by Meara Platt
He proceeded to explain the situation to Coventry, careful to omit mention of that first kiss he’d shared with Abby. By the look Coventry was giving him, he’d probably guessed that more had passed between him and Abby than Tynan was letting on. Hell, that kiss had been mild compared to what he wished to do to the luscious girl. “You have a cottage in Falmouth that would suit Abby’s… Miss Croft’s needs perfectly. I’d like to lease it from you on her behalf.”
Coventry leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin as he considered all Tynan had told him and the request he’d made. “How often will you visit her?”
Tynan frowned. “Not often, if that’s what has you concerned. Perhaps once a month. Sooner if she sends word to me that she needs my help. I’m not setting her up in a love nest. Her brother needs serious medical attention. Her time there will not be easy. In truth, I had hoped that you would escort her there. I don’t want her associated with me. She needs privacy while dealing with her brother’s situation, not her name emblazoned in headlines across the scandal sheets.”
“I see. You’re quite protective of the girl.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, his fingers still steepled under his chin as he contemplated his response. “What does she think of you?”
Tynan arched an eyebrow, at first considering a glib response, but Coventry deserved better. “She thinks of me as her savior.”
“Hmm, her savior. I know the effect you have on women. She’s probably in love with you by now.”
“She’s a careful girl.” His chair squeaked as he shifted uncomfortably. “I doubt her thoughts are on anything other than saving her brother.”
What was Coventry worried about? “Just tell me what’s on your mind,” he said, wanting to get back to Abby with good news about the arrangements as soon as possible. He’d told her that he’d see her tomorrow, but she’d invited him to stop by at any time if he had something to report, and he couldn’t seem to get her out of his thoughts. He wanted to see her tonight.
“I heard from the staff of your good deed in saving Miss Croft. Now I understand what terrible business brought her here. She must have been desperate indeed to risk her life in coming after her brother. You do realize that she’ll give you anything you ask because you are truly her savior, at least in her eyes.”
“What’s your point?”
“You are notorious in your dalliances with the ladies, Westcliff. How long before you come around to asking this young lady for the only thing that is hers to give you?”
He regarded Coventry, stunned. “I will not take her innocence against her will.”
“I know, but you will take it because she won’t be able to resist you.”
Tynan’s eyes began to blaze, more for the fact that Coventry was right about him and the likely outcome.
“You won’t force her, I know that. Lying in your arms will probably be the best night of her life and she’ll enjoy it. And then you’ll be gone and she’ll have nothing left of you… or of herself.”
Tynan’s jaw clenched and his entire body stiffened. “What are your terms?”
“I’ll let the cottage in Falmouth to her and her brother for six months. I’ll escort her there. I’ll allow you to visit her because you are important to her, and I sense that she is important to you despite your disreputable ways. But if you take her innocence… you must promise to marry her.”
He stared at Coventry, dumbfounded. “Marry her?”
Coventry’s gaze was as sharp and piercing as that of a hawk’s. “Do we have a deal?”
There were a thousand things Tynan wanted to say to the old man. There were a thousand curses he wanted to toss at him and a thousand refusals ready to spew from his lips. Instead, he said just one word. “Yes.”
TYNAN KNEW HE was playing with fire by stopping by the Whitpool townhouse to look in on Abby and her brother one last time before he retired to his own bed… alone… in his own empty townhouse and not at his club.
He wasn’t merely playing with fire but diving into it head first, especially after agreeing to suffer the direst of consequences if he ever seduced Abby. Surprisingly, that promise to marry her did not distress him nearly as much as he thought it would.
He glanced at his watch.
Almost eleven o’clock in the evening.
Had Abby retired to her quarters yet?
His carriage came to a halt outside her residence, but he did not immediately climb out. He looked for lights in the windows. There were several. One shone in Peter’s bedchamber. Another shone in the drawing room, which meant Abby was still awake. “I won’t be long,” he told his driver.
After the promise he’d made to Coventry, he wasn’t going to spend more time with the girl than necessary, not even to watch over Abby’s brother.
Jameson was at the door, holding it open for him before he’d taken two steps through the gate. “Where is Miss Croft?”
Jameson pointed to the drawing room.
Tynan nodded. “Let her know that I wish to see her.”
“Follow me, my lord. You may see her, but she’s fallen asleep on the sofa. I dare not wake her. The poor thing hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks.”
Tynan’s breath caught in his chest the moment he entered and saw her slender form curled in a kittenish ball on the sofa. She’d unpinned her prettily upswept curls so that her glorious auburn hair was splayed across the blue silk decorative pillows.
