Once Beloved (14 page)

G
od in heaven, Daniel Lanfield was kissing her. Daniel. Lanfield. Helena couldn't believe it. As if those were the only two words her mind could grasp, they repeated over and over in her head until they merged into one constant nonsensical string.
DanielLanfieldDanielLanfieldDanielLanfieldDanielLanfieldDanielLanfieldDanielLanfield
. What was she doing? The sensations careening through her were incomprehensible too. Hot and soft and moist and taste and teeth and . . . Even as she clung to him, she couldn't make sense of what was happening. He was kissing her. And she was kissing him back, pressing up on her toes to get closer, to get as close as humanly possible. When he tipped his head, she followed. When his lips parted, she followed. And greedily pulled him closer. Judging by the way he paused and gasped against her lips, he was as shocked as she at the power of their kiss.

No
, a voice in her head cried. But it was drowned out by everything else, by all the sensations rioting through her, by the voices saying
yes
and
please
and
more
. At first, the kiss felt pure and achingly simple. Just a kiss. But the wave of need that crashed over her couldn't stop at a little kiss. She needed more. More of his touch, more of this intensity. When she pulled him down to deepen the kiss, the firmness of his shoulders against her arms, of his chest against hers, left her a shaking mass of sensation. She couldn't think, only feel. His lips were so soft, so different from the rest of him, from his calloused hands and his rigid muscles beneath her fingers. So soft and warm and gentle. It wasn't what she'd expected.
He
wasn't what she'd expected. A tendril of warm pleasure unfurled in her belly, blooming as she felt a rumbling groan go through his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. He must be able to feel her quivering. But, oh, she couldn't resist just a little more of this.

By God, his lips against hers, his firm body against hers, growing firmer by the moment from what she could tell through her skirts—she couldn't breathe! Or maybe that was because his lips wouldn't release hers. She pulled back slightly just to take a breath, but it was enough to break the moment.

When she'd said the words
We could keep each other warm
, she certainly hadn't meant anything like this. She had to put a stop to this insanity.

Suddenly, air whooshed around her, chilled and disorienting. Daniel was at the door, his back to her, his hand frozen on the knob. He looked just as confused and uncomfortable as she felt.

“I don't expect you'll pardon me, Mrs. Martin, but I am sorry for this,” he said to the wall, his voice shocked and distant. “I'll make my bed on the floor in the other room.”

“That's wise,” she said, “but there's no need for apologies.”

“Or 'appen, in the barn,” he said, as if she hadn't spoken.

“Don't be daft. There's no need to go to such extremes over a . . . harmless misstep.”

He turned his face to meet her gaze, his mouth twisting into a grimace that made her wary.

“A misstep,” he echoed sharply. “That would be a fine, mild word for it.” He stopped speaking so abruptly that she waited a long moment for him to continue. She'd give a great deal to know what he was thinking right then as he closed his eyes, his hands clenched against his thighs.

“Given the rough weather we've had today, literally and metaphorically, it's no wonder we forgot ourselves, Daniel.” She tried to make her tone light and casual, but she didn't realize until his eyes flew open with a jolt that she'd used his Christian name. Where on earth had that come from? “I'm sorry. Mr. Lanfield.”

His eyes blazed at her correction. “Definitely the barn.”

“No! I shall not drive you from the comfort of your own home. You cannot sleep in your barn in the middle of a storm.”

“Ah, Mrs. Martin, I cannot sleep here. Because that didn't feel at all like a mistake, even though we both know it was. For a critical moment, I forgot who you are and what you've done. I forgot who I am and where my loyalty belongs. I'll bed down in the barn because . . . if I stay under this roof with you, I've no doubt I'll want to do that again. And that cannot happen.”

She couldn't bring herself either to concur with or deny his prediction.
I forgot who you are and what you've done.
He would never forgive her for her youthful transgressions. He would never see her as anything besides the girl who'd abandoned his brother and ruined Marksby. The realization hurt more than she'd imagined it could.

