My Soul to Take Page 15

  "Thank you," I said when Nathaniel sat me down on the sofa. He piled cushions behind my back until I waved him away.

  He sat on the sofa beside me, a grim set to his jaw as he took my hand. "Are you sure you're all right?"

  "I'm more shaken than hurt. This…" I waved at my cheek, "…will fade in a few days. I'm sure it's not broken."

  "Yes, well. That fellow is a damned—" He pressed his lips together and didn't complete the sentence.

  "What happened? I mean, you must have been nearby to arrive so quickly. You and Quin."

  "I was coming to see you and had just turned into the street when I saw Alwyn on the doorstep. I was too far away to do anything, but I ran as soon as I realized he'd pushed his way in. Your friend St. Clair was coming from the opposite direction. He saw me running and realized something was amiss."

  "Amiss?" I smiled at the understatement. My cheek didn't hurt quite so much with the effort this time.

  He returned my smile. "We weren't fast enough to stop Alwyn from…doing that, unfortunately." His smile turned to a grimace. "I wish we had been."

  "I must look quite a sight."

  "You are as beautiful as always."

  A blush crept up my throat. I thanked him, although his compliment made me feel more self-conscious than anything. I wasn't used to being called beautiful and I knew I was far from it at that moment. Nevertheless, he was sweet to say it.

  "Cara, I'm worried about you."

  "Oh, I'm quite all right now. Alwyn won't threaten me anymore."

  "And all the other…troubles?"

  "Will be resolved soon too, I'm sure. Quin is seeing to that."

  His lips flattened. "Yes, he's very capable."

  Quin took that moment to walk in. Neither Nathaniel nor I heard his approach. While he didn't scowl or otherwise give any indication that he'd heard Nathaniel, he must have. He didn't meet my gaze but instead hung back near the door, as if he were uncertain. I was about to invite him further into the room when the housekeeper entered, carrying a tray of teacups and a teapot. She set the tray down on the table near me, took one look at my cheek, and gave a sympathetic cluck of her tongue.

  "Mrs. Beaufort will be most upset when she sees that," she told me.

  "I'm sure," I said.

  "Mr. Beaufort too."

  "I would appreciate it if you kept the details to yourselves for the time being. Just until I've informed them." Not that I had any intention of doing so. Hopefully by the time I saw them, the bruising would have reduced.

  "Sir?" She looked to Quin and jerked her head at my cheek.

  That's when I noticed he was holding a cloth. He came into the room and held it out to me. I wished he would apply the cool, damp cloth to my face, but he simply continued to hold it out. I took it and pressed it gently to my cheek, careful not to wince as I did so for fear the gentlemen would grow anxious.

  I waved to a chair. "Sit, Quin. Is Alwyn subdued?"

  He remained standing. "Aye."

  "Trussed up like a Christmas turkey, miss," the housekeeper said. "He doesn't look like a hoity-toity earl now, what with several bruises decorating his face."

  Several? I eyed Quin. He looked away.

  "Why did he come back here, do you think?" I asked.

  "He claimed he couldn't find anyone else," Quin said.

  I hadn't been expecting an answer, since Alwyn had seemed in no mood to talk to us. "He simply told you that?"

  "No," the housekeeper said, far too cheerfully considering the situation. "That's why he's got so many bruises and cuts now."

  Again, Quin looked away.

  "I suppose Alwyn was referring to my family and friends," I said. "Everyone except Charity, Tommy and Samuel are out of London." I blew out a breath, very glad that Samuel had taken care of them. He must have housed them away from his home.

  "Lord Alwyn had been drinking, miss." The housekeeper wrinkled her nose. "I could smell it on his breath."

  "Thank you for the tea. Please see that the police are let in promptly when they arrive."

  She left, and I expected Quin to finally sit but he didn't. "Thank you for taking care of Alwyn," I told him, lest he think I was judging him harshly for his treatment of the earl.

  He simply blinked in response.