She was in a deep, restful sleep. Her dark lashes rested upon her pale cheeks. Her pink lips were partly open and she was snoring in a soft, kittenish purr.
Lord help him, she was beautiful. Indeed, luminescent in the soft, golden firelight.
Someone had tucked a blanket over her shoulders rather than waken her. He was about to offer to carry her up to her bedchamber, but immediately decided against it. The girl was too tempting. “How is her brother faring?”
Jameson’s eyes turned misty “Holding his own, my lord. At least for this evening. Vickers is sitting with him now. One of the footmen will take over from him in the morning.”
Tynan nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on Abby. There was a purity to her beauty that he found fascinating and made it hard for him to draw his gaze away. “I’ll come by with the doctor in the morning. Let her know that I stopped by with good news.”
“I certainly will, my lord. She is in dire need of a reason to smile.”
He nodded, taking a moment to brush a stray curl off her brow. Perhaps he only wanted a reason to touch her. She didn’t wake up. He stifled his disappointment and leaned close. “Sweet dreams, Abby.”
“You too, my dearest,” she mumbled in her sleep.
Did she know she was speaking to him?
My dearest.
He’d received many endearments in his rakish life, but none had ever sounded sweeter. He rose and left her side, cursing himself with every stride. He shouldn’t have come here tonight. He ought to have waited until morning. But he hadn’t and his little rabbit, with her softly spoken words, had just taken another big bite out of him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A MISSIVE CAME for Tynan the following morning, just as he was about to leave for the Whitpool residence. It was half past eight o’clock in the morning. Dr. Farthingale was due to visit there at nine, but Tynan hoped to arrive a few minutes earlier for a private word with Abby. He wanted to be sure that she was holding up all right and not quietly falling apart. Everyone, including Abby, had concentrated their attention on her brother.
Someone had to look out for her.
Why shouldn’t it be him?
He stared at the paper in his hand, recognizing the seal embossed on it, and frowned. Coventry. What else did he want?
He unfolded the parchment to find nothing more than an invitation to join him for tea at the Coventry residence. The invitation included a request to bring Abby with him. He nodded his approval, for that made sense. The three of them would need to review the details of her t
ravel plans to Falmouth and the terms of her stay at Coventry’s cottage.
Of course, an earl’s cottage was no unassuming two room house with an aging thatched roof. Although Tynan had never seen the property, he expected the house to be a stately manor constructed of brick or local stone and containing at least twenty rooms. Those would include two or three dining rooms, a music room, a library, the earl’s study, two parlors, and no less than six or seven bedchambers.
He tucked the missive in his breast pocket, pleased with the speed at which matters were progressing.
Abby met him at the Whitpool front door, her brandy eyes wide and sparkling, and a heartwarming smile on her soft lips. Her woolen gown was the auburn color of her hair, and as usual, she had little adornment other than a bit of lace trim at her collar and the cuffs of her sleeves. “Jameson said you had good news to tell me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t awake to see you last night. Did you sleep well? You look wonderful. But don’t you always?”
He was a jaded, cynical earl, so how did she manage to send his heart careening every time he set eyes on her? “I think you will find it is very good news.”
He laughed when she suddenly took him by the forearm and dragged him into the drawing room. He understood that she was excited to hear of the plans for her brother’s recovery. “Tell me everything, Tynan. I’m so grateful. You’ve brought me yet another miracle. Oh, dear. Have you had a bite to eat yet? May I offer you–”
“Abby, I’m fine. Calm down and let me tell you what I’ve arranged. But first, tell me how your brother is faring.”
Her smile faltered a little. “He’s survived the night and is sleeping restfully.”
“Good.” He settled on the sofa and was pleased when she took a seat beside him. Since she was leaping out of her skin to hear the details, he wasted no more time on pleasantries. “The Earl of Coventry has agreed to help you.”
“Thank you, Tynan,” she said with such breathless ardor, one would think he’d just given her a necklace of diamonds. But to Abby, the means to save her brother was far more precious than any dazzling gemstone.
“The earl has a house in Falmouth that he will let to you for six months, or longer should the need arise. He’ll send word today to his housekeeper to have the house readied for your arrival and intends to accompany you there. But he can’t leave until the end of the week, so it will be another five or six days until you are underway.”
She listened intently and nodded as he set forth the details.
He felt the light curl of her fingers against his own. Somehow, she’d taken hold of his hand.
Or had he taken hers?
He supposed it didn’t matter, for their hands were entwined and neither one of them had any desire to let go.