 

“Daniel! You dolt, open up!” A male voice, deep and jovial, sounded from the vicinity of the front steps. Helena leapt from the bed, disoriented. She sat back down abruptly, dizzy from standing too quickly. The events of the previous night flashed in her memory, and shutting her eyes only made everything worse. A heavy hand knocked at the front door. That was the pounding she'd heard in her dream. There was something familiar about that voice, uncomfortably familiar. “Come open the door, man! Hal told me you nearly drowned over a lamb or two, you fool! Open up so I can knock some sense into you!” Oh, dear Lord in heaven. Gordon! It had to be.

She peeked through the curtains as well as she could without disturbing them. She dare not draw the man's attention. But she couldn't see much of him. She could tell that he was tall. He dressed much like Daniel—practical, warm, sturdy. That was all she could see before the creak of the door told her he'd entered the house. She pressed herself into a corner between the window and the bureau and struggled to right her clothing. She hadn't undressed, but she'd untucked her blouse and loosed her stays to sleep. Even with the laces in the front for easy reach, her fingers fumbled, and a fine panicky sweat prickled her skin. Angels in heaven, her boots were across the room, by the door, still covered in muck.

“Danny!” Gordon called out again. This time, his voice was louder and more anxious. “Why aren't you waking?” His footsteps ranged through the front room but quickly made their way to the bedroom door. What was she to do? How could she face him? Like this? She hadn't seen him since she ran away. What must he think of her? Of all people in this village, he surely had a right to hold a grudge. What would he think, finding her here? She couldn't slip out the window without her boots. If he hadn't heard she'd returned to Marksby, perhaps she could pretend to be a new maid. Perhaps a lightskirt. There must be some such women in the area. A hysterical laughter threatened to burst from her. Perhaps she was finally slipping into madness.

Gordon knocked loudly on the bedroom door but didn't wait for a response before opening it.

“Daniel! Wake up!” He halted just a few feet into the room when he realized Daniel wasn't in bed. “What on—?” He whirled around, calling for his brother. When he caught sight of her boots, he froze. Then he turned slowly, the clock in the front room ticking away each inch.

“Pardon me, miss! I didn't—” He looked confused, almost alarmed. He was taller than she remembered and broader too. He filled the doorway, and a shiver skittered down her back as she tensed. He made an imposing figure, one that likely wouldn't be pleased when he recognized her. “Do you know, ma'am, where my brother is?” His tone was cautious, as he looked from her to the rumpled bed repeatedly.

“I think he's in the barn,” she said quietly. She had to clear her throat before she could add, “He slept there last night.”

Surprise was evident on Gordon's face. “The barn, you say? Why? No, no need to answer that.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and looked toward the door. “I didn't mean to startle you. I feared Daniel might have caught sick from a dunking in the beck last night. I best go see to him. I'm his brother, Gordon. Might I ask who—?”

And there it was. He saw her now. The very air in the room changed as he recognized her. His face shifted to the same steely cold stare she'd seen on Daniel's face at the Crystal Palace when she'd told him who she was. The chilling silence lasted for what felt like an eternity. That telling sour taste flooded her mouth as her scalp began to tingle, every hair alert to sudden danger.

Finally, he said, “I'd heard you were back, Miss Thorton.”

“Yes, Mr. Lanfield. I have returned,” she responded with a tone she hoped was neutral, masking the fear rising in her chest. “You may not have heard I've been Mrs. Martin for quite a while now.” Chagrined, she quickly added, “And it is I who should ask your pardon.”

Glaring, he waved away her comment with a gesture of his meaty hand as he stepped farther into the room. His massive bulk blocked her exit, and her level of panic shot up, much like she expected a fox felt when run to ground. “Not my business,” he said gruffly. “What is my business, though, is what in hell you're doing in my brother's bedroom at dawn?”

The barely leashed fury in his voice set her stomach churning. She had to get out of here, but she couldn't think. She gaped at him, trying to piece words together that would make sense.

“No, brother, that's not your business.” Daniel's voice carried from the front door, and his tone matched the frigidity of his brother's. His heavy footfalls only marginally settled her rioting nerves. His voice grew louder as he approached, adding, “You'd best remember your manners, at least when you're in my house.”

