Bittersweet Obsession

by Rachel Blake

  He moved next to her. “Why are your fingers trembling?” he asked. “Are you not well?” It always lingered in the back of his mind, the dreadful possibility that she could become more like Zander, a living, breathing, vapid, useless creature. Looking at her now, insanely beautiful and her every movement transfixing him, it was hard for him to fathom.

  Jane dropped her hand. “I’m fine. It’s just the music—” Her gaze lifted to his face and he wanted badly to kiss away the sulk from her lips. “How can I remember how to play the pianoforte but not remember my home or my family?” Her voice broke on the last few words and without warning she broke into sobs and pressed her face against his chest.

  Angel wrapped his arms around her knowing full well there would be no turning back after this. He would hold her sweet luscious body against him for as long as she needed and all the while she would be stealing fragments of his heart and soul. And, eventually, she would own him wholly, this girl, this unearthly creature, and he would have to deal with horrors and heartbreak as each shattering event occurred. But for now, he would lose himself in the intense pleasure of holding her in his arms.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jane peered out the window to the grounds below. The blue skies of the previous day had been replaced by thick, ominous clouds. Angel rode a large black horse around the yard. The animal snorted, reared, and tossed its head, fighting him at every turn, but he handled the horse masterfully. Once again he’d stripped off his topcoat and rode only in his white shirt, buckskin breeches, and boots. The man had a dangerously sensual presence even out in the vast yard and she could not take her eyes from him. She had no idea what had come over her when she broke down in the drawing room, but the music that flowed from her fingers had been hauntingly familiar and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t drudge up more than her musical abilities. It had no doubt been the look of compassion in Angel’s eyes that had tipped her emotions further. He’d held her with such a raw tenderness she could still imagine his arms around her. It had been difficult leaving the security of his embrace.

  A knock at the door took Jane’s attention from the view below.

  “There’s still plenty of food in the breakfast room,” Ellie said through the door.

  “I shall be there directly,” Jane answered.

  Ellie took her answer as an invitation to open her door and poke her head inside. “Dr. Van Ostrand has come down for breakfast, although he’ll probably not stay long.” She stepped inside and wrung her hands in her apron. “He is still not himself, I’m afraid.”

  Jane smoothed the fabric of the pale green dress she wore. “I suppose I have the doctor to thank for this new dress.”

  Ellie’s milky eyes widened. “The doctor only just left his bed this morning. I helped him down to the breakfast room myself. Master Angel must have had Lettie bring the dress into your room.”

  Dr. Van Ostrand produced a feeble smile as Jane entered the breakfast room. “How are you feeling, my dear? I’m sorry I’ve not been much company these past few days, but I find that I’m not myself.”

  “I am truly sorry that you are not well.”

  His skin had a sallow cast to it and his eyes were swollen and red.

  “Perhaps you’ve been in bed too long. Some fresh air might do you good. Although, I fear yesterday may have been the first and last pleasant day of the season.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid a dark room is the best cure for one these episodes. Even this candlelight causes my head to throb. But I am nearly well, and I expect that I shall be up and about in a few days.” He broke off a piece of bread and his moustache moved up and down with each chew. Even swallowing seemed to be a chore for the poor man.

  “Where is Zander this morning?” Jane asked.

  Suddenly the clamor of piano keys vibrated the walls causing the doctor instant pain. He winced as the noise grew louder.

  “Never mind. I believe I can guess where he is,” Jane said. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I played music for him yesterday, and I’m afraid I might have awakened a new game for him.”

  Dr. Van Ostrand pushed his fingers against his temple and squinted across the table at her. The man looked truly miserable. “So I was not imagining the lovely music I heard yesterday. Then you remember how to play?” As usual there was a tiny gleam of concern in his eyes as if the return of her memory bothered him. She wondered if he worried that she would recall the events leading to her attempted murder. That frightened her as well. As much as she wanted to know how she came to be left for dead, she equally feared the truth.

