Brotherhood 02 - Broken Promise

by Laura Landon

  As if he knew what she’d been thinking, his thumb traced a circle on her flesh.

  She should pull her hand away. She would if this were any other man touching her. But she couldn’t pull away from this man. She didn’t want to.

  She watched his movements and evaluated the stirrings his touch caused. She would have to be very careful. He was awakening emotions she wasn’t strong enough to handle right now. He was a man she should fear, a man who wanted to take Jonathan away from her. A man who was loyal to a fault—to Penderly. Handing Jonathan over to the earl had been his goal from the beginning. Allowing herself to become attracted to him would give him an advantage that could destroy her.

  She looked up from where their fingers connected. He was watching her and their gazes locked. His deep blue eyes stared at her with confusion and—relief.

  “You’re awake,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I’m glad. You had me worried.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes, you were very ill.”

  She lowered her gaze so he couldn’t look into her eyes. She didn’t want him to be able to read what she knew she couldn’t hide. Didn’t want him to know how much his concern meant to her.

  “Are you thirsty?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought his fingers gently squeezed hers before he released them.

  He left her side and poured water into a glass, then sat on the bed beside her.

  “I’ll help you sit. Relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but it will probably hurt to move.”

  He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and lifted. She wasn’t prepared for the sharp twinge and a gasp escaped before she could stop it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No, it wasn’t you. I just…”

  “I know. Relax against me and let me do the work.”

  She did what he told her to do. It didn’t hurt nearly as much. When he lifted the glass to her mouth, she drank one swallow, and then another.

  When she finished, he lowered her back to the bed.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Asleep?” He laughed. “You’ve been asleep nearly three days.”

  “Three?”

  “Yes. At least it will be this afternoon.”

  “Is that how long it’s been since you’ve slept?”

  He smiled.

  She loved his smile. It hid the hooded darkness in his eyes, the telltale torment that never quite went away. And his smiles deepened the two strong lines on either side of his mouth. Lines she was sure had been a natural part of his features in a former, more carefree life. She wondered what had caused the change and knew it had something to do with the war.

  His smile broadened. “Do I look that bad?”

  She shook her head. “You look tired.”

  “I’ve never been known to sleep well.”

  “Why?”

  He released her fingers and sat back in his chair. She missed his touch and wanted to reach for him again.

  “Are you always so curious?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

  She breathed a heavy sigh. She’d never considered herself curious. Not about people, at least. About knowledge and books and the written word, yes, but not about people. Perhaps that was because she’d never met anyone she was curious about, anyone she wanted to know so much about.

  “Did you see who tried to kill Jonathan?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Did you?”

  “Not long enough to be able to describe him. I caught a glimpse of him when I stooped to get Jonathan’s rag toy. Actually, his gun is what drew my attention.”

  “Did you notice anything about him? Anything at all?”

  Sarah thought hard. “He wore a black coat and a funny hat.”

  “A funny hat?”

  “Yes, it was round.”

  “Like a bowler?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen a bowler.”

  “What else did you notice about him?”

  She sank back against the pillow and closed her eyes. Her head suddenly hurt. “Nothing, really. Except he was dressed too well for the country. Like he didn’t belong here.”

  She didn’t need to open her eyes to know Captain Landwell had risen from his chair and paced the room. She heard him move from one side to the other. He was undoubtedly piecing together the information she’d given him.

  “Do you think it could have been the same man who broke into your home in Wakemoor?”

  “No.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  She’d answered too fast. Sounded too sure of her answer. She felt the blood drain from her face and she turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “I just don’t think it was.”

  “Because it couldn’t be?”

  She shivered. “No, it couldn’t be.”

  “Because you killed him?”

  The room spun around her and her free hand clutched at the covers. “Yes, I killed him,” she finally answered. “How did you know?”

  “You mentioned it. Fevers cause us to reveal secrets.”

  Her stomach rolled and she thought she might be ill. “What else did I say?”

  “Nothing else that was important. Just that you killed the attacker. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened? And don’t leave anything out.”

  Sarah didn’t want anyone to know what she’d done but she didn’t have a choice now. Austin needed to know.

  She quivered and he pulled more covers over her. His concern comforted her, his nearness calmed her.

  “I watched the man enter the room,” she said. “When he lifted the cover to place it over Jonathan’s face, I hit him with a poker from the fireplace. He was a big man and I knew I’d have to hit him hard to stop him.” Sarah stopped as she remembered that night. “When I hit him, he fell to the floor. At first I thought I’d just stunned him, but when he wasn’t breathing, I realized I’d killed him.”

  Sarah couldn’t stop trembling. She shivered deep within her bones. Even her lips wouldn’t stop quivering.

  Captain Landwell sat beside her and gently gathered her in his arms. His hands traveled over her back, quieting her, soothing her.

  “It’s over now. You’re all right.” He held her for several moments longer without speaking, then asked, “What did you do with the body?”

