Beyond Love

by Glenda Diana

  He looked up when Milly bent over and wiped Thorton's face with a cloth. She patted his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. She looked as worn out as the rest of them.

  “I understand congratulations are due,” he said softly.

  Her face turned a light pink. “I only hope that when my time comes I don't have an audience.”

  “Trying to break a family tradition?” Lucas asked as he stepped up beside her. “When your time comes, I'm going to invite all of England.”

  “You're a dreadful tease.”

  “I'm not teasing. I'll have it posted that any who want to attend may do so.”

  “I won't let him,” came Thorton's raspy reply.

  Milly laughed. “You forget, Lucas, I have a protector.”

  “How could I forget?” Lucas gave a mock groan. “I have six months of memories stored up. I'll most likely have nightmares about it for years to come.”

  Saul escorted a weary Dr. Halworth into the room. Halworth looked over everything that had been readied and nodded in approval. He issued a command that everyone leave. “You, too,” Halworth grumbled when Blake didn't move.

  “I don't think so.”

  Thorton's eyes opened. She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips. “I'll be fine. You need to eat, get some rest.”

  “I can't leave you.”

  His anguished plea tore at her heart. Of all the times she had wanted him to show her compassion it had to be now, when she had to be strong. “Please, Blake.”

  “What if you need me?”

  “I'll always need you. I can't stand for you to see me like this. Please wait in the hall.”

  Blake gave her a lingering kiss, then slowly stood, stretching. He turned to face the doctor. The elderly man blanched white and stumbled back a few paces. At any other time Blake would have found the doctor's behavior annoying, but his fear for Thorton was too great.

  “Here,” Lucas said, holding out a plate of food when Blake entered the hallway and the door closed behind him.

  “No,” Blake absently mumbled, his eyes fastened on the door.

  “You're going to need your strength.” Lucas shoved the plate at him.

  Blake stared at the younger man. The order had sounded as gruff as Griggs'. “Thank you,” he said, hiding his smile.

  Lucas shrugged, then sank to the floor across from Blake and leaned his head against the wall.

  Blake picked at the food as he listened for sounds from Thorton's room. He should be in there, he thought for what seemed the hundredth time. She needed him there, to rub her back, to wipe the sweat from her brow. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Looking up, he found Lucas staring at him.

  “What's your next move, Baron?”

  The hallway turned deathly silent as the many occupants waited for Blake's reply. “It's not easy to admit I was wrong. I have so much to tell Thorton ... so much to make up for.”

  “Do you think that will make things better?”

  “No,” Blake answered without hesitation.

  “You put her through hell!” Lucas took a deep breath, obviously attempting to calm himself.

  “Would it make you feel any better to know I, too, was living in hell?”

  “A hell of your choosing! All she wanted to do was love you. Since she was five, all she talked about was you. What her life would be like, how many children she would have, how happy the two of you would be. For years I had to listen to her ravings, hoping her dream would come true, yet fearing the rift between our families would destroy her.”

  “She was a Lynwood.”

  Lucas’ eyes swung to Roger. “Damn right!”

  When Roger started to speak, Blake held up his hand. “I cannot change the past, though I wish I could. If I could go back, I would make everything, all her wishes, come true.”

  “How gallant,” Lucas sneered. “But a little late.”

  Lance laughed. “Blake, tell him what you told me. All those sweet words about crawling on your knees to beg Thorton's forgiveness. Don't hold back. Tell him how terrified you were when you found out about her investigation.”

  “Shut-up, Wellsbrough!”

  “He can't do that,” Alan piped in. “It warmed our hearts to see the fierce warrior acting like a beas-caged animal.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Lance whispered. “You'll have the Baroness getting out of bed to shoot your worthless carcass.”

  “Good God, can't have that. I will not forget any warning the Baroness issues in the future. She didn't think twice about killing Waldom over his slip.”

  “Shut-up, Garrick,” Blake sighed.

  “She shot Waldom in protection of Blake,” Lance stated, squatting beside Lucas. “She was something, wasn't she?”

