Jane could not reply to that without revealing far more than was wise. She could not explain, even to herself, why she felt that this man, weak or not, could be dangerous to her.
Now, as she looked at him across the room, her face paled, then turned rosy and heated, and all those uncomfortable sensations were back in full force. He was sitting up in bed, relaxed against a mound of pillows with that blatantly male chest exposed, and he was gazing at her with those hooded, dark eyes.
A slow grin shaped his mouth, and he said in a low, intimate voice, “Ah, at last. My angel of mercy has come to succour me.’’
CHAPTER FOUR
Although she would not have credited the possibility, Jane felt herself blushing even more furiously. To counter her reaction, she pressed her lips firmly together and lifted her chin haughtily before advancing toward the bed, saying, “I have brought you some luncheon, Mr. Sebast.”
With hunger gnawing at his stomach, he ignored the misnomer again, frowned at the tray, and said, “I hope it is something more sustaining than gruel this time.”
Without answering, Jane arranged the tray beside him and stepped back.
After staring at her suspiciously for a moment, be removed the napkin himself and exclaimed, “Damnation! What are you trying to do to me, woman? Why did you not simply allow me to bleed to death yesterday? It would have been kinder by far than this slow starvation. But no doubt kindness is not your object. Doubtless you enjoy torturing your victims.”
Jane’s chin rose even higher. She said, “I am sorry if you dislike beef broth, sir, but I assure you that for an invalid—”
“Don’t bother to repeat that particular fairy tale,” he interrupted. “Miss Wedmore entertained me with it this morning, and I did not find it amusing then. In fact, I distinctly remember telling her that I expected more substantial fare in the future.’’
“I believe, sir, that in this matter I am more qualified than you to—” Jane began coolly.
“Devil take you, madam!” he shouted. “Either bring me some food I can get my teeth into or I shall throw this swill against yonder wall!”
Jane drew herself up stiffly, and for the first time a touch of anger sounded in her voice. “I shall try if I can to ignore your ill temper, Mr. Sebast, since I suppose nothing better can be expected from a man who follows such an occupation as yours. However, I do wish you would at least make an attempt to moderate your language while you are in my home.”
If she expected an apology from him, she was doomed to be disappointed. Instead, he asked irritably, “Why do you insist upon calling me Mr. Sebast?”
Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, it is your name, is it not? In any event, it is the one you gave me.”
“Mmm,” he murmured noncommittally. When had he given her a false name he wondered? He must have had a reason, but since he could not recall it at the moment, perhaps it was best to play a waiting game for now. But, as she was watching him with a puzzled frown, he muttered, “I suppose I am unused to being addressed so... formally.”
Her expression cleared, and she retorted, “I can well believe
that!”
Her tone reminded him of an earlier remark-something about his “occupation.” “Why, exactly, do you hold me in such low regard?” he demanded.
Smiling thinly, she said, “Come now, Mr. Sebast. Do you deny that you are the highwayman who has been victimizing this region of late?”
He gazed at her blankly for a moment, then, impelled by a sense of deviltry, he leaned back and asked, “Would it do any good for me to deny it? It seems that you have caught me out. I can only wonder how you guessed.”
Despite an unexpected feeling of disappointment, she managed to say, “Oh, it was not so difficult. There was your horse, which is very like the one the highwayman is said to ride. And, although you were not brandishing it when you stopped my carriage, you were armed with a pistol.”
At that, he frowned again and said, “Ah yes, my pistol. Where is it, by the way?”
She offered him a smile, and he was surprised how it changed and improved her looks. Suddenly he found himself wanting to know more about this unusual female.
Unaware of his reaction, she replied archly, “You don’t really believe me such a fool as to tell you that, do you?”
“No, I suppose not,” he said. Then, grinning, he changed the subject, saying, “At least I now have an explanation for why I was shot. I had been wondering if you made a habit of greeting all strangers in such an unfriendly manner.”
Her own eyes now gleaming with humour, she said, “Oh, no. Only those who ride black horses.”
