Glorious Victorious Darcys 01.5 - His Broken Angel

by Beth Ciotta

  “Have you met her before?” P.J. asked as she descended to a lower deck.

  “Lily? No, but Tuck talks about her sometimes. I know she’s young, I know she’s shy, and I know he did his best to ensure she was raised in tender surroundings.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps Lily Gentry would have benefitted from less mollycoddling.”

  “You don’t like her.”

  “I don’t have time for her.” P.J. paused outside a door. “We’re sitting ducks in this skytown, Doc. We being your brother and me and a crew of three others. Whether you believe in our cause or not—”

  “I believe in the cause, Miss Darcy. What I can’t support is senseless violence.”

  A huge grin split her freckled face. “We should be in accord then. Be assured all of our actions are considered most intensively.”

  She opened the splintered door of a cabin, freeing a wave of trapped heat that fogged their goggles.

  P.J. pushed her protective eye gear to her forehead.

  Doc cleared his shaded lenses with a swipe of his sleeve.

  He spied a crude coal-burning steam generator—the source of the stifling heat—then beyond that, primitive furnishings including a bed piled high with blankets. The body beneath the blankets shifted and a face, eyes squeezed closed, lifted from the pillow.

  Doc got his first gander at Lily Gentry.

  His brain froze as though zapped by a stun gun.

  High cheekbones, pert nose, thick lashes, full lips. Her long, straight hair reminded him of corn silk. A lighter shade of gold and feather fine. How could someone so lovely look so tragic?

  His heart jerked. An angel on earth.

  “Leave us,” he said to P.J.

  “But—”

  He gently nudged the aviatrix aside, moved into the oppressive room, and shut the door with a groaning thud.

  “Who is it?” came a panicked voice.

  Forcing his senses sober, Doc focused on the injured woman. He was a professional, for God’s sake. “Name’s Doc Blue, Miss Gentry. I’m a friend of your brother’s.”

  Or at least I used to be.

  “Tuck?” She bolted upright then fell back against her pillows with a pained groaned.

  “I’m alone,” Doc said, moving bedside. “Tuck’s unaware of your circumstance.”

  “Thank God.” Eyes still squeezed shut, chest heaving, she palmed her bandaged forehead. “I … I don’t want him to see me like this.”

  “He won’t.” Every fiber of Doc’s body ached to take this frightened woman into his arms. To comfort. To cherish.

  Smitten at first sight.

  The affliction rocked his already shaky world. Being physically and emotionally attracted to Lily Gentry was all kinds of wrong.

  Battling a barrage of emotions, Doc eyed his fragile patient. Trembling hands. Pale complexion. Dark circles beneath her eyes. “Jasper sent for me because I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve when it comes to doctoring. I’ll have you up and around in no time.”

  “Up and around and walking into walls?” Tears beaded at the corners of her closed lids. “Go away.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “Don’t want your help.”

  “Don’t rightly care.” Doc had treated some cantankerous souls in his time, but none had rattled his composure like this wisp of a girl. Did she truly expect him to abandon her in a skytown? Among outlaws? Did she honestly believe he’d allow her to suffer prolonged misery when he could hasten her recovery? “I’m beholden to your brother for years of kindness, Miss Gentry. He’d want me to tend to your good health, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “You can’t right my world.”

  “I can try.” Doc set aside his medical bag, swept off his derby, and studied Lily’s ashen face as he unbuttoned his wool duster.

  She opened her eyes and his breath stalled.

  Blue as a cloudless sky.

  She looked in his direction. “How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

  Her haunted gaze wreaked havoc on his soul. He dug deep and rose above. “Tuck owned a ranch in Wyoming,” he said while shrugging out of his coat. “Prized possession? Peg.”

  “The flying horse,” she said, sounding miserable.

  “That’s right.” He dipped into his bag for a stethoscope and an ophthalmoscope and, starting with her heart and eyes, commenced with a preliminary checkup. “Your parents,” he went on in hopes of distracting her. “They were taken wrongly from this world and Tuck vowed to watch over you. At the same time, as a U.S. Air Marshal, he didn’t want you exposed to his dangerous lifestyle. So he made sure you were sequestered with relatives, most recently your cousinsin New York City. You’re an artist.”