  “I…I dragged him from the house and pushed his body into the stream. We’d had a lot of rain and the current was swift. I watched him float downstream until he disappeared.”

  She drew a shaking hand across the tears that spilled over her lashes, then looked up. She knew she looked terrible. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were streaked with tears. But she couldn’t erase the one question that had caused her so many sleepless nights. “Will they hang me?”

  He secured his hold around her. “No, they won’t hang you.”

  A blanket of relief washed over her. Everything would be all right. Captain Landwell would make sure it was. She sagged against him.

  “Rest now,” he said and lowered her back to the pillows. “You don’t have to worry about anything now except getting well.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  The look he gave her, the soft smile, and the sincere expression combined to fill her heart to overflowing. In that moment, she lost her resolve to keep from falling in love with him. “Do you believe now that someone wants Jonathan dead?”

  He looked down on her. “Oh, yes. There’s no doubt that someone intends to kill him. My question is, who? And why?”

  She shifted her gaze to his. There was such intelligence in his eyes, such a sharp understanding of what was going on around him. She couldn’t believe he still doubted the Earl of Penderly’s guilt.

  “Surely you don’t think someone other than Penderly was behind the attempts?”

  He rose to his feet. “In my business it�
��s wise to consider all possibilities.”

  “What other possibilities?”

  His refusal to accept the obvious made her angry. What hold did Penderly have over him that made him refuse to see the earl’s guilt?

  She wanted to sit up, to face him on an even level but when she moved, a stabbing pain seared through her shoulder. His hands pressed against her.

  “Don’t move. You’re not strong enough yet to move. Just stay still.”

  She sank back against the mattress and felt her weakness overtake her. “And when I am strong enough? What then?”

  “We’ll do what we must. We’ll go to London and confront the Earl of Penderly.”

  The blood drained from her face. Her heart thundered inside her head. The Earl of Penderly had seen Collette Flemming. He knew what she looked like. He’d know Sarah was an imposter.

  Her mind spun with every option she had left to her. She had to escape with Jonathan. Whoever had tried to kill him wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

  Wave after wave of panic consumed her and it became harder to breathe.

  He sat beside the bed and reached for her hand. “Concern yourself with getting better, my lady. You’re not ready to travel to London yet.”

  “Don’t you understand? We can’t go to London. I can’t—”

  The door opened and Mrs. Pollock entered. “Oh, you’re awake.” She clasped her hands together in what looked like a prayer. “I told Captain Landwell that you’d be back with us today.”

  She looked at the innkeeper’s wife and tried to smile. She owed the lady so much. “Thank you, Mrs. Pollock. I’ll never be able to repay you for everything you did.”

  “Nonsense, my lady. It’s the captain you owe. He took care of you. I just watched the babe—and that was a treat. It was like taking care of my grandbabies. I don’t get to do that near as much as I want since my daughter and her husband moved a day and a half’s ride away.”

  Sarah thought she might die of embarrassment. She assumed Mrs. Pollock had taken care of her. Not Austin Landwell. She turned her head and forced her gaze to meet his. “You took care of me?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had experience nursing a fever, and absolutely none with babies. It seemed the best way to divide our tasks.”

  Her cheeks burned. How could she face him again? He’d cared for her. Changed her clothing. Probably seen her naked.

  She knew she shouldn’t feel such humiliation. Collette Flemming was an actress, she’d been on stage night after night wearing revealing costumes while hundreds of men ogled her. And, she’d been a married lady. She’d had a child. Surely someone with that background wouldn’t be all that shocked because a stranger had seen her?

  But Sarah hadn’t been or done any of those things.

  Thankfully, he turned his attention back to Mrs. Pollock. “Maudie, would it be possible to send up some hot water so Lady Fledgemont can wash, then some toast and tea.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Mrs. Pollock hurried to the door. “Jeremy should be up lighting fires. I’ll send him up with water. I’ll bring a tray right after, and some warm milk. We’re lucky the wee lad is still asleep. He’s usually awake by now demanding to be fed.”

  Mrs. Pollock left the room and they were alone. “I’m sorry you had to care for me.”

  “Don’t be. You survived.”

  She shifted her gaze and stared out the window. “I thought perhaps I wouldn’t. Was I dreaming?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. I’m grateful for everything you did.”

  He seemed embarrassed. Such a reaction seemed strange coming from him. Perhaps he wasn’t used to being complimented.

  “Hot water should arrive shortly. Would you like to use the necessary?” He nodded toward a screen in the corner of the room.

  “Yes, but…”

  “I’ll carry you over, then give you some privacy.”

  He didn’t give her time to argue or make excuses, but gently lifted her from the covers. He carried her behind the screen and lowered her to a chair. “Can you manage from here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Mrs. Pollock will be here soon. She can help you wash.”

  He turned, but she couldn’t let him leave without thanking him. She wouldn’t have survived without him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  His midnight-blue eyes focused on her, then he lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you decided to stay with us.”

