Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Austin reclined in a padded leather wing chair, his feet propped on an ottoman and stretched out before the fire, his exhausted body wrapped in a blanket.

  She stepped around him and walked to the bed.

  Her gaze lowered to Gabriel’s prone body and for the first time since he’d left her, she allowed the emotions she’d locked away to surface.

  She needed to face how she felt and deal with it. Conquering any leftover affection she harbored for him was the only way to prove she no longer cared for him. If she was ever to give her love to another man, she needed to extinguish every ember of emotion she felt for him. She couldn’t risk having one spark of the former love she possessed for Gabriel come to life.

  Her gaze rested on his face. Soft shadows outlined his still form beneath the covers. She listened, fearing she was too late and he’d died alone. Then he moaned as if in agony, and she hardened her heart to make sure that any love she’d ever felt for him was dead and buried so deeply there was no way to unearth it. She was wiser now than she’d been before, more prepared.

  “Never again,” she whispered with a bitterness that shocked even her. She would never care for him again.

  She forced herself to watch his shallow breathing. With each small rise and fall of his chest she reminded herself that he’d been the one who’d abandoned her.

  She stood without moving, her eyes taking in his battered body, her mind coming to grips with his nearness, her heart refusing to recognize the place he once occupied. Satisfied that he was as comfortable as they could make him, she turned and—

  “Don’t...go.”

  His pathetically weak voice cut through the silence as forcefully as if his words had been a command, and she stopped.

  For several long seconds she didn’t turn around—couldn’t turn around. It was one thing to be near him when he didn’t know she was there, but more troubling to be with him when he did.

  “It’s late,” she said and continued toward the door.

  “Please …”

  She halted, then slowly turned.

  His eyes remained closed. His head rested on the pillow.

  She didn’t know how he’d realized she was there, but she wasn’t surprised. It had been uncanny how attuned they’d been to each other, how they’d always known when the other was near.

  With her resolve firmly in place, she slowly walked back to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Water. Please.”

  She filled a glass with water. “Here.” She placed one hand beneath his head and lifted him.

  She raised the glass to his lips and he took only one sip before he sagged back into her arms. Her blood turned warm and thundered in her head but she refused to allow her mind to consider that he still had the power to affect her. She eased his head back onto the pillow and straightened.

  His face had no more color than it had earlier and she heard a catch in his breathing followed by a heavy sigh.

  “Do you need something for the pain?”

  He shook his head.

  “Go back to sleep, then. You need to rest.”

  “There’ll be...plenty of time for that...later.”

  She pulled back and glared at him. “You’re not going to die, Gabriel. So just get that thought out of your head.”

  He didn’t answer her, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he were trying to smile. “I’ll...do my...best.”

  “You’ll do more than that. My brother didn’t work as hard as he did to keep you alive only to have you die on him now that he has you home. You need to rest so you can get better.”

  She turned again but his voice stopped her.

  “Do I still have...my legs?”

  A sharp pain stabbed through her chest and she went back. She knew what it would mean to him if one or both of his legs were gone. She couldn’t imagine a man more unsuited to being confined inside, a man who enjoyed riding and being out of doors more than Gabriel. She looked down to the bottom of the bed, then back to the vacant look in his eyes. “Yes, you still have your legs.”

  His eyes closed for a long second. “They say you can...feel them...even when they’re not there.”

  “They didn’t take them off. Austin wouldn’t let them. You can thank him for your pain.”

  “I’ll thank him later.”

  She stood quietly and watched him breathe. He wasn’t asleep, but there was nothing more to say. She turned to see Austin walking toward her. A frown covered his face.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I came to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

  “Go. Being here won’t help you or Gabe.”

  She stared at the determined look on Austin’s face, then lowered her gaze to where Gabriel lay. “You can’t care for him by yourself, Austin. You’re going to need help. Show me how much laudanum to give him. He’ll need something soon for the pain.”

  “I’ve cared for him since we left.”

  “Which is probably why you look like you’re ready to collapse.”

  She straightened the covers on the bed, watching while Austin mixed the dark liquid in a small glass of wine. When he finished, he raised Gabriel’s head and let him drink.

  “It will be better soon,” Austin said, lowering Gabe to the pillow.

  Within minutes he was asleep. But Lydia was afraid to shift her gaze from the shallow rise and fall of his chest. There’d been something so final about the way he’d spoken. She stood next to the bed and watched him.

  Austin remained by her for several long seconds, then shoved his hands in his pocket and walked to the window.

  She couldn’t see her brother’s face but knew there were worry lines etched in his forehead.

  “If there had been anyplace else to take him, I would have, but even the hospitals aren’t—”

  He left his sentence unfinished and walked back to check on Gabriel.

  “It doesn’t matter, Austin. As far as I’m concerned, Gabriel Talbot died a year ago.”

  Austin smiled. “I think he tried to make that a reality. He risked his life more times than any soldier over there. There was a joke among the officers that he’d infiltrated the enemy’s camp so often the Russians thought he was one of their own.”

  Lydia tried to ignore the surge of pride and fear that washed over her.

  Austin patted her hand, then gave it a gentle squeeze. “Go to bed so you get at least a little sleep before it’s time to get up.”