  “Was an artist,” Lily snapped, turning away. “I’m blind now. Didn’t Jasper tell you? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Her bitter pigheadedness concerned and irritated Doc at the same time. Like P.J., he had no time for resistance. Ruled by compassion, he ached to ease her pain posthaste. Prodded by guilt, the sooner he delivered Lily safe and well to Tuck, the sooner his friend’s peace of mind—the sooner Doc’s shot at redemption.

  “I’m a might sketchy on the details, Miss Gentry. Why don’t you bring me up to speed? Let’s start with your injuries.”

  She fretted the edges of the blankets. Her breath quickened at an uneven rate. “Patch, another physician, already tended to my wounds. As for my blindness …”

  Doc sensed her agitation and a simmering panic. His mother had been prone to anxiety attacks so he knew the signs well. Desperate to move forward, not back, Doc set aside his ophthalmoscope and palmed Lily’s bandaged forehead, a gentle gesture infused with calm … and supernatural tonic. “Let’s take this slow.” When she nodded, he continued. “You know anything about me, from Jasper or your brother?”

  “Tuck mentioned you in some of his letters. Said you’re a gifted healer.”

  “And Jasper?”

  “Just that he’d sent for someone who could help me.”

  Whereas Jasper had rebelled after their parents’ deaths, Doc had retreated from the threat of further chaos. He was a healer, not a fighter. He’d studied books on anatomy and physiology, trained with an Oriental physician. Accelerated healing came naturally, but he’d been adamant about learning the hows and whys of traditional and alternative medicine. According to law, as a Freak, Doc was barred from practicing professionally, so he’d spent the last few years pretending he was a Vic. Plenty of Freaks lived a lie in order to lead a normal life. Tuck had promised to keep Doc’s secret. Seemed the marshal had been true to his word even where his sister was concerned. Which made Doc’s betrayal all the more wretched.

  “I need you to trust me, Lily.” The plea almost stuck in his throat. If she knew how he’d endangered her brother’s life …

  She surprised him by shoving aside layers of blankets. “One busted leg, one bruised. Fractured ribs, the gash on my forehead. Go on then,” she taunted halfheartedly. “Work your magic.”

  He’d already infused her injured head with a good dose of HE, Healing Energy. Ignoring her petulance, Doc rolled up his sleeves and considered her mind-set. He thought about his blindfolded ride from hell. The short while he’d been in the dark had been unsettling. Lily Gentry had been blind for three days. He imagined a lifetime of darkness and felt a whisper of the panic no doubt raging through this young woman—an artist—someone whose passion was deeply influenced and inspired by images. If she couldn’t see …

  Focus on your strengths, then address the blindness.

  Summoning patience, Doc examined Lily’s petite and battered body. Even though she was dressed in a cap-sleeved chemise and baggy bloomers rolled up to her thighs, he was very much aware of her feminine curves. Curves that appealed to Doc in a wholly unprofessional way. The inappropriate appreciation ebbed as he noted Patch’s handiwork—brass splint, clean bandages. “I know you hurt, but Patch did a fine job.”

  “So there’s nothing you can do,�
� she rasped. “Sorry Jasper wasted your time.”

  “I can do plenty,” Doc said, laying hands on her injured legs.

  “You can’t cure my blindness.”

  “Maybe I can’t. Maybe I can.” HE flowed from his being into Lily. Doc knew without a doubt she’d be up and walking by tomorrow. His prognosis regarding her blindness was less confident, but he aimed on giving the miraculous cure his all. Although his efforts wouldn’t mean spit if she wallowed in despondency.

  “You know what makes Peg able to fly?” he asked.

  “Tuck built him special wings.”

  “That’s just part of it, the mechanics.” Doc bolstered his spine as he infused Lily with intensified HE. Doubling his efforts for faster results drained his own energy something awful. “Peg flies due to heart and will, Miss Gentry. A passionate determination to accomplish the seemingly impossible.”

