“It feels…terrible.”
“I am sorry, Sunny, you forced me to do this.” She should have known they would come for her.
“I think you need a rest, Sunny, a nice long rest.” Dr. Meeker continued caressing her hand.
“Aunt Frances,” Sunny called out. The word was a plea. She was drowning. She didn’t want this. So, why wasn’t she fighting them?
“We’ll go to France, just me, you and Mrs. Tibbs and her assistants,” Dr. Meeker explained softly. He gave her hand a squeeze. “How will that be? Lovely, eh?”
“No…no…”
“No?” Dr. Meeker used a jesting tone but she also heard his hurt beneath it. And he was still squeezing her hand.
“James…he will…”
“Ah, yes, Lord Blayne. He means well.”
“Yes…he does.”
“But he doesn’t understand what ails you, Catriona. He can’t help you the way I can.” Dr. Meeker said, taking her by the upper arm. Gripping her.
“I think…” She licked her lips and tried to swallow, to wet her mouth. “He could help me.”
Dr. Meeker chuckled. The toneless laugh sent a chill through her. His fingers dug into her arms as he looked away from her.
He smiled but continued to grip Sunny mercilessly.
Was he looking at Aunt Frances? Mrs. Tibbs?
Sunny couldn’t tell. “Please leave us for a moment,” he said, so politely one would never know how his fingers were pinching her. She would have bruises there.
“Oh, no…Aunt Frances, please, no…,” Sunny began.
“Now, you’re not afraid to be alone with me, are you?” Dr. Meeker asked in an amused tone.
She felt the hollowness of that amusement in the pit of her stomach. “No, I trust you,” she said.
Fight! Do something!
The soft click of the door resounded in her stomach. Acid lurched into her throat and she swallowed it back.
“You want to be Blayne’s whore?” Dr. Meeker’s voice was steely soft. “After all I have done for you?”
“I-I…” She swallowed, hard. “I think he could help me.”
“He doesn’t care for you. Not as I do. I daresay, he doesn’t know how to care for a woman. None of these gentlemen do. I treat you like a princess. You know I do. And you know you’re not worthy of it, not yet. But you can be. If you let me help you.”
“He could help me. I-I…I know he could.”
“Don’t spoil everything we’ve worked for. I have worked too hard on you to lose you, to give up on you.”
“Yes, I suppose you have but—”
“I shall have to administer correction.”
“No,” she blurted. “No more...” Silence ensued.
The clock ticked and ticked.
Sweat flooded her palms. Her stomach twisted.
“It would be a great shame if your secrets were ever to reach the ears of Society,” Dr. Meeker said.
She sucked in her breath.
“A great shame, Catriona.”
“You’re…threatening me?”
“I am not threatening you. I don’t need to. Your own wanton acts will betray you. You were in a very dangerous situation. You were about to take a most unwise detour in your life. You can’t trust yourself.”
“I can.”
“You cannot control yourself.”
“I can!” She had almost shouted the word. The effort caused dizziness to swirl inside her head, sickening her. She took a deep breath and continued softer. “I will.”
“You can’t. Think on your failures. Think on how they have proven just how little you can trust yourself.”
She could say nothing.
“What gives you any confidence that you can control yourself?”
“I think Lord Blayne can help—”
“Catriona, ah Catriona, my poor gullible girl. Have you learned nothing about men? After all your mistakes, you’ve learned nothing.”
“I trust him.”
“He wants to fuck you, Catriona.”
Shock washed over her. She gaped at him.
“Has he fucked you? Did you spread your legs and offer your hungry, wanton little cunt to him?”
She gasped. Heart hammering, she shook her head.
“But you wish he had fucked you? Oh, that’s what you want, is it?” Dr. Meeker’s voice was hard, cold. “To be the receptacle for James Blayne’s lust?”
“You make it all sound…” Her stomach lurched and she swallowed hard. “Very base.”
“It is very base.” He released her. “You are very base.”
She looked up at him.
He glowered down at her.
She had made him angry before, but never like this. Her heart pounded.
“I will not punish you. Not today.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“I would not waste my time and energy on it now.”
She was free…She had freed herself!
“Go then and fuck James Blayne.” His lip curled in a sneer. “When he’s done with you he’ll toss you aside, as any man would do with you as you are now. No man wants a whore for a wife.”
“He would no’ be cruel to me.”
“He will.”
“No, I can no’ believe it.”
“Well, Catriona, I should let you go and debase yourself. You deserve it. But I know myself. When he’s done with you and you realize your mistake, come back to me and I will be helpless to turn away from you. I will try to pick up the pieces and do my best to put you back together. Just as I did before.”
Her blood froze. “What are you saying?”
“As much as you deserve to be abandoned, I will not do that to myself. I must protect you against the worst sides of yourself, and I must forgive you for your weaknesses, as I always do.”
He leaned over her then put his hand on the coverlet. “There’s no time to waste.” He ripped the covers off of her. Coldness penetrated the thin material of her shift.
“Catriona!” The angry male voice startled her.
A hard fist pounded on the door. Each pound on her door seemed to echo in her chest, in the beat of her heart.