  “Something like crazy, mad, insane...” Lucas muttered.

  Lance smiled. “More like a tigress protecting her mate.”

  “A woman who is still very much in love,” Roger murmured. “A woman bent on protecting what she considered hers.”

  Blake's jaw clenched tight. His heated gaze bore into Lucas for several seconds. “She never gave up on me.”

  “I tried to get her to,” Lucas said. “She was determined to find out who had sent that note to you. I couldn't get her to sleep, eat. All she did was search through stacks of paper. If I had known what she had planned, I would've never brought her to Town.”

  “I gave up,” Blake admitted.

  “You never tried! Never gave her a chance! I was tempted to thrash you for making her face a reality that damn near destroyed her! But she wouldn't let me. Then I got to thinking it was your loss. With her beauty, her tenderness, it wouldn't be hard for her to find a man who could love her and treat her with the respect she deserves.”

  “You've got that right,” Alan stated, then took a step back when Blake started to come out of his chair.

  Lance climbed to his feet. “He was just agreeing with Lucas. No need to rip him apart. If you didn't agree also, then you wouldn't feel the need to do Alan harm.”

  “She's mine,” Blake ground out between clenched teeth, expecting one of them to disagree.

  Lucas studied his brother-in-law. “Why is she yours? She's your enemy ... a Lynwood.”

  “She is a Bradley,” Blake said. He sat down and ran fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “Why, Baron?” Lucas demanded.

  “I love her.”

  “Took you long enough to admit it.”

  “Never has anyone looked at me as she does,” Blake stated. “Maybe that's why I could not accept her words. I wanted her to be just the way I had imagined. Lynwood's daughter, my enemy. Every time she did something that did not fit my mental picture of her I was at a loss as to what to do, how to react. To my knowledge, one's enemy does not defend the other.”

  His gaze moved to the closed door. Thorton was giving him the greatest gift a woman could give a man. She was going through agonizing pain for him, for them.

  Lucas’ burst of laughter made Blake jump in surprise.

  “Enemy? You sill haven't figured it out. Lynwood was not the enemy. He loved your mother. That's why he wanted you betrothed to his daughter. It was out of love, not hate.” Lucas shook his head as if saying he thought Blake dense. “Thorton can still describe the clothing you wore at the signing of the contract. She was proud to be known as the future wife of the Beast. She still is proud.”

  Blake remembered the sketches she had. “Who drew those pictures of me?”

  Lucas stood and looked down at Blake, giving him a slight grin. “Use your brain and figure out the rest. You had better decide if you want her back.”

  “Haven't I already told you I love her?”

  Lucas’ laughter filled the hallway. “All you have to do is convince her to come back. It won't be easy. You broke her heart. I suggest you pad your knees, Baron. She's been known to be stubborn.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  After Blake's six-month-long drinking spree of self-destruction, w
ho would of thought his sire would offer him a drink? It was no wonder, though. It had been a long night and morning.

  Roger watched Blake drain the glass as if drinking water. He shook his head over his son's pitiful state before his eyes scanned the hallway's other occupants.

  Griggs was pacing, stopping every time he came to Thorton's door. His salt-and-pepper hair was standing up in all directions from hours of almost savagely running his fingers through it. Even his bushy eyebrows were ruffled from where he tugged at them in frustration. His usually impeccable clothing was wrinkled and askew. Roger found him to look quite comical.

  Lucas was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Roger had wanted to reject the idea that Robert Lynwood's deeds had been done out of love for Ann. But the more he thought of it, the more sense it made. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to admit. And the vile taste that filled his mouth was not from Lynwood's actions, but from his own. He had let hate rule him for all those years ... years wasted.

  Lynwood could have made their lives hell by simply taking Stonecrest, which was rightfully his after Roger had lost it. Instead Lynwood had demanded a betrothal between his daughter and Ann's son. All for the sake of love.