“Danny! Thank God!” Gordon rushed out of the bedroom.

Momentarily free from his hulking presence, she took a deep breath. When had she started shaking? She grabbed her boots and shoved her feet into them, not bothering with the laces. It was enough to have them on in case of a quick retreat. The sooner she left this place, the better! As long as she had all her belongings, including her bonnet and her cloak, she could manage something as pedestrian as fastening her boots out on a boulder somewhere. As soon as possible. She exited the bedroom just in time to see Gordon releasing his brother's shoulders.

“I was worried, brother, when you didn't appear in the yard this morning. Thought I'd maybe find you retching your guts out or passed out with fever. Ruth and Hal too both feared you'd gone ill. You know better than to fight that swelling beck for a gimmer or two.”

“I'm fine, Gordy, nary a scratch. The wee lambs needed help. They were caught in a fallen tree and wouldn't have gotten out on their own. Lampy's the only one that had trouble recovering.”

“You and your naming. I've told you time and again you can't name the bloody things. They aren't pets.”

“Lampy the Younger is doing fine, as am I,” Daniel said firmly. “No harm done. So you can go about your day. I'll be out in the fields within the hour.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow and tipped his head in Helena's direction. “An hour, you say? Time enough to sort out whatever business you have with this one?”

“Gordon,” Daniel warned, “I shan't tell you again to mind your manners. Mrs. Martin and her niece saw me and Hal struggling with the flock by the water. She was kind enough to bring me a warm meal, but the storm raged too strong for her to go home safely.”

“So you slept in the barn?” Gordon said skeptically.

“Aye, so I slept in the barn,” Daniel replied, his chin up.

“And
Mrs. Martin
here was only being a
good
neighbor?”

“Aye. Watch your tone.” The curt reply came through gritted teeth, but Daniel wasn't the only one whose ire was up now. She'd grown tired of observing this brotherly exchange, which fleetingly reminded her of dogs bracing themselves to face off against each other. She was no one's bone to bicker over.

“Gentlemen, I am still here. And, yes, whatever you think of me, Mr. Lanfield, I was trying to be a good neighbor. I didn't think your brother had anyone here to care for him, and clearly I was right. I thought he would benefit from one of Mrs. Weathers's hearty stews, seeing as he would be too busy to see to a hot meal himself. I'll be leaving as soon as I can ready myself.”

“No use atoning for your sins here in Marksby, bitch.”

Before she'd even fully comprehended Gordon's words, Daniel pinned his brother against the wall, a hand to his throat. The unadulterated hatred in Gordon's words and in his eyes as he and his brother stared each other down made her stomach turn.

“Enough, brother! Apologize to Mrs. Martin. She knows she's done wrong, but that was a long time ago, and we've all changed.”

Gordon shoved Daniel away and advanced on him. “Seems like you've changed quite a bit in the month you've been gone. The Daniel I know wouldn't forget his home and his family so easily.”

“You think I've forgotten anything?” Daniel replied, now toe to toe with his brother. Mirror images, they stood tall, defensive, glaring at each other. “I'm a Lanfield, same as you. I know as well as you what our family has suffered. But I wasn't about to send a defenseless woman out into that fierce night.”

“To a Lanfield of Marksby, she's not a defenseless woman.” Gordon jerked a thumb in her direction. “She's a bitch and a frow, and she always will be.”

Bollocks! That was more than she could allow! She charged forward, catching Daniel's cocked arm and pushing him away. She stood between the two men, unable to recall when she'd been more infuriated.

“Gordon Lanfield!” For the first time since Daniel had entered the room, Gordon looked at her straight on. He stared down at her as if he meant to do her harm, but she would have none of it. He might be entitled to some anger toward her, but he had no right to question her devotion to her husband or her children. “I do sincerely regret the pain and embarrassment I caused you so many years ago. Truly I do. But I
won't
bide you insulting my husband and my family by questioning my virtue.”