  She looked at Gabriel’s sleeping form. “Will you be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. He’s resting now.”

  She gave her brother a quick hug, then left the room.

  When she stepped out into the hallway, she stopped long enough to fight the tears that blurred her eyes. He’d live. She prayed he would. But that didn’t change anything.

  To her heart he was still dead.

  …

  “Lie still, Gabe. You’ll tear your stitches open.”

  Gabe heard Austin’s voice but couldn’t follow the order. He had to escape the mêlée, the violence and bloodshed. The pandemonium and confusion were unimaginable. Bullets flew all around him. Sabers swung through the air. The ground thundered as if a thousand cavalry mounts bore down on him. But it wasn’t a thousand. It was only one. And there wasn’t a human sitting atop the giant destrier. The rider was a monster with fire raging from his nose and mouth, with lightning flashing from his eyes.

  The sword in his hand was long and wide, felling dozens of innocent men, women, and children with each fatal swoop. Gabriel knew he couldn’t escape the demon. Knew there was no way to avoid death. He no longer wanted to. It was time. He’d fought long enough. Endured enough.

  “Gabe, no! Wake up, Gabe! Fight, damn you! Fight!”

  Gabriel turned to face his enemy. He braced his feet wide and held his arms out from his sides. He had no sword with which to defend himself, nor a gun with even one last bullet, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t die cowering like a frig
htened child. He’d face death as boldly as he’d gone into every battle, knowing what the outcome might be.

  Gabriel took one last gasping breath and…

  “Gabe, no! Liddy, help me!”

  Austin’s voice shattered through the hazy fog, then...hers.

  “Gabriel, come back. Right now!”

  He walked steadily onward, toward the bright light in the distance. If only he could reach it, he was certain he wouldn’t feel the pain anymore. If only he could reach it—

  She called out to him again. “Don’t you dare give up!”

  He hesitated, then looked again to the light. It was still there but not quite as bright. He had to hurry or he wouldn’t reach it.

  “Gabriel, open your eyes! Look at me!”

  It was Liddy. Her touch. Her hand clutching his. Her pleas calling him back.

  “Gabriel, don’t you dare leave me. I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

  Then her voice became a gentle whisper that brushed against his cheek.

  “Don’t you dare leave me. Please, don’t leave me here alone. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Something wet ran down his cheek. A tear? He was hardly deserving of her tears. Another drop hit his cheek.

  He heard her soft cry and moved his gaze from the light. When he looked back, the light was gone and he knew he’d missed his chance to escape this misery.

  “Don’t...cry.”

  “I’m not crying. I cried over you once. Never again.”

  A small slit of light invaded the shadows and he focused on her. In his mind’s eye he knew how she’d look. He’d imagined her likeness every hour of every day since he’d left her. But he didn’t remember her eyes being so blue. Or her hair so golden. Or her features so lovely.

  She had the face of an angel, one more beautiful than any artist could paint. Her complexion was as clear as porcelain, her cheeks flushed pink, her lips full and silky smooth, as if they’d been made for kissing. And her eyes.

  A man could get lost in those eyes, huge and deep blue, with long, velvety lashes. Except the warmth he remembered was absent. A coldness sat in its place, a bitterness he knew he was responsible for creating.

  He breathed a ragged sigh.

  “Liddy?” he whispered, wanting to hear her voice once more. But she didn’t answer him. She was gone.

  “That’s for the...best,” he said to himself.

  But inside he felt a loss exactly like he’d felt when he walked away from her in another lifetime.

  Chapter Five

  She was like a moth drawn to the proverbial flame.

  She’d managed to stay away from him for over a week now, but she was weakening and couldn’t find the strength to help herself. Worry consumed every hour of her day and the desire to go to him was like a cancer that ate away at her.

  It was suddenly important that she recall every hurtful word he’d spoken to her the day he’d walked out of her life—every reason he’d given her for not wanting to marry her. She encouraged the anger she felt for him to smolder hot enough to fuel her temper. She could never forget what he’d done to her. Never forget how he’d so callously toyed with her affections, pretending to love her, allowing her to open her heart to him, when all he’d wanted was her dowry.

  Every time she remembered how she’d run to him after he’d spoken with her father, expecting him to tell her he’d convinced her father that he loved her with a passion equal to hers, she felt another bitter stab of humiliation.

  To add to her embarrassment, she remembered his condescending manner when he’d tapped her nose and called her a silly goose, as if she were a child. As if she were some stupid imbecile who should have known his declarations of love had purse strings attached to them.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been so naïve.

  She bolted to her feet. She would never let any man take advantage of her like that again.

  Her angry steps carried her to his room and she turned the knob without hesitation. She fully expected to find Hannah, who’d been Lydia’s maid and was now Major Talbot’s nurse, keeping vigil while Gabriel slept soundly. What she saw stopped her feet from moving forward.

  Hannah rushed from one side of the room to the other, hurrying to change the linens on the bed, while Austin and one of the servants, named Morgan, lifted Gabriel’s shoulders and turned his torso.