  I accepted the tea that Nathaniel poured for me but couldn't hold the saucer, lift the cup and press the cloth to my cheek with only two hands. Quin knelt beside me and laid his hand gently over mine clutching the cloth. Our gazes connected and I saw deep regret lurking in them—regret that he'd not been there to stop Alwyn.

  I rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping that gesture would do something to assuage his concerns. His eyelids fluttered closed, ever so briefly, and he drew in a long, careful and somewhat shuddery breath.

  Nathaniel's teacup clanked loudly in his saucer. Quin's eyes opened and he set the cloth down on the table. "I have to go," he said, standing. "I'm still searching for Edith Myer."

  "Yes, of course. Did you want something?" At his blank look, I added, "Your reason for visiting this afternoon."

  "I came to see you." Again his gaze slipped to my cheek and the corners of his eyes tightened. "I should have come earlier."

  I caught his hand before he walked off. I wanted to ask him if he'd return later, but I felt awkward with Nathaniel listening in. Besides, Quin had an important task to oversee; one that required his full attention. He couldn't afford to be distracted by me.

  "Thank you again," I said, squeezing his hand in what felt like a ridiculously inadequate show of gratitude and affection. "Take care."

  He heaved in a deep sigh, as if he'd made up his mind after a battle with himself to say something. Except it wasn't me he spoke to. He turned to Nathaniel. "Take care of her."

  He left before I'd had a chance to catch my breath. I blinked back tears and willed my hands to stop trembling. I had to set down the teacup and saucer because they rattled too much.

  "Cara?" Nathaniel said gently. "Will you be all right?"

  "Yes," I whispered. "I'm a little rattled at the moment."

  "Of course." He patted my arm. "Can I get you anything?"

  "No, but there is something you can do for me. I want to tell Samuel Gladstone and my other friends what happened here. They need to know that the threat from Alwyn is over."

  "I'll send the footman as soon as the police have removed Alwyn from your kitchen."

  "Thank you." I leaned back against the sofa and shut my eyes. When I was finally alone, I would take a long bath.

  ***

  I didn't get to have my bath until after supper. There was far too much to do beforehand. First of all the police arrived. While the constables removed Alwyn, the detective inspector interviewed witnesses. I'd managed to convince Nathaniel and the servants not to mention Quin's presence and felt sure they would comply. After all, Nathaniel knew Quin wouldn't be around much longer and it would look suspicious if he suddenly disappeared. He assured me he was keen to see Alwyn punished, and that meant keeping Quin a secret or the police might begin to have doubts. It also meant that Nathaniel received all the praise for thwarting Alwyn, much to his embarrassment. He made certain some of the praise was passed on to the male servants, which seemed to secure their silence on the matter of Quin. I was thankful there were only a few servants to keep silent and not the full number of staff. They were all loyal to Jacob and Emily, but it was still a rather important secret to keep.

  I didn't see Alwyn get carted away, and I was glad of it. His presence was unnerving and the thought of him being in my house, where I was supposed to feel safe, would probably give me nightmares that night.

  The doctor inspected my cheek while the police were still gathering details. He declared nothing broken, thank goodness, and prescribed a topical ointment. It was too late to send anyone out to buy a jar from the pharmacy by the time he left, but I resolved to get some in the morning.

  It wasn't until after he departed that I realized Nathaniel was still there. H
e'd been following the inspector around, perhaps to ensure no one mentioned Quin to him inadvertently.

  "Would you like to stay for dinner?" I asked, hoping he would say no. "The servants are out of sorts, but I'm sure they can put something together."

  "No, thank you. I wouldn't want to inconvenience the household any more than they have been already. Besides, you must be tired."

  Since I had just suppressed a yawn, I could hardly tell him I was fine. "Thank you for your help today, Nathaniel. I mean it. Not just earlier, when Alwyn came, but afterward. Your presence has been a comfort." It was the truth, I realized. Having him there had been of more benefit than I ever imagined. He ensured no one bothered me while the doctor visited, kept the servants busy and the police focused. Part of me wanted him to stay and keep me company into the evening.