  “Are you saying you want me to believe in the impossible?”

  “I am.”

  Chapter Four

  Lily had never believed in magic or miracles, but there was something undeniably wondrous about Doc Blue.

  She had been chilled for three days, since the moment she’d regained consciousness—a chill that emanated from her core. Jasper had supplied a heat generator and plenty of blankets. The few times P.J. had been in this room she’d complained about the blistering temperature. Snoop had commented too. According to them, Lily should have been soaked with sweat and flushed from the heat. Instead, she’d battled the shivers and an incessant bone-deep cold. She was certain she’d never feel warm again.

  She’d been wrong.

  The wonder of it all muted her frustration.

  “Your hands,” she ventured softly as the enigmatic doctor massaged her throbbing left calf. “Swear to heaven, I can feel heat seeping through my skin and into my blood.” She’d experienced the same sensation when he’d palmed her forehead, and again when he’d worked his hands over her broken leg. She’d also felt a queer tingling, but perhaps that was merely due to the circumstance. Lily had never been so intensely aware of a man in all her born days. “I suppose that sounds crazy.”

  “Sounds accurate. Least-wise, that’s how others have described my touch—‘abnormally warm.’ Are you feeling a prickly vibration as well?”

  “It’s more like a tingling.” So she wasn’t imagining the odd and intriguing sensations. For the first time since awakening in this nightmare, someone had distracted her from her own dilemma. Relief warred with curiosity. “Did you warm your hands on the heat generator? Rub stimulating ointment on your palms?”

  “Comes naturally.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I call it HE. Short for Healing Energy.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’s exclusive to me. As far as I know anyway. Aw, hell.”

  Lily tensed at his troubled tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just need … Mind if I sit with you for a few minutes, Miss Gentry?”

  Something was wrong. Lily heard it in his voice. But she sensed it had more to do with him than her. How old was he anyway? Did he fatigue easily? Was he injured in some way? A bum leg maybe?

  If only she could see.

  “Of course not,” she said. “I mean, please do. There’s a chair somewhere. I’ve heard people sit in it.”

  “You can hear people sit?” he asked as he stepped away.

  “The legs of the chair scrape over the wood floor as they reposition it. And it must be rickety, because it groans and creaks under a body’s weight.”

  “Mighty observant.”

  Lily mourned the loss of the physician’s comforting touch, and yet, strangely, the blessed heat continued to radiate. She no longer felt chilled, which was a small mercy that made an amazing difference.

  Hindered by darkness, Lily tapped in to her other senses. Her ears buzzed with the sound of Doc Blue pulling the chair closer to her bed. Then the familiar creaking and groaning of the seat giving way. She tried imagining Doc’s posture. Slumped? Ramrod straight? Her nostrils flared with the pleasing scent of bay rum and a hint of noxious petrol—a scent she associated with P.J. —scents Lily had detected the moment he’d entered her cabin.

  Oh, yes, she’d been most aware of Doc Blue upon his arrival. And she had been most rude. She’d been brusque and spiteful to Jasper and his league as well, but she hadn’t cared. She’d been absorbed in her own misery and angry with them for initiating the disastrous attack.

  Doc Blue had had nothing to do with the attack on the Brittania. He’d come from afar to help. He had helped. And he was her brother’s friend. He didn’t deserve her anger.

  Chagrined, Lily blushed. “You’re a friend of Tuck’s,” she said softly. “You must be a person of fine repute.”

  “Not so fine, not lately. But I do hope to make amends.”

  She wondered at the weariness in his voice. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Just need to rest a moment. Rough flight from London. My pilot was … adventurous.”

  “You’re referring to P.J.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Aside from you, I’ve had four visitors. Jasper, Patch, Snoop, and P.J. Every time P.J.’s in this room she boasts about her flying skills in some form or fashion. Jasper referred to her as fearless. Snoop thinks she’s reckless. Patch called her a glory seeker.”

  “Being she’s a Darcy,” Doc said, “I’d venture all three descriptions apply.”