  “Evidently I am quite the musician. I don’t remember when and where I learned it, but my fingers led the way.” Discordant music filled the house as Zander continued to plunk down hard on the keys.

  “Ellie!” Dr. Van Ostrand shouted suddenly and even the sound of his own voice seemed to cause him discomfort.

  Ellie rushed into the room, but she knew instinctively what the doctor had summoned her for. “I’ll ask him to help me with the dishes. He enjoys playing with the water in the basin.” She turned to leave but the doctor addressed her again.

  “Where’s Angel this morning?” he asked.

  “The stable boy is sick. Master Angel is out exercising the horses.” With that she dashed down the hall to the drawing room.

  Dr. Van Ostrand pushed to standing but braced himself on the back of the chair for a moment. Jane jumped up to help him. She walked over and placed her hand under his elbow. “Perhaps your son should summon a physician,” she suggested as she led him out of the breakfast room to the stairs.

  He smiled weakly. “You know how useless we physicians can be. This is not the first such episode nor will it be the last.”

  She assisted him on his long, arduous journey up the staircase and then stopped in her room for her cloak. Looming storm clouds or not, the outdoors and fresh air summoned her.

  The black horse had finally settled into a calm, collected canter as Jane stepped out onto the veranda overlooking the grounds. Down below, a lone bird chirruped as it attempted to drink water from the massive stone fountain, otherwise only the labored breaths of the horse could be heard. Its hooves had pounded a path through snow leaving behind a perfect circle of wet, brown earth. Angel slowed the animal to a walk and it snorted a sigh of relief.

  Jane walked closer but she was certain the rider had already seen her as she stood on the veranda. Just as his presence always caught her attention immediately, his gaze always seemed to find her too.

  “That was not easy,” Jane called to him. “I watched you earlier from the window.”

  He stopped in front of her. Steam rose off both the horse and the man. “He hadn’t been out for several days.” Angel reached down and patted the horse’s neck. He glanced at the darkening sky. “Winter is always hard on the animals. No fresh grass, no chance to kick up their hooves and run. Hard for people too.” This morning warm brown eyes smiled down at her but she knew that could change at any moment. The man seemed to be in constant turmoil with his emotions. He seemed pleased to see her one moment and ready to banish her from his presence the next.

  Jane looked down at the hem of her dress which was gradually soaking up the cold moisture. “Thank you for the dress.” She looked up at him.

  He nodded. “I’ve got to put this beast back inside.”

  “May I help?” she asked abruptly.

  “If you would like.” He hopped down from the saddle and led the horse around toward the stables. Jane followed.

  Jane ran a brush over the horse’s coat while Angel put away the saddle. “Your father doesn’t look well,” she said.

  “My father is having a battle with his own demons,” he said. “These headaches have been bothering him for years. I believe he brings them on himself.” He lifted the horse’s hind leg to check the hoof then lowered it to the ground. “We all have demons to contend with, I suppose.” His mood seemed to darken again, and Jane regretted bringing up the subject of his
father. The topic always seemed to stoke a fire inside the man.

  “This horse’s winter coat is so thick, the brush is almost useless.” She concentrated her efforts on the matted hair where the saddle had been. Standing so close, breathing in the familiar odor of horse sweat, and stroking the animal’s thick coat triggered a memory and the brush fell from her hand. She stepped back.

  Angel came around to the side she stood on. “What is it?” He looked down at her feet. “Did he step on you?”

  She shook her head. “I remember— I remember how I got the scar. I cannot see who held the whip that struck me, but they’d been beating a horse mercilessly and I’d grabbed hold of their arm to stop them.” Jane swayed on her feet and Angel took hold of her arm.

  “Sit down here on the bench.”

  Jane sat down hard then looked up at him. “Why can’t I remember the person on the other end of the beating?”

  He sat down next to her and took hold of her hand. His touch was instantly comforting. “Perhaps your mind is blocking out the face because the memory is too painful.”