  My feelings surprised and troubled me. How could I think fondly of Nathaniel when I was in love with Quin? It must have been because Nathaniel was available. It wasn't his presence I specifically needed, just someone. As soon as Samuel and the others arrived, the need to have him there would disappear. Perhaps.

  "Did you send someone to Samuel's house?"

  "The footman. He said Mr. Gladstone wasn't at home, and left a message for him to be told of what transpired here. I'm surprised he hasn't come yet."

  "I'm sure he will soon."

  He frowned. "I hope not tonight. You need your rest, Cara. Doctor's orders."

  "I know. I'm sure if Samuel gets the message tonight he'll leave his visit until the morning."

  He seemed satisfied with that. For a moment, he simply stood in the sitting room, his weight poised on the balls of his feet as if he wanted to move, and quickly. A small line connected his brows and he looked uncertain. I thought perhaps he wanted to flee, but then he suddenly came to my side and sat down on the sofa.

  "Cara…if you find yourself in need of…a friend, I hope you will consider me." His gaze lifted to mine and I suspected that "friend" had not been the first word on his lips.

  I was grateful that it was the one he uttered, however. I took his hands in mine. "I already consider you a friend, Nathaniel." It wasn't quite what he'd meant, but it was all I could give him. "You've been wonderful, and I won't forget what you've done for me today."

  His eyes searched mine, hopeful. Was he looking for a sign that I might one day call him more than friend? "But—"

  "Nathaniel." I tightened my hold on his hands, then let go. "Please."

  His smile was wistful. "Goodnight, Cara. I'll check on you tomorrow."

  I watched him leave and was glad that he didn't look over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. While I was grateful for his company, and the way he'd taken care of me, I couldn't consider him a potential beau, and it would have shown on my face.

  Quin was my only love and always would be. While I knew I could, and probably would, experience companionship with other men, there would never be anyone else who could set my heart on fire with just a single look. It was a precious and rare thing to experience desire, contentedness and companionship with one man, and I wasn't going to give him up without a fight.

  Somehow.

  When I finally sank into the warm water of the bathtub, which had been set up in my bedroom, I let the tears that I'd been holding in all afternoon flow. I'd always thought myself strong, after experiencing the darker side of humanity in my childhood, but one confrontation some eight years later had set me back and brought a well of emotions to the surface again. My life had become comfortable and mostly absent of fear and vulnerability. Even battling demons and evil spirits hadn't brought this reaction. Perhaps because Quin had been by my side at those times, and I missed him now. Desperately.

  The soft click of my bedroom door opening cut off my tears. My heart leapt into my throat. Oh God. I opened my mouth to scream but closed it again when Quin slipped in.

  "Bloody hell!" I hissed at him. "You scared the bleeding guts out of me!"

  He gawped at me and it took me a moment to realize he wasn't shocked by my childhood gutter language but by my nakedness. I was still in the bathtub, my top half visible above the water. Perhaps shocked isn't the right word. He was certainly speechless for several moments but the sudden flare in his eyes wasn't from surprise.

  Heat warmed my cheeks and I went to cover myself, but he quickly turned away to face the wall. "I, uh…" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "My apologies, Cara. I thought you were asleep."

  "And you were going to sneak in and do what?"

  "Nothing! Just…check that you were, er, sleeping."

  "Quin, I'm quite sure that even in medieval times, that wasn't allowed."

  "I can only apologize again. I wasn't thinking clearly." He shut the door and rested his hand against the frame. He bowed his head. "I was worried about you. I didn't think the servants would allow me to check on you if you were asleep, and I didn't want them to wake you."

  "So you broke into the house?"

  "It wasn't difficult. One of the rear windows was unlocked."

  "On the ground level?"

  "The second."

  Good Lord, he was going to get himself— Oh.

  My heartbeat slowed and my temper dampened. I felt foolish for admonishing him. Of course he hadn't been planning on doing anything wicked. He'd had dozens of opportunities already and hadn't done anything more than kiss me.

  "Thank you for your concern," I said gently. "I'm all right."

  "I thought I heard crying."

  "You just said you thought I was sleeping."

