by Laura Landon
She must have fallen asleep. When she woke, Roarke had thrown the covers off the bed. His body was drenched in sweat and he thrashed on the bed as if the demons from hell were after him.
She placed her hand on his face and pulled it back when his flesh burned her palm.
“Jack!”
. . . . .
The hours turned into days, and the days turned into a week. Millie spent as many hours with him as she was able, holding his hand and begging him not to give up. But there were times when she feared he had. Times when the pain was obviously so severe that even the laudanum-laced tea they gave him didn’t help. His agonizing cries for the pain to cease ripped her heart from her chest. Then there were times when he fought so hard against the bindings holding him down that it took two of his fellow brigadesmen to hold him still.
His body raged with fever one minute and shivered with chills the next. They piled as many blankets over him as possible one moment, then bathed him in icy cold water then next. And, more than once, Millie thought he’d stopped breathing. More than once she thought she’d lost him.
She’d never prayed so hard in her life. Never bargained with God like she bargained for Roarke’s life. Never feared that she would live the remainder of her life without Roarke being there. She could survive knowing he was far from her—far from Robbie—as long as she knew he was somewhere in her world.
Because she couldn’t bear to be separated from him, she spent as much time with him as she could. She cared for him, and held his hand, and whispered her demand that he stay with her. Repeating over and over that he could not die and leave her.
But each day when she left his room, she wasn’t sure that he’d be alive when she returned. Each day he seemed a little weaker. Each day death seemed to be closer.
Finally though, the day came when death loosened its hold on him. She entered his room and the relieved expression on Jack’s face told her that Roarke had improved. That death no longer had Roarke in its grasp.
She rushed to the bed and placed her hand on his forehead, then on his cheek. “He’s better,” she said. “He’s going to make it.”
Millie swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her eyes watered, and for some reason she didn’t want to have to explain, she was crying.
“His breathing changed about an hour ago,” Jack said. “At first I thought it was a bad sign. Then I realized it was good. He’s breathing easier now.”
Millie rinsed a cloth in the water by the bed and dabbed Roarke’s forehead and face. She needed to keep busy so Jack couldn’t see the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She needed to stay occupied until she could gain control of her emotions. She didn’t want Jack to know how worried she’d been that Roarke wouldn’t survive. He’d already read more into her concern than she wanted him to. As had the other investigators.
“Are you all right, Millie?”
They were on first-name terms, she and Jack. As she was with all the investigators. You couldn’t spend as much time together without getting to know each of them personally.
“I’m fine.” She swiped at her cheeks. “I was just so worried. It’s a relief to know he’s better.”
“I have to tell you I was afraid we were going to lose him,” Jack whispered.
“So was I,” Millie agreed.
Millie straightened the covers over Roarke, then stopped when she heard him try to talk.
“Millie?”
“Yes, Roarke. I’m here.”
“Are you all right?”
Millie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Yes, I’m fine. The boys did exactly what you told them to do. They didn’t stop running until we reached the house.” Millie took a damp cloth and dabbed at the perspiration on Roarke’s brow. “How are you?”
“I hurt like hell.”
“Are you thirsty?”
He nodded.
Millie put the laudanum-laced water to his lips as Jack lifted his head.
“I have to tell you, pal,” Jack said when he lowered Roarke’s head back to the pillow. “You had us worried for a while.”
“I owe you,” Roarke said. “If you hadn’t come when you did I wouldn’t be here. The men who attacked me had no intention of stopping.” Roarke paused long enough to catch his breath. “Did you get a look at them?”
“No, they ran when they saw us coming. It seemed they were after Lord Strothum’s son.”
Roarke nodded. “No doubt about it. They probably intended to hold him hostage in exchange for the design for the breech-loading cannon.” He took several breaths before he spoke again. “Have you discovered the man named Freddy that Annie spoke about?”
Jack leaned forward. “Mack has a lead he’s checking on. We should know soon.”
“Good.”
It was obvious that Roarke was tiring. His face had lost color and he had trouble keeping his eyes open. “You need to rest now, Roarke,” Millie said. She rose.
“Don’t go.”
His statement wasn’t a command. It was more a plea. But staying was impossible. She’d spent too much time with him as it was. She’d let herself become too attached to him when that was the last thing she could afford to let happen.
“I can’t. I need to return to the children. Jack will be here with you, and another one of your friends will come in the morning.” She’d refused his request, but she couldn’t refuse the grin that crinkled the corners of his mouth, as if they shared some secret knowledge. It drew her own mouth into a tender smile she didn’t even attempt to hide.
Millie turned away from him and walked to the door. She stopped before she exited the room.
“I’m glad you’re better,” she whispered, then left.
The relief she felt as she walked to her room was indescribable. The fear that had consumed her when she thought she might lose him had terrified her. The possibility of living her life knowing that he’d been taken from her was beyond contemplating.