  She nodded weakly. “I’m sure you’re right. Perhaps it is a good thing that I cannot match a face to the dreadful incident.” She stared down at their intertwined hands.

  He moved his large rough fingers so that they laced with her small, white ones. Then he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. His mouth on her skin sent a shiver of pleasure through her.

  “I heard the piano earlier,” he said as he released her hand. She felt a moment of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

  “Yes, I believe Zander has decided to take up the pianoforte.”

  “Thank God,” he said, “for a moment I’d thought—” Then he stopped but seemed to have no desire to finish. One thing was certain, he was inordinately relieved that it had not been her on the pianoforte.

  “So you have not followed your father’s interest in science?” she asked, finding that more and more she wanted to know Angel Van Ostrand.

  “I went to Cambridge for several years, however science did not hold much interest for me. Or perhaps I just wanted to thwart my father’s ambitions of having me follow him into the field. Law was more to my liking.” His words were temporarily diverted by a distant memory and he paused. “Then the lure of war pulled some of us from the comfort of our university chambers,” he continued. “My best friend, Edward, was determined to help put an end to Napoleon and his forces. So I followed. Sometimes I think my motives for enlisting were more to keep a protective eye on Edward than actually taking on the French.” Angel stared down at his hands, his long black lashes covered the emotion in his eyes. “A lot of good it did. I lost him anyway.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jane said. The distant rumble of thunder rattled the walls, and the horse lifted its head at the noise.

  “I’d better finish up here. It sounds like quite a storm coming this way,” Angel said. “You should head back inside.”

  Jane drew her cloak up around her face and pulled up her hood. She stepped outside. Her toes were instantly numbed by the frozen ground. In the distance, billows of coal-colored clouds drooped heavy with snow and rain. She stopped to marvel at the occasional streak of light that sliced through the sky. The sound of thunder was still a good distance away. Without warning, a sliver of a vision creased her mind, a little girl hiding in the dark corner of the nursery as lightning flashed through the room and thunder shook the walls. She was the little girl, and she remembered a nursery rather austere and dismal and with little light from the outside world. It seemed impossible but the room was as much a refuge as a dungeon. The visions were coming with more clarity and frequency and Jane wondered if that would be a good thing or if there had been so much pain in her past, she’d pushed it from her mind purposefully.

  A frigid wind snapped around the yard, and Jane continued on toward the house. As she neared the rear steps, she heard the stable door slide shut and looked back to see if Angel followed close behind. Just then her foot slipped off the path and it sank down into a hole of snow and slush. The suction was too great and she couldn’t pull her foot up. She laughed and waved back at Angel. “I seemed to have trapped myself in a pile of snow,” she called.

  He jogged to catch up to her and then looked down at the hole. “I can promise to retrieve the foot but the shoe is another matter altogether.” He leaned down and she braced her hands on his strong back as his large hands circled her calf. His grip tightened and he pulled the foot free just as the door flew open with such force it nearly broke free from its hinges.

  Zander lumbered down the steps, and a horrible almost inhuman roar filled the air. Jane gasped as he ran toward them with a murderous glare in his normally blank face. Angel straightened just as Zander plowed into him. Angel flew against the massive stone fountain and Jane could hear the sickening sound of bones cracking. Angel crumpled to the ground, but Zander was not through. Nearly ripping open her stitches, Jane jumped on the giant’s back to stop him, but he shrugged her off the way a horse might shrug off a fly. She fell back hard on her bottom, the cold of the frozen ground immediately penetrating the thin material of her dress. Horrified and helpless, she watched as Angel pushed to his feet in pain and then straightened in time to receive another blow to his rib cage. Zander’s arm was like an iron hammer as he swung it at Angel. Angel dropped to his knees and grabbed frantically for a large tree branch lying beneath the fountain. He picked it up as a weapon.

  Jane pushed to her feet and shouted, “Zander, you stop this at once or I will never play music for you again.”