  Lily furrowed her brow. “You think P.J. is one of the Darcys. The infamous Darcys? The ones related to the Time Voyager?”

  “I know so.”

  “Land sakes.” A blood relation of Briscoe Darcy, the nineteenth-century inventor who’d traveled to the future, ultimately enabling the twentieth-century Peace Rebels to travel back in time with the intent of altering history. They’d come preaching peace and ended up igniting a transcontinental war. Lily had heard the story over and over, and like all fantastic tales, the details often varied. One thing was certain: Even though Briscoe Darcy was stuck in the future, lots of Vics held him accountable for the Peace War as well as the existence of Freaks. “Living in the shadow of someone so famous must be a powerful burden.”

  “You should know,” Doc said, “being the sister of the Sky Cowboy. Dime-novel hero turned notorious outlaw?”

  “Wrongly accused,” Lily said. “Tuck didn’t murder that woman.”

  “I know. Anyone who knows Tuck believes he’s innocent of that crime. That includes Queen Victoria.”

  “What?” Even though she couldn’t see him, Lily shifted toward Doc’s voice. She rolled onto her side easily and with minimal discomfort.

  Healing Energy.

  Her mind burst with a dozen questions regarding Doc Blue and his methods, but just now she focused on her brother. “I’ve been so worried what with Tuck living on the lam. Have you good news? Tell me of the queen. What do you mean?”

  “Queen Victoria promised to make things right for Tuck with the American authorities.”

  “She’s going to ensure he’s exonerated? Why would she do that?”

  “Took a shine to him, I guess. Spoke to some of her people about his case and decided she believed him.”

  “But … but how did they even meet?”

  Doc shifted in his chair, hesitating. “Long and complicated story,” he finally said.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “According to my sources,” Doc said, “the queen also dispatched someone to ensure your safe passage to England. Although those arrangements had been delayed. How is it that you’re here now?”

  Lily blinked. “I knew nothing of this arrangement.”

  “Tuck informed you by Teletype and you responded.”

  “I did not receive such news nor did I respond.” Lily’s heart pounded with fury. Had her so-called caring cousins interfered once more? She could not fathom their intent. Had they panicked when she’d di
sappeared? Were they buying time in hopes of finding her before Tuck learned she was missing? The only saving grace in their lie was that Tuck thought she was safe. “I made this journey under my own steam. All I know for true and certain is that I was desperate to reunite with my brother. To know he thrived. I’ve been so worried. I …” She palmed her chest. “Do you truly believe he’ll be vindicated?”

  “I do.”

  Lily’s mind whirled. Her brother … free at last. Free to return home. To America. Free to police the skies in his airship Maverick and to track and capture dangerous criminals. Free to resume the life he loved as a United States Air Marshal, t o serve and protect the masses.

  All the more reason not to burden Tuck with the daunting care of a stone-blind sister.

  Mood dipping, Lily struggled to understand her precise circumstance and options as Doc Blue stood and, for the second time, palmed her forehead. His touch ignited additional heat, more tingling. Swear to heaven, she’d never felt anything like it. Who, what was this man?

  “Jasper implied he didn’t want to tempt my brother’s wrath. I guess that’s why he didn’t make Tuck aware of my circumstance. So why did he reach out to you, Tuck’s physician? Someone who could and most probably would alert my brother of my whereabouts and condition?”

  “I’m Jasper’s brother,” Doc said.

  Lily blinked. Her mind raced. “So you’re—”

  “A Freak.”

  “Oh.” Before Jasper, she’d never met a Freak. Then again, she’d never met a Chinaman or an Eskimo either. All sorts of folk, of various race and religion, populated the world. It didn’t make any one better than the other.

  “Just ‘oh?’ ”

  She’d purposely schooled her expression while sorting through her thoughts. She’d heard some mighty ugly talk regarding minorities, especially Freaks. No doubt this man was used to snap, harsh judgments. Lily was merely intrigued.

  “That would explain your mysterious methods,” she said, “and the reason HE is exclusive to you. It’s not magic. It’s a supernatural phenomenon.”

  “Mmm.”