And now it seemed they’d reached a new level, a comfortable state of peaceful coexistence. Yet why did that feel so unacceptable? She relished being close to him, even while distance was the only answer. The only safe avenue. She had to keep her distance or she’d risk losing Robbie. Roarke would surely be so livid at her deception that he’d take the boy as far from her as he could.
No, distance was her only choice. Here, in this confining prison, with its four walls keeping her and the children safe, distance was what she had to commit to. Keeping him at arm’s length was her only recourse. And it was a course that seemed nearly impossible. Because no matter how much she chastised herself for what she’d done, she already knew it was too late.
She’d given him her heart and it was too late to get it back.
CHAPTER 9
A week had passed since Roarke’s fever had broken, and each day the struggle to stay away from him was more difficult. She wanted to see him with her own eyes to make sure he was all right. She wanted to check on him to make sure he was receiving the care he should. But she told herself she couldn’t. Told herself she couldn’t risk giving him more of her heart than he already possessed.
She tried to clear her mind from constantly thinking about him, but found it impossible. She knew she should concentrate on the children, and on the daily activities that used to be routine, but thinking of anything other than Roarke was impossible. The fact that the children weren’t allowed to leave the house made things more difficult. They were as uneasy and bored as she was. And her distraction only made matters worse.
“Would you like to rest for a bit?” Janie asked.
Millie shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
“No you’re not, Millie.”
Millie replaced the lid on the box of paints the children had been using, and put it on the shelf. “I am. I’m just a little tired.”
Carter and Beth were napping, and Henry and Robbie were waging a battle with their toy soldiers. Janie took Millie’s hand and pulled her to the other side of the room where they wou
ldn’t be overheard.
“You’re more than tired, Millie. Sit down for a minute. It’s obvious you aren’t sleeping. You’re as jittery as a gnat caught in a light. And if you eat any less, you won’t have a dress that fits you.” Janie sat beside her on the window seat and placed her hand over Millie’s. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
Millie shook her head. Her first instinct was to pretend she didn’t know who Janie was talking about, but she’d never been very good at feigning ignorance. “I don’t want to think about him, but he refuses to leave me alone.”
“Perhaps you should slip out for a moment and check on him.”
“No. That won’t help.”
“What are you afraid of?”
Millie lowered her gaze to her tightly clasped hands in her lap. Even though Janie was a few years younger than Millie, there were times when the way Janie understood what she was thinking made her forget that. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t want Mr. Livingston to misunderstand my concern for something it’s not.”
“I think you’re the one who misunderstands your feelings. Or, perhaps you understand all too well and don’t want to admit what you feel for Mr. Livingston.”
Millie sank back into the cushions. “I don’t want to feel anything for him.” She released a deep breath that made her chest ache.
Janie smiled at her. “I don’t know why, Millie. I’d give anything to have someone so wonderful notice me. The fact that he’s ever so handsome is an added bonus. If I were you, I’d do everything in my power to encourage him.”
“I can’t, Janie.”
“Why ever not? I know you’ve the added responsibility of Robbie, but Mr. Livingston seems like the kind who would see that as a joy.”
Janie had been with Millie since shortly after she’d been taken on by Lord Strothum. She’d gone through everything with Millie, including Rosie’s pregnancy, then her death. She knew that Millie had resigned her post when Robbie was born because she didn’t think the Earl of Strothum would allow someone who was raising an illegitimate babe to take care of his children.
But Lord and Lady Strothum had refused to accept her resignation. Not only did they keep her on as nursemaid to their children, but they insisted that she bring Robbie to live with her and raise him alongside their children. They had shown more concern for Robbie than his own father had.
She would never allow herself to forget that Roarke Livingston had abandoned Rosie the minute he found out she was carrying his babe. Nor could she in good conscience let him have anything to do with Robbie. She had no intention of giving a man as changeable as he’d proven himself to be a second chance to raise his son. What assurance did she have that if he took Robbie away from her he wouldn’t abandon or ignore him again?
“It doesn’t matter if he would or not. He won’t get the chance.”
Janie reached for her hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “Go to your room and lie down for a bit. You need the rest. The babes are napping, and Master Henry and Robbie are busy with their battle. Cook should send up a tray of sweets soon and that will occupy them even longer. Rest for a few hours. I can manage until dinner.”
Millie didn’t want to leave, but she was so tired. Her sleepless nights were catching up with her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Now go.”
Millie felt guilty for leaving Janie alone with the children, but she was desperate to be by herself for a while. She didn’t understand the riotous emotions that plagued her. Didn’t understand why she couldn’t push him out of her mind, but thought of him continuously.
She rose from her chair. “I’ll be back before dinner. Then you can retire early.”
Janie followed her to the door. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Millie put a smile on her face even though she hardly felt like smiling, and walked out of the room. Her world was in chaos around her—and it was entirely his fault.