  The enraged beast froze. Then he turned on his heels and looked at Jane with all the guilt of a little boy who’d just stolen from the cookie jar.

  She pointed to the house. “Now go to your room.”

  His chin dropped to his chest and he trudged silently back to the house. As soon as Zander was out of sight Jane raced over to Angel. His pallor matched the snow and he dropped the branch and pressed his arm against his stomach. “Apparently those ribs were not completely healed yet,” he said between labored gasps of breath. “They snapped like twigs.”

  She dragged his arm around her shoulder and helped him to the house.

  “I think I owe you my life,” he said hoarsely.

  “Now we’re even since you and your father saved mine.”

  He chuckled but then bent over in agony from it. “If you say so.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Unbearable pain followed every breath. Angel had had broken ribs before, and he knew that for the next week every movement would take great effort. His ribs had been badly bruised in the match with Lawford, but the force of the impact when he hit the stone fountain had finished the job.

  Jane had gone to the kitchen to ask Ellie for some strips of linen to tie around his ribs and restrict the bones from shifting, and Angel had hoisted himself up the stairs to his father’s room. The old man was about to share his laudanum— whether he agreed to it or not.

  Father lifted his head and squinted into the dark room. “Angel, is that you? Can you fetch me some water. This damn medicine has left my throat dry as parchment.”

  Angel walked to the bed table and reached for the laudanum. He dropped the bitter liquid directly onto his tongue and swallowed.

  “Good God, what are you doing, Angel?”

  “For the pain.”

  “Did you fight again?”

  Angel walked to the dresser and poured his father a glass of water. It took extraordinary work for even that simple task. He returned to the bedside and handed over the glass of water. “Your experiment, your mindless giant has decided that Jane belongs to him.” He very narrowly referred to her as his second experiment but he couldn’t bring himself to even think of her that way. As far as he was concerned, she’d never been a part of his father’s macabre practices. “He is particularly upset when I go near her. I was freeing her foot from a snow drift, and he barreled out of the house and threw me into the stone fountain. I’
ve won numerous boxing matches against men twice my weight and size yet I am no match for your creature.”

  Father’s chest rose and fell with each hard earned breath.

  “The laudanum is hampering your breathing. You should leave off of it for awhile or you won’t need to suffer from headaches or anything else for that matter. Besides, you might want to save what’s left in that bottle. You may need it one day to subdue that monster you’ve brought back to life because something tells me, in the end, it is going to be him or me.”

  ***

  A light knock on his door was followed by Jane’s tender voice. “I have some linen strips to wrap your rib cage.”

  “Come in, Jane.” He rested his head back against the pillows he’d propped up on his bed. The laudanum had already dissolved some of the pain or his mind was now foggy enough to believe that it had worked.

  Jane walked in like a tempting elixir for the senses, and for the moment, the opium had made his senses raw with energy. But with Jane in his presence, he hardly needed an apothecary’s compound. Her sensual curves swayed with the motion of the dress as she carried a tray with tea and linen strips. She lowered the tray to his bedside table and his gaze was instantly drawn to her breasts, their smooth, round tops rose and fell seductively with each breath. How badly he wanted to draw down the décolletage of her dress to rub his thumb over the rose colored nipples beneath. His lids were heavy as he watched her every movement. She held up a cup of tea and smiled innocently at him, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

  He waved away the tea. “Swallowing is a chore,” he said.

  “You poor thing. I feel so badly about this.”

  “It’s not your fault. You cannot be held responsible for Zander’s actions.” He could hear that his words had been slowed by the laudanum. “I can’t really blame Zander either.” His gaze brazenly took in every inch of her.

  She ignored the lascivious way he looked at her but a pale pink blush colored her cheeks. Her fingers busily pulled the linen strips apart and she laid them across the tray. “I have some pins to hold these in place.” She looked at him. “I’m afraid you’ll have to remove your shirt.”