed to. He’s the one that took my virginity.”

The older nun nodded. “He’s the father of
yar
bairn
.”

“Yes.” Madeline took her handkerchief and dabbed the corners of her eyes.

The Reverend Mother sighed and walked behind her desk. A frown tugged on her mouth as she sat and
steepled
her hands. “Does he ken who
ya
are, lass?”

“No. He thinks of me as Sister Mary. I couldn’t bear to tell him my real name.”

“How do
ya
feel about him? Are
ya
still in love with him?”

Tears welled in her eyes again, and agony shot through her soul. “No…oh, I don’t know. Oh, Reverend Mother, I’m so confused. I hurt him terribly three years ago, and I want his forgiveness. We had become friends before he discovered what I had done back then.” She shrugged. “And we’re becoming friends again.”

The Reverend Mother brought the points of her fingers to her bottom lip. “How did
ya
feel when he touched
ya
today?”

Heat rushed to Madeline’s face. “You...saw?”

“Aye.
From this very window.”

Madeline lowered her gaze to the floor. “His touch confused me. I’d thought those carnal feelings were behind me.”

Perhaps I’ll assign someone else to care for him.”

Panic surged through Madeline and she stood. “No, Reverend Mother. I don’t believe that’s the right thing to do. I’ve helped blind people before. I know I can help him.”

“But what of
yar
feelins
’ for him?”

She took a deep breath. “I must make him like the new Madeline O’Neil. That’s the only way he’ll ever forgive me.”

The Reverend Mother pushed away from her desk and walked to Madeline. She touched Madeline’s cheek.

Yar
a strong lass, Madeline.”

Madeline fell to her knees and took the Reverend Mother’s hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you. I will be strong. I assure you.”

Yet even as she made the promise to the nun, in the back of her mind, she doubted her resolve. It had been her habit to always give in to sins of the flesh.

 

Chapter Four

 

The next morning after breakfast, Madeline forced her wobbly legs toward Gregg’s cot, hoping they’d grow stiff at any moment. In her mind she repeated encouraging words:
God will help me. I will not allow Gregg to touch me.
Yet when she reached his side, she didn’t feel as strong as she thought she should be.

Nevertheless, she
must
do this. She must remove these carnal thoughts from her mind!

Gregg had been talking to his friend, and as soon as she stopped beside Gregg’s bed, his head whipped around and he smiled wide.

“Mar—uh, Sister Mary.”

She wanted to laugh, but kept herself from doing so. Gregg must have known in his heart she wasn’t a nun, and it was most comical to watch him trying to act like it. “How did you know it was me?”

He inhaled deeply.
“Your smell.
I love the scent of roses. Especially now,” he ended quieter.

Her heart flipped, and she wished it hadn’t. “Forgive me for interrupting your visit with Lord Drake, but I wondered if you would like to start your lessons today.”

“Most assuredly.”

Once again, she bit back a laugh. Gregg’s enthusiasm nearly had him leaping from the cot. She touched his arm, and quickly his other hand tenderly grasped her hand.

“You lead and I shall follow,” he said.

“Splendid. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” She took both of his hands in hers. “I don’t have the wheelie chair today because I’m going to show you how to walk. Let me know if you are too weak.”

“I shall be fine as long as you are beside me.”

She pulled his hands and he stood in front of her, wobbling slightly. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Please continue.”

Leading him away from the cot, they took small steps toward the hallway. When she had him where she wanted, she stopped and moved to his side. Hesitantly, she slid one arm around his waist while continuing to hold his hand.

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