He acknowledged that with a smile, then, with an audible reminder from his stomach, he gestured towards the tray and said, “Since we have agreed that you are no fool, I am certain that you will see the wisdom of bringing me some genuine food to replace this pap.”
Jane sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with him. She could well believe that his threat of throwing the tray had not been an idle one. “Very well,” she conceded, “but do not blame me if it does you more harm than good.”
“I shan’t,’’ he assured her.
When next she entered his chamber, the tray held some generous slices of roasted beef, a chunk of cheese, some fresh baked bread, and a mug of ale.
“This is more like it,” he said with satisfaction. “And now I know that you are, indeed, my angel of mercy.”
Blushing again, she said primly, “I am no such thing, Mr. Sebast. And I only hope that you do not come to regret this.”
“Never!” he returned. Then he demanded, “Where are you going?”
Jane had turned to leave, but at that she stopped and said, “I cannot remain here alone with you, Mr. Sebast. It would not be proper.”
“Devil take propriety,” he said, turning his attention back to the tray. “I want you to stay.’’
This was met with utter silence, and glancing up again he said, “Oh, don’t poker up so! I did not mean to offend you, but I see nothing wrong in having you stay here with me. After all, you are in the way of being my physician, are you not?”
“Well, I suppose one might say that,” she answered uncertainly.
“Yes, and so there can be nothing improper in giving me your company. Besides, it behooves you to stay in the event that you are right and I suffer a severe setback as a result of eating genuine food.”
“In which case you would be justly served,” she told him, trying for sternness but failing. The attempt was completely foiled by a slight twitching of her lips and an amused gleam in her eyes.
His eyes held an answering light as he said, “Ah, and only think what satisfaction it would give you to be able to say, ’I told you so.’ ”
At that, Jane could not hold back a full-fledged smile as she replied, “Now that is a most convincing inducement, sir. Still, I do not think—”
“In addition,” he interrupted hastily, “I fail to see what I can possibly do, in my condition, to ruin your reputation. And if that does not convince you, I shall threaten to rise from my bed of pain to follow you if you should leave.”
“You would not!”
“Do you wish to put me to the test?”
“You are an unprincipled knave, Mr. Sebast.”
“I admit it. Miss Lockwood, but what can you expect from a highwayman?”
Deciding that she would be wise not to call his bluff, Jane gave in as graciously as she could and sat down uneasily on the edge of the bedside chair. She knew that staying with him was wrong. She also knew that it was, above all things, just what she wished to do, but she banished that knowledge to a far corner of her mind.
“Mmm,” he murmured with approval as, having gained his objective, he delved wholeheartedly into his meal. “This is well worth the chance of a setback.”
Silence then reigned while he consumed several astonishingly large bites of bread, beef and cheese with obvious relish. Fascinated, she watched his hand as he raised the mug to his mouth for a long swallow of ale, unable to prevent herself from focusing on his mouth as his tongue came out to lick his lips.
And suddenly he was grinning at her.
Only then did Jane realize that she had been staring, her own lips parted, while she fantasized about feeling his mouth on hers.
Dear heaven!
she thought. She had never been kissed in her life, not even by her father, and could not think how she had come to be having such thoughts about this dangerous stranger.
She looked away in embarrassment and said the first thing which came into her head. “My goodness, but it is getting warm, is it not? “
His grin widened, since it was actually rather cool for a summer day. He said, “I had not noticed until now, but do you know, I believe you are right. It seems to be getting warmer by the minute.”
She could not take exception to what he had said, but felt, somehow, that she should, and this confused her. Resisting an urge to fidget, she cast about for an innocuous topic of conversation but could come up with nothing. What
did
one speak of when conversing with a highwayman? And it did not help that, although he had resumed eating, his eyes remained fixed upon her with a patently amused expression.
Finally, goaded, she said, “I wish you would not stare at me so!”
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
“No—yes. I mean—has no one ever told you that it is rude to do so?”
“Frequently,” he replied indifferently.
“And I suppose you do not care for that?”