  A loud snore brought Roger's attention back to the present. Alan Garrick was laid out on the floor asleep; his snores were, at times, explosive. Lance had stared for hours at a spot he must have found interesting. Roger had known that man for years and it was well-known Lance hardly smiled. Now that Roger had time to reflect, he realized every time the young viscount had been in Thorton's presence he had done nothing but smile.

  For years Blake had gone without friendship, living in seclusion, until Thorton's arrival. It did Roger's heart good to see not everyone had deserted his son.

  The sound of a slap and the accompanying cry was the first announcement. Griggs stopped pacing, Lucas jumped to his feet, while Lance nudged Alan awake. With misty eyes and a light heart, Roger watched his son.

  Blake stood and glanced at the others, tempted to ask if the cry was real or if he had dreamed it. He tried to rule his actions, but failed; the chamber door bounced open in his haste to enter the bedroom. When he came to an abrupt halt, the others collided into his back.

  Thorton lay with a squirming bundle on her stomach. Milly was tucking a blanket around Thorton and smiling.

  Dr. Halworth, however, frowned. “Wait until I'm done. I still have the baby to wash.”

  Griggs pushed his way into the room. He smiled at Thorton and carefully lifted the baby. “See to the Baroness, sir,” he told the physician. “And I will see to the babe.”

  “Just one minute,” Halworth stammered. “You can't interfere-”

  Roger laughed, giving the doctor a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Might as well do as he says. He won't let anyone near the child till he's satisfied it's clean and healthy.”

  Blake stumbled forward, his eyes running greedily over his wife. Sweat soaked her dark red hair. Her face was red from the strains of hard labor, her gold eyes were swollen from crying, and her lush lips had small cuts from where she had bitten them. If he lived to be a hundred, this memory would stay with him. Never had she looked more beautiful. He brushed his mouth over hers, hoping her lips were not too tender.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I feel terrible,” she whispered with a smile.

  “You look exquisite.”

  “Pooh! I know better.”

  Blake cupped her face, giving her a long, loving kiss.

  “'Tis a fine strapping boy, Milord,” Griggs called. The others had gathered to watch him bathe the baby and get their first look at the newest Bradley.

  Thorton had so much she wanted to say to Blake, but she couldn't, not with everyone in the room, and not in her present state of exhaustion. Instead, she let her eyes drift shut and listened to their talk. Roger stated the boy looked too red and repeatedly asked the doctor if that was normal.

  “All you need is a dozen more like him, Blake,” Lance said. “And at least a half-dozen girls.”

  “One at a time is all I can handle,” came Griggs’ reply.

  Thorton smiled. All he could handle? She would like to see him go through all she had and then see what he thought. There was one voice she hadn't heard, however-Blake's. Was he disappointed? She found him still at her side. He was watching the others, but made no move to join them. Did he not even want to see his son?

  Griggs finished washing and dressing the baby, then bundled him in a blanket. Cuddling the baby close, he made his way through the onlookers. He stood in front of Blake, and with a gentle maneuver, held out the child.

  Blake almost moved away. He had never before held a baby. He raised his hands, then stopped. He felt frustrated, huge and clumsy; his hands were too large to hold something that small and tiny. What if he accidentally hurt the baby?

  “Hold out your arm, sir,” Griggs said. “That's right, now bend it. Excellent. Bring your arm in. Don't tighten your hold too much. That's it. You're a natural. He likes your touch.”

  Blake wasn't sure exactly what to do. One tiny hand waved about, then went directly to the rosebud mouth. A smile stretched across Blake's face as he listened to the baby suckle. The child grew upset when his small fist offered nothing in return for his efforts. Blake looked up at Thorton and his smile widened.

  The uncertainties she had felt drained away.

  Blake's smile was still in place as he turned to his father. “Have you ever seen such a tiny thing? Or one so handsome?”

  “Once,” Roger whispered. “And he grew into fine man, making his sire proud. But then ... I have always been proud of you. Always.”

  The sound of Blake's laughter made the baby stiffen. His tiny face puckered as he batted his blue-gray eyes. His chin began to tremble. His wail was loud and lusty.