She walked to her room, intending to lie down like Janie had ordered her to do. But when she reached her door, her feet refused to stop. She continued down the hall to Roarke’s room.
She rationalized her actions by telling herself that she just needed to reassure herself that he was all right. That once she saw for herself that he had improved, she would stop thinking about him. That he would no longer consume her thoughts, and haunt her dreams.
Her feet moved quickly, as if something ordered her to reach his room before she had time to reconsider her action. As if she was driven by a force she couldn’t control.
She walked to his room and knocked, then entered.
She thought she’d find him in bed, but he was sitting in a chair by the window. The bright sunlight made him appear robust and healthy, until he turned his head to look at her.
The bruises on his face had faded, but they were still there. His eyes and jaw were no longer swollen, but the yellow tint to his skin still evidenced where he’d been struck.
His gaze locked with hers, and though she tried, she found it difficult to break contact.
“May I come in?” she asked.
He nodded and she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
“I was afraid you’d decided you never wanted to see me again.”
“I had.”
“What changed your mind?”
She shrugged her shoulders, then walked across the room. “Curiosity,” she answered. “I just wanted to make sure you were progressing.”
“I am. And how about you?”
She couldn’t hide the confusion from showing. “I wasn’t the one hurt,” she answered. “You were.”
“Physically, yes. But that’s not what I was talking about.”
Millie reached the window and pretended interest in the scene outside. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do,” he said. “But we’ve other things to discuss.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Such as?”
Roarke pointed to a nearby chair. “Please, Millie. Sit down.”
She walked to the chair, and sat.
It seemed strange to be sitting this close to him, yet pulling back from him as if he were a total stranger was uncalled for. He wasn’t a stranger. This was the man beside whose bed she’d knelt when she’d whispered her pleas for him not to give up. The man whose hand she’d held hour after hour because as long as they were connected that way, the more certain she was that he would draw from her strength. The man she’d fed when he couldn’t lift a spoon to feed himself. Washed because he was too weak to care for himself. And other things she wasn’t comfortable remembering now that he’d improved.
“How are the children?”
Millie was relieved his question was so mundane and easy to answer. “They’re fine. They still talk about their grand adventure, and the roles they played in protecting me.” She paused. “Thank you for hiding the real intent of the men who threatened us. I can’t imagine how it might affect Master Henry to know that someone intended to do him harm.”
“But it didn’t happen.”
Millie nodded. “But I should have realized the possibility that whoever wanted the information Lord Strothum has in his possession would use any means to get it. Even kidnapping a child.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
Roarke shifted in his chair and Millie noticed a hint of discomfort. “Are you in a great deal of pain?”
“Not so much as before. Only my ribs. They refuse to let me forget they took the brunt of the attack.”
“Did you recognize any of the men?”
“No, but Annie was right. One of them was called Beecher.” The expression on his face turned serious. “May I ask you a question? A question I’d appreciate you keeping to yourself?”
“Of course.”
“You’ve been in Lord Strothum’s employ for how long?”
“Nearly eight years. I was hired shortly before Master Henry was born.”
“Is the staff pretty mu
ch the same now as when you came?”
Millie nodded. “Lord Strothum is very good to work for. The staff is happy here.”
“What about Rogers?”
“Rogers?” Millie couldn’t hide her surprise. “Why do you ask about Rogers?”
“No reason in particular. I’ve had lots of time to think over the last few weeks, and I’m trying to answer some questions I have.”
“Surely you don’t suspect Rogers of being involved.”
“No, not really.”
“Good. Because he can’t be. He would never do anything to harm Lord Strothum.”
“You seem to be quite familiar with Rogers.”
Millie hesitated a moment. She wasn’t comfortable with Roarke Livingston knowing anything about her, but what would this hurt? Besides, she couldn’t allow him to think Rogers was in any way involved with an attempt to kidnap Master Henry.
“Actually, I am. I’ve known him all my life.”
Such a revelation surprised Roarke. She was glad. “We come from the same village. His father was the local schoolmaster. Everyone thought Rogers would follow in his father’s footsteps, but one day he left the village for London. The next we heard he’d become a butler. After that, we only saw him when he came back to visit his parents.”
“I thought there was a connection between you and Rogers.”
His statement confused her. “Why did you think that?”
“The way he watches over you. The concern he showed when you fell that day. It was more than a butler would have for a staff member.”
“I have my position because of him.”
Roarke’s eyebrows lifted.
“When my father died, my mother, sister and I were left without support. After the funeral, Rogers called on me to tell me that his employer, Lord Strothum, had married and his wife was expecting a child. He knew they were looking for a nursemaid and told me if I was interested in the position, he’d put in a word for me. I never expected Lord and Lady Strothum to choose me, but they did, and I came to London.”
“What about your mother and sister?”
Millie hesitated. “I brought them with me. They lived in a small place not far from here.”