Dr. Meeker paled. He dropped the covers and backed away.
Chapter Twelve
Sunny yanked the coverlet up over her breasts.
Dr. Meeker stared at the door. Was his hand trembling?
It was the first time she’d ever seen him show weakness.
Or fear.
“Damn it, where is she?” James’ voice thundered.
“Don’t use language like that in this house, James Blayne.” Aunt Frances’ voice.
“I’ll be saying a lot worse than that if you don’t open that damned door.”
“I’ll do no such thing! Sunny is home to stay.”
“The devil she is.”
“Listen to you!” Aunt Frances’ voice lowered. “You must be as mad as she is. Wait!” A pause. “What are you—”
A loud bang reverberated against the door. Wood cracked.
The door burst open and James barreled inside.
Sunny cried out.
Dr. Meeker stood taller, straighter. “I am her doctor, I have every right to—”
“I told you to stay away from her.” James’ voice sounded cold as death.
“Your aunt and grandmother engaged my services. You cannot interfere—”
Dr. Meeker’s voice died suddenly.
Aunt Frances screamed.
James yanked a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at Dr. Meeker’s chest.
Sunny attempted to sit and giddiness swirled about her. She struggled upright and she saw James pointing a pistol directly at Dr. Meeker’s chest.
“How dare you?” Dr. Meeker said. “I am an intimate friend of the Earl of —”
“Get out,” James ordered.
“My lord, you’re making a grave mistake.” Had there been a quaver in Dr. Meeker’s voice?
James pulled back the hammer. “Get out.”
The doctor’s eyes widened. He whirled and pushed past Aunt Frances as he ran from the room.
James uncocked the pistol and stuffed it into his waistband and took two steps to the bed. He scooped Sunny up, coverlet and all, into his arms.
She buried her face in his chest and cried as he strode from the chamber. “You cannot just carry her out of this house!” Aunt Frances’ strident voice echoed down the corridor.
James quickened his steps down the stairs now. He reached the landing and strode down the hallway and pushed out the front door.
Suddenly, it seemed they were outside. They were outside! The brilliant September sunshine hurt her drug-dilated eyes. She gave a small cry and had to not only close them but to throw her hand over her eyes.
He tightened his arms about her.
“We’ll be in the carriage soon,” he promised.
Chapter Thirteen
A hard jolt startled Sunny awake. With the scent of fresh leather and paint threatening to overwhelm her, in the yellow glow of lamplight, she slowly focused on the interior of a grand, roomy traveling carriage. The seats made squeaking noises as she stretched her aching body. Across from her, a tall shadow moved.
“Thank God you’re finally awake,” James said.
She noticed the pressure to relieve her bladder was incredible and she had to cross her legs
“H-how—” a huge yawn forced its way out of her mouth “—how long did I sleep?”
He pulled out his watch and glanced at it. “Seven hours, love.”
Love.
How naturally he said that.
She hadn’t pictured him as a man who used many endearments. But the word filled her with warmth. Then the meaning of what he said struck her. “Seven hours?” She shook herself more thoroughly awake then pulled one of the leather curtains aside. It was a dark, moonless night. “Where are we?”
“We are headed to Brownwood.”
Without her needing to request it, he rapped on the forward wall. The coachmen brought the carriage to a halt and he left her alone to avail herself of the necessary. The simple act of emptying the china basin and rinsing it all on her own indicated the reality of her new situation as nothing else could have. Privacy. Sweet privacy. Without so much as a lady’s maid to watch her pee.
And then they were back on their way, and despite the light from the lamps he’d lit, the steady roll of the carriage might have lulled her back to sleep, except for one thing.
“He’ll come after me.” She couldn’t help but give voice to her fears.
James looked up from the paper he’d been reading. His eyes were brilliant blue and cold as December. “He’ll be a dead man if he does.”
His voice held a hardness that lent unshakable seriousness to what might have been bluster for another man. It sent a shiver through her. She couldn’t imagine Papa or Freddy ever making such a declaration.
“I have dismissed Robert from my personal service. I sent him back to Mayfair where he may cool his heels mucking out the horse stalls.” His voice still rang with coldness. “But you must know, he didn’t realize what they intended. He thought they simply wanted to talk to you. He thought the medication was only enough to calm you, to make you agreeable to conversation. When he saw the extent of their plans, he came and found me and confessed the whole matter.”
She had to tell him the whole truth. “That first night, when we left Blayne House, I was so relieved; yet deep inside, I had been so very frightened that I would return.”
The look he gave her! So stern yet so probing.
It sent a nervous shudder through her.
He continued to stare for several moments. Peeling away her defenses. Iciness wound through her stomach. Was he finally seeing her as she truly was?
She swallowed, hard. When he finally saw her, when he finally had to admit who and what she’d grown up to be, would he turn away in disgust? Or would he sympathize with her? Would he then provide her with the guidance she needed? Would he share himself?
He frowned. “You mean return on your own?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t keep the sadness from her voice.
“Why would you ever return to those who had manipulated and hurt you so much?”
She stared at him helplessly. How to explain?