  His pain was obvious. From the deep furrows that etched his forehead and the heavy sheen of perspiration that covered a face already void of color, his torment was evident. His lips were pursed tightly as if to cut off a scream.

  She couldn’t care. She wouldn’t care.

  “Hold on, Gabe,” Austin said, his face flushed from exertion. “Hannah’s almost done. I have your medicine ready for you.”

  “Bloody...hell...Austin,” Gabriel uttered through clenched teeth. He breathed a jagged sigh when they laid him back down.

  “All finished, Major,” Hannah said, her ample bosom heaving as she took in several ragged breaths.

  Lydia watched as Gabriel collapsed against the covers. The sight of him in such pain wrenched her stomach. Austin must have felt it too. He bent at the waist and braced one hand on his knee while he anchored the other against a bedpost at the foot of the bed.

  “Are you all right, Gabe?” he asked.

  Color slowly returned to Gabriel’s face. “Of course,” he sighed. “You keep telling me I’ve already survived the worst of it.”

  “So I do.”

  “I’m not fooled. You do this because you...enjoy seeing me...suffer.”

  A smile crossed Austin’s face, but his lopsided grin faded when he turned his head and saw her. “You shouldn’t be here, Liddy.”

  She waited until Hannah and Morgan left, then put on a determined air of bravado and walked into the room. “Of course I should be here. This is my home. The major is our guest. Surely you don’t expect me to avoid him forever?”

  “That’s exactly what I expect.”

  She ignored her brother’s caustic remark and covered the distance to the bed. “Hello, Gabriel.”

  “Lydia.”

  He’d been washed and shaved, probably by Austin’s valet, and his bedclothes had been changed. Her heart stuttered inside her breast.

  He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Not handsome in the same way as the Marquess of Culbertson, with his blond good looks and his aristocratic features. But handsome in a different way—in a darker way.

  He should have appeared weak, lying on the bed unable to move by himself. Instead, his rugged features and sculpted muscles made him appear strong and vibrant.

  His dark hair was brushed off his forehead, and hung longer than he usually wore it. Her hands wanted to reach out to touch it. Her fingers ached to feel the weight of it. She pulled her hands back and clutched fistfuls of the material of her muslin day dress to anchor them at her side.

  What was wrong with her? Her purpose for coming wasn’t to admire the traits she’d always loved in him. It was to prove to herself and to him that there was no longer anything between them—to prove that when he rejected her, he’d killed whatever feelings she’d had for him.

  Lydia raised her chin to assume that regal posture she’d been taught from her youth and lowered her gaze to the bed.

  “Everyone tells me you’re improving by the day. I came to see if there’s anything you need.”

  “There’s nothing. Thank you.”

  She should leave. She knew Austin wanted her to, and perhaps even Gabriel did. Instead, she lowered herself to the chair beside the bed and clasped her hands in her lap in a relaxed posture, as if being this close to him was the most natural thing in the world.

  “When you’re better, you and Austin can go riding. Harrison still has that big gray you used to ride. No one’s ridden him since you left and he desperately needs the exercise.”

  Gabriel smiled. “He was a beautiful horse.”

  Austin held out a glass of wine laced with laudanum but Gabriel m
otioned it away.

  “But not as fast as Hercules,” Austin said.

  “You can tell Austin longs for the country,” she said. “He hates the city nearly as much as you used to, although I can’t understand why. The entertainment here is endless.”

  “Do you...enjoy London now?” he asked, his voice still faltering a bit from his general weakness.

  She snapped her gaze to where he lay on the bed watching her. She knew what he meant by his question. There’d been a time when neither of them could wait to set up a home far away from London. A time when neither of them enjoyed the noise, the filth, or the smell. A time when they both shared the same hope.

  Until he’d shattered her dream.

  “Yes. I love the city.”

  She rose from her chair and walked to the window. She pretended the need to adjust the drapery as an excuse not to look at him. “There’s never an end of things to do.” She looked over her shoulder and focused her gaze on Austin. “Did I tell you I’m attending the Biltmore Ball tonight? The Marquess of Culbertson has invited me to accompany him.”

  “Liddy, don’t,” Austin said, but she ignored his warning. It was important for Gabriel to know she’d picked up the pieces of her life and had moved on. That she intended to have the future she’d dreamed of having—without him.

  She released her hold on the fringed drapery and turned to face the bed. “You don’t mind listening to my plans, do you, Major? You never used to.”

  “I’d be...delighted.”

  “Well, the Biltmore Ball is one of the most prestigious affairs of the Season. Everyone will be there.”

  “And you enjoy the...crush?”

  She gave him her broadest smile. “I adore it. Especially when I’m in such pleasant company as the marquess.” She turned back to the window. “This isn’t the first social function to which I’ve accompanied him. Night before last we attended a dinner at Lord Westmore’s. Next week Lord Culbertson has asked me to accompany him to the Kennsington Ball.”

  Lydia put a tie around one of the lightweight inside linen panels that still fluttered at the window and took a step away from it to evaluate her handiwork. “Lord Culbertson has been such a dear to allow me this year of mourning, but he does seem to have become quite a bit impatient of late. I daresay that doesn’t surprise you, does it? You knew marriage was what his father intended when you handed me over to him.”