  Lance lifted Thorton's hand. “Madame, it has been a most ... interesting night. I'm glad I got to be a part of it.” He kissed the back of her hand, his brown eyes twinkling. “If you ever find you need assistance, I would be honored if you called on me.”

  “She doesn't need your assistance,” Blake grumbled as he tried to soothe his son's wails. Finally, the baby quieted down.

  Lucas laughed at Blake's jealousy. “London can be a lonely place for some. Just look at the trouble Thorton found. Who knows? She may need some guidance.”

  “She'll not being getting it from Wellsbrough,” Blake said. “I cannot believe you, her brother, would want the assistance of a well-known rake.”

  “Pay no attention to him, Milord,” Milly said, poking Lucas in the side with her elbow. “Luc, your sister needs some rest.”

  “But this is just getting good,” Lucas complained.

  “I agree,” Alan stated, with a grin.

  “Now, see here,” Roger sputtered. “The chit needs rest. My grandson needs her to be in tip-top condition.”

  “You all should leave,” Dr. Halworth announced.

  “I'm going to America.”

  Well, Thorton thought, that certainly got everyone's attention. The room went deathly quiet. She prayed it stayed that way. It was getting harder to hold open her eyelids. If she wasn't so tired she'd take her son and leave them all to bicker until Judgment Day. A solid week of sleep was what her body craved, but she knew it was impossible.

  “The hell, you say?” Lucas sputtered. “Why in the devil would you want to go there?”

  “I recommend France,” Lance commented. “I know of this beautiful little chateau. It offers solitude, peace, and a most charming owner who would cater to your every whim.”

  “America, offers new beginnings,” Thorton murmured.

  “You can't go alone,” Milly said.

  Lucas spun around to face his wife. “I might have let you talk me into coming to London with her, but I won't go to America.”

  Saul entered carrying a stack of small blankets Thorton and Milly had made for the baby.

&nbs
p; “I'm taking Saul to America with me,” Thorton announced. It was humorous to see the changes that swept across Saul's handsome face. He stumbled to a stop, his eyes widening, and the smile he gave was nothing short of beautiful. He tossed his burden in the chair, gave his jacket a smart tug, and straightened to his full height.

  Blake stood, blocking Thorton's view of the butler. “Everyone, get out!”

  Thorton made a pretense of straightening her coverlet as the others left the room without argument. She glanced up in time to see Griggs pulling the door closed. She smiled when he gave her a wink, which she took as encouragement.

  “Never do that again!” Blake stated, breaking the silence. His large hand gently patted his son's sleeping form.

  Thorton lifted her chin. “Do what?”

  “Pit a boy against a beast.”

  That got the reaction he was hoping for. Her eyes blazed to life. She started searching the table beside the bed, the floor, the blankets.

  He laughed. “You can't shoot me, Thor.”

  “If I wasn't so bloody tired I'd have Mr. Garrick get his gun. Don't presume you know what I will and will not do. After what I've been through this past year, even I'm uncertain.”

  Blake watched as she turned her head away. Had he learned nothing during their separation? After her long hours of labor, she didn't need him bullying her. What she needed was his understanding, to show that he cared, that he loved her.

  “I'm sorry, Thor.”

  The anguish in his voice brought her eyes to his. Her eyes ran over the baby nestled against his chest, the tiny face tucked beneath his chin. It was if the baby knew his sire held him. “Let me see him,” she whispered.

  Blake sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the baby.

  “Oh, look at him, Blake. He's perfect,” she said in awe, then laid him in the curve of her arm at her side. Her fingers traced the tiny features. “He's beautiful. Just like you.”

  “You don't know how much I missed hearing you say those words to me.” When she started to respond, he placed a finger to her lips. “Deep within me, I feel like I have an explosive, unpredictable, volcano ready to erupt. I've never known this feeling pounding through my veins, through my soul. I'm not ashamed to admit it's thrilling, yet it frightens me.” His cheeks grew warm with his confession.