“Tell me, Sunny. You can tell me anything.” His voice was softer and his expression eased a bit.
It gave her courage. She lowered her eyelids and rolled one shoulder ever so slightly. “I am frightened of myself, sometimes. I am also frightened of how much I’ve leaned on him. How much I’ve come to depend on him.” She flashed him a look.
What would he think now?
Clear blue eyes gazed back at her, intense and warm. He appeared so open to her, so patient. Hope flooded her.
Dear God, please, please let it be real. Don’t let me fool myself all over again.
He nodded curtly. “Why do you think you have found so much comfort from a man you fear?”
“Because I fear myself so much!” she blurted, feeling her heart accelerate with her rising emotions. She felt frustration with him for making her repeat such a damning admission. Anger at herself for being so weak, so flawed.
So broken.
He gazed back at her calmly.
In the face of that calm, she was embarrassed to have lost control, to have spoken sharply to him. She bit her lower lip and glanced down. “I want so much from life, things I fear I’ve no right to ask for. But I can no’ hold back the wanting.”
“You have every right, Sunny. You have a right to every happiness in this life.”
Her heart lodged in her throat. Dare she ask for everything? He had already promised her and then rejected her afterward.
“I want something from you.” She paused, feeling her heart race at her audacity.
“I can’t do that, Sunny. I won’t take advantage of you.”
“I do want that.” She inhaled deeply, struggling for courage. “But this is something more.”
“What exactly do you want from me, Sunny?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know how to put it into words without sounding foolish.”
He moved to sit beside her. His scent wafted over her, a subtle mix of spicy citrus cologne and masculinity. But more than that, vitality radiated from him like a force, tingling through her as her every nerve ending came alive.
He took her hand into his own. He had removed his glove and she hadn’t been wearing any, so that his bare skin touched hers. His palm was hard yet smooth and so warm, his grip so firmly gentle that she had a sense of being surrounded by his strength, his protection.
Warmth flooded her. She melted, simply melted, leaning back against the seat. “There’s just you and me here.” His deep voice resounded with tenderness. “There’s nothing that can be foolish between us, so long as we are open and honest with each other.”
That clear blue gaze still held hers, so open to her. No one had ever looked at her like that. She was sure this was the most intimate gaze she’d ever shared with anyone. This was the closest she had ever felt to anyone. She could tell him anything.
“I want your guidance.” Now that the words were out, her heart raced at her daring. Yet she hadn’t quite got the whole matter out, had she? She took a trembling breath, to try and slow her heart’s beat. “I want you to protect me, to set limits for me. To give me consequences.”
The words had taken much out of her and her body went weak. Limp. But her spirit soared. Would he understand?
James studied her eyes, struck by how they shone with hope. God, weren’t they the most beautiful eyes? Like the greenest grass in the early morning, sparkling with water-droplets. The weight of that hope centered clearly in his chest. Her eyes searched his. Again, he had that feeling of seeing the former Sunny, the cheerful girl she had been, imposed over the sensual, yet rather brooding woman she had become. A moment passed. Then another. Her fingers curled tighter around his. She bit her lip again. Her lashes fluttere
d down until her eyes appeared half-closed.
All right, he understood what she was asking for. It caused a dark sort of arousal to flare to life in his blood. But no, he couldn’t possibly do it. Not with her. Not with his gentle, girlish, innocent Sunny. The ladylike Scottish lass with the cheerful air that he remembered.
Not after what she had been through.
With anyone else, yes.
But not her.
“I am here for you, Sunny. I am taking you to Brownwood, and together we will work to cure you of any dependency you have on laudanum, and you will have a rest, away from others. When you feel strong enough, perhaps you will want to settle in London and start your life over. ”
“Oh goodness, yes, you’re so very kind and generous with your time, taking me to Brownwood as planned. But that type of caring, while it is part of what I want, it is no’ completely the way I meant.”
He knew that.
“I need your strength.” She paused and compressed her lips, her hand gripping his tighter than ever. “Else I fear I might return.”
Her cloak had gaped open. In the lamplight the sheer muslin of her shift appeared creamy yellow in color, the tops of her bosom rich ivory above the deep-pink ribbon trim. She had skin like no other woman he had known. Velvety soft. He longed to trace his fingertips down from her collarbone, down the deep crease between her generous breasts. Desire shot through his loins. His rising erection strained against his fall. He had to actively tear his gaze away from her luscious curves.
What had she just said? Something about returning to Meeker? He frowned. She wasn’t making sense. “The devil you say. You wouldn’t return.”
She flinched. Barely. But he had seen it all the same. Inwardly, he winced. He became aware of his pounding heart, of the heat in his neck and his ears. His anger had built so quickly, he hadn’t been able to keep the sharpness from his tone. Why couldn’t he remember to treat her with patience? Why couldn’t he maintain his self-control around her? She’d been through enough in the past few years. She didn’t need to be burdened with all the turbulent emotions that kept boiling up within him at her nearness.
He caressed her hand, briefly, gently, with his fingertips. “Why do you believe you would ever return?” he said, far more patiently.
The Delicate Matter of Lady Blayne (Intimate Secrets Book 1) Page 16