  "Ah." He cleared his throat again. "I…can't recall now."

  I smiled at his back. Poor Quin. He seemed rather embarrassed. Not that he'd left yet me alone to dress. Not that I'd let him leave.

  "Would you mind passing me that towel?" I asked.

  "You want to get out?" His voice came out as a husky rasp.

  My smile widened. "Yes."

  "With me here?"

  "Of course. You're not looking. Are you?"

  "No!"

  "You medieval men are such prudes. I wouldn't have guessed. Not that the history books mention anything about that side of things."

  "What's a prude?"

  "It means prim, demure."

  He grunted. "I am not a prude."

  "No? So you're not blushing over there as you stare at the wall?"

  "Nor do I blush." He'd half turned his face so that it was in profile. I wondered if he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. "From what I've seen of this time, it's you who are the prudes."

  Nobody could ever accuse me of backing down from a challenge. I stood. Quin turned fully to face me. There was certainly no shock in his eyes this time. The look he gave me could have set the copper tub on fire it was so hot. His gaze swept my length, but did not linger, and returned to my face. The dark intensity of desire swirled in their depths.

  He lifted the towel off the back of the chair and approached me. He held it up and I stepped out of the tub and into the soft fabric. The act of wrapping it around me drew us close, trapping my arms at my sides. His arms circled me. My breasts pressed against his chest.

  "Well," I murmured, tilting my face to his. "It would seem you're right. You're not blushing."

  The corner of his mouth flicked up in an attempt at a smile, but it quickly vanished. His hands splayed at my back and I wished there was no towel, only skin. I dripped water all over the floor and his boots, but I didn't care. Nor, I was sure, did he.

  He lowered his face to mine and breathed deeply, drawing my scent in. His lips kissed my bruised cheek, more soothing than any balm. He kissed his way down my jaw to my chin until finally he met my parted, waiting lips. My blood throbbed through my veins in response and drowned out the small voice suggesting caution. One of his hands moved to the back of my head, and he deepened the kiss.

  He kissed me as if it was our first time, and our last.

  With our bodies connected, I could feel the rapid, erratic pounding of his he
art in his chest, and the tightness of his muscles as he restrained himself. It was a thrilling, searing kiss that blew away any lingering inhibitions I felt at being naked under the towel. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, touch his hair, his face, his chest, and I struggled against the confines of the towel.

  He eased back but did not break the kiss entirely. "Don't move," he murmured against my lips. "If you touch me… I may be dead, but I'm still a man."

  "I don't care."

  He drew back completely and studied me. "I do." The ache in his words implied he almost wished he didn't.

  "Surely there wouldn't be any consequences. You might be able to…perform…but your seed would be…er…"

  "Unable to grow?"

  "Precisely."

  "I'm not willing to ruin you, Cara, no matter how willing you are."

  I sighed and rested my forehead against his chest. It was a discussion we'd already had, and I doubted I would change his opinion. Not with words, anyway. And if I did, he might never be able to forgive himself. He was the sort of man who took responsibility even when events weren't entirely his fault.

  He bent and kissed my bare shoulder. "I will go."

  "Not yet. Can't you stay a while longer and…talk?"

  He seemed to be considering that when the door handle rattled and the maid said, "Are you finished—"

  "Wait!" I cried out, stepping away from Quin. "Don't come in yet! Stay there."

  "Miss Moreau?" she said through the gap. "Is everything all right?"

  "Yes! I'm just enjoying my bath too much to get out yet." I untangled my arm from the towel and dipped my hand in the water to splash it. "Would you mind making me some hot chocolate?"

  "Of course, miss."

  "Take your time."

  The door closed and I wiped my wet hand down the towel. "That was close."

  Quin's eyebrow quirked.

  "All right, all right," I said on another sigh. "Perhaps ruining myself tonight wasn't such a good idea."

  He rested his hands on my shoulders and stroked my collar bone. "Neither is talking. Goodnight, Cara." He kissed my forehead and headed for the door.

  He gave me a sad smile then slipped out into the corridor.

  ***