  She wanted to place her hand atop his and hold his palm to her cheek. She wanted to keep him near her forever. She’d always known her future was with Jonathan. Now, she wanted Austin be a part of her future, too.

  “I’ll wait out in the hall,” he said on his way out of the room. “Call when you’re ready to get back in bed.”

  She watched him walk away. She wasn’t sure what power he had over her, but it was a force she prayed she was strong enough to battle. Suddenly, she realized with alarm, she was more confused than she’d ever been.

  Chapter 9

  “Captain! Hurry!”

  Austin heard a dull thump from inside her room and knew Lady Fledgemont had fallen even before Maude called for help.

  Austin shifted Jonathan in his arms and raced into the room. Without lifting his gaze from her prone figure on the floor, he handed Jonathan to Mrs. Pollock and dropped down beside Lady Fledgemont.

  “I’m fine,” she said in a voice that belied her words. “I simply lost my footing.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, then gently pressed his hand against her when she tried to rise. “Don’t move. I want to look at your shoulder.”

  “I’m fine. I just—” A sharp gasp cut off her words.

  He ignored her protests and pulled back the neckline of her fresh gown. Thankfully, there was no sign of blood.

  “Put your arm around my neck. I’m going to carry you back to bed.”

  She wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck and he lifted her into his arms. Their gazes locked and held. He wanted to soak in the emotions pelting him, wanted to get them back under control.

  A heavy weight settled inside his chest. His heart swelled with a response so profound he could hardly breathe. Every time he was near her he wanted to protect her so nothing bad ever happened to her again. Except, once he handed Jonathan over to the Earl of Penderly, she’d hate him.

  He shoved that thought to the back of his mind and concentrated on making sure she was all right.

  “Take deep breaths,” he ordered. He shifted his gaze to her eyes. The ebony centers darkened and his heart pounded like the steady beating of battle drums. He couldn’t believe she didn’t hear it. Or perhaps she did.

  Her gaze concentrated on the thin scar that ran down his cheek. It wasn’t overly noticeable, but had it repulsed her? He didn’t think it had, for she didn’t look away. She studied it a moment before her focus moved to his mouth.

  The desire he’d felt for her from the beginning surged with new-found urgency. Need and want wrapped around him like wool on a tightly-wound ball of yarn.

  He tried to pull his gaze from her face, but he couldn’t. His eyes took in the two growing circles on her cheeks and he knew he was responsible for their redness. He memorized her every feature—her gently curved eyebrows that seemed a shade lighter than her mahogany-hued hair, the slight tilt to her pert little nose, and her lush, kissable lips.

  As if holding her in his arms wasn’t torture enough, she chose that moment to run her tongue from one side of her mouth to the other and dampen her lips. His body reacted with a force that startled him.

  “I need to get you back to bed,” he said, his voice lower than usual. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. And even though he knew he should move, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to put her down.

  There were voices in the hall. Mrs. Pollock moved to answer a knock at the door, and when he turned, he came face to face wit
h his sister and brother-in-law.

  His breath caught along with the frantic beating of his heart. Gabe and Liddy stood in the open doorway with expressions of shock and confusion on their faces.

  “You’ve arrived. Come in.”

  Austin straightened his back, attempting a dignity he did not feel. He lowered Lady Fledgemont to the bed, then pulled the covers over her trembling body. Her eyes were wide with fear…and anger.

  “Everything will be fine,” he said to reassure her. But the look on her face said she didn’t believe him.

  She clenched her fist around the covers on her bed and glared at him. “What have you done?” she demanded, with more anger than he’d ever heard her use.

  …

  A jolt of alarm cast out the tender emotion of a moment earlier. She would have grabbed Jonathan from Mrs. Pollock’s arms and run from the room if she had the strength. But she wasn’t even able to stand on her feet without crumbling to the floor.

  Instead, she leveled Austin with the most hostile glare she could and prepared for the battle of her life. “Mrs. Pollock.” She motioned to the side of the room where the innkeeper’s wife stood with Jonathan. “Please bring Jonathan to me.”

  Mrs. Pollock rushed over and placed the babe in her arm. Sarah nestled Jonathan close, the sweet infant remaining content with his rag toy and oblivious to the tension that filled the room.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Pollock,” Captain Landwell said. There was a polite tone to his voice, a pleasant expression on his face, but behind it lurked the torrid shadow of emotion. “Would you please send up some tea for the ladies and a bottle of your finest whiskey for my friend?”

  “Right away, sir.” Mrs. Pollock rushed to the door, but stopped before she passed Captain Landwell’s relatives. “I’m so glad you’ve come to help,” she said. “The poor man’s run himself ragged caring for both the lady and the babe.”

  Sarah felt the first pang of remorse. How could she have forgotten how much work it was to care for someone ailing? She’d spent her whole life caring for others. She, more than anyone, knew the toll it took on the mind and body.