“Not particularly.”
She gave a short laugh before saying, “Well, that was a stupid question. Of what use is polite behaviour to a highwayman?”
“None at all, I should think,” he agreed.
“I suppose you do not care what the world may think of you, either.”
Rather than replying to that, he asked, “Do you care so much for the opinion of others?”
“Yes, of course I do,” she answered with a touch of defiance in her voice, although she did not know why she should be feeling defensive.
“Why?” he asked.
Jane frowned, not knowing for a moment how to answer him. Her mother had not cared a fig for the opinion of others, and though
she
might not have suffered for it, Jane and her father certainly had. But she could not tell him that. Finally she said, “Well, I should think that would be obvious. If everyone ignored the rules of Society, there would be nothing but chaos.”
“Oh, I grant you, there must be some rules governing Society, but what I had in mind were those rules having to do with propriety. Has it never struck you how ridiculous and unnatural many of them are?”
“I do not find them so,” she said primly, but she could not meet his eyes, knowing that it was not strictly the truth.
“Do you not?” he asked softly, taking in her unnaturally stiff posture and the disapproving set of her mouth. “Have you never longed to simply let down your hair and relax, to do something purely for the enjoyment of it?”
Reminded again of her mother’s misconduct, Jane felt an anger out of all proportion to the conversation. And it did not help to know that he was right, to be reminded of how frequently she had, indeed, longed to be free.
But a lady did not show her emotions, and she struggled to contain hers before saying coolly, “I think we must agree to disagree on this subject, Mr. Sebast. In any event, I do not care to discuss it with you. I shall only say that Society can be very cruel to those who do not heed its opinions.”
He studied her speculatively for a moment, then shrugged and turned his attention back to his meal.
After a few minutes of silence, Jane asked, “Were you a soldier, Mr. Sebast?”
“I was,” he acknowledged briefly.
Jane nodded. “I thought as much. And I suppose, like so many of our fighting men, you were unable to find gainful employment upon being sent home.
Is
that why you became a highwayman?”
“As you say,” he answered cautiously, “without gainful employment, a man is left with little choice but to become either a criminal or a beggar.”
Leaning forward eagerly, she said, “Yes, and the real crime is that men who have fought so valiantly for our country should be treated so shabbily on their return. But do you not see that if you continue on this course you have chosen, you will eventually be caught and hanged?”
“Why, Miss Lockwood,” he teased, “does the thought of my being hanged distress you?”
Distress was scarcely the word for the emotions brought on by that thought, but she only said, “The thought of anyone being hanged distresses me, and this is hardly a matter for levity.’’
“Forgive me,” he said in a chastened voice. “But what would you have me say? The fact of the matter is that I would as lief be a highwayman if my only other choice were begging.”
Leaning forward again, she said very earnestly, “Yes, but if I—if someone were to offer you respectable employment...”
He knew that he should put a stop to this now, but was oddly reluctant to do so. He was enjoying it too much. She was obviously a do-gooder, and teasing her was almost irresistible. But aside from that, his strength was waning again. Leaning back against the pillows, he closed his eyes and said, “Well, it is certainly something to think about, but not just now, if you please.”
“Oh,” said Jane, recalling his weakened condition. “Of course, you must rest if you can. Is your wound paining you?”
“Like the very devil,” he said, and watched from beneath half-lowered eyelids to see her reaction.
To his surprise, she merely smiled ruefully with a slight shake of her head before asking, “Shall I bring you some laudanum?”
He hesitated, knowing what relief it would bring, but he disliked the accompanying loss of control. During the war, be had seen more than one wounded man become too dependent upon the drug. He said, “I think not. I prefer to do without it if I can.”
It was her turn to hesitate. What she was about to offer would necessitate touching his bare limb again, and that she shrank from doing. But she knew she would be obliged to do it soon in any event. His dressing would need to be changed and the wound inspected for signs of infection. At last she said, “I have an ointment I might apply. It is not as effective as laudanum, but it will afford you some relief. Would you prefer to try that?”