He knew they shouldn’t be holding hands at all. He knew that he shouldn’t have kissed her yesterday. He was playing with fire by being here now, caring about this girl, and willing to move heaven and earth to help her.
He knew that he shouldn’t want to kiss her again, but he did want to and probably would kiss her because she was becoming a craving for him.
Hell, merely holding her hand was twisting him inside out.
He wasn’t going to release her, nor was he going to think about what was happening between them. He liked the way she made him feel. But everything could change tomorrow. He was a disreputable rogue and his feelings weren’t to be trusted.
He cleared his throat. “Coventry has invited us to tea at his residence this afternoon. I expect it will be just the three of us, perhaps his wife and one of his trusted clerks, too. We’ll need to work out the details of your stay and this is as good a time as any for you to get to know the Earl of Coventry. I’m sure he’s eager to meet you.”
“Tynan,” she said with a sweet ache to her voice, “thank you a thousand times over.”
He saw that she was getting sentimental and quickly sought to change the topic before he took her into his arms to soothe her. Of course, holding her in his arms would have the opposite effect on him, leaving him in fiery torment. Which would lead to more kisses, none of which would be tame or remotely proper.
He released her hand and stood, needing to put a little distance between him and Abby. “Shall we look in on Peter?”
“Not yet. Let’s wait for the doctor. My brother is sleeping peacefully and I wouldn’t like to disturb him. He was snoring when I tiptoed in earlier this morning.” She took a deep breath. “He was alive. He is alive.”
She appeared ready to say more, but rose instead and moved toward the window as a carriage clattered to a stop in front of her home. “Oh, excellent. Dr. Farthingale is here.”
Although she stood quietly and appeared calm, Tynan saw that her fingers were nervously playing with the lace on her collar. “Abby, he’s the best. If anyone can heal your brother, it’s Dr. Farthingale.”
She nodded. “I knew he had to be the best because you brought him to me. He put me at ease the moment I met him. You keep performing these miracles for me, Tynan. I… there’s too much I want to say to you… and I keep praying that I won’t ever lose you, which is ridiculous because it will happen. It’s just a question of when.”
“Abby, you exaggerate my importance.” He didn’t know what else to say.
She cast him the sweetest smile. “Not at all. Meeting you has been a precious gift for me. I may think of you as my angel, but I know you are very much a man of flesh and blood, with strengths and weaknesses as we all have. I know we will part ways, certainly once my brother and I ride off to Falmouth. But I also want you to know that I shall never forget you and all you’ve done for me.”
Jameson announced the doctor, sparing Tynan the need of a reply. He didn’t know what to say to Abby. Yes, he would leave. That’s what men like him did.
After briefly telling the doctor about the travel plans he’d arranged with Coventry, he followed Abby and the doctor upstairs to her brother’s chamber. “I know of an excellent man in Falmouth,” Dr. Farthingale said as they climbed the stairs. “I’ll write to him to let him know the situation and to expect Miss Croft or Lord Coventry to contact him upon their arrival.”
Abby graced the doctor with one of her generous smiles. “That sounds perfect.”
They entered Peter’s chamber. Tynan stood quietly beside Abby, his arms folded across his chest as the doctor checked Peter’s pulse, his heartbeat, and set his hand across his brow to check for fever.
Tynan knew that Abby’s brother was still fighting off a fever, for his complexion was sallow, except for his cheeks that were stained a bright pink, and he was shivering while, at the same time, his hair and forehead were soaked in sweat.
Abby began to fuss again with the lace at her collar. She’d noticed her brother’s condition, too. The fact that he appeared to be sleeping peacefully was no cause for rejoicing. In truth, as the drugs wore off, he should have been tossing and turning and grumbling. But he wasn’t, for the bad mix of drugs and fever were sapping the life from him. “Peter, the doctor is here. Open your eyes, my dearest. How do you feel?”
My dearest.
Tynan stifled his disappointment, realizing she’d thought he was Peter wishing her sweet dreams last night.
She hadn’t been responding to him at all, but to her brother.
Whatever disappointment he might have felt disappeared a moment later as Peter stirred awake and realized that he was being guarded.
“Damn you, Abby. Get the hell out of here,” he snarled, and then began to hurl curses at her that made even Tynan blush. Each vile epithet was like a punch to Abby’s heart, for the girl wore her heart on her sleeve and Tynan noticed the subtle recoil of her body with each blow Peter landed.
Heat flooded Abby’s cheeks and tears welled in her eyes.
Tynan put a protective arm around her, but it wasn’t enough to lend comfort. She had to be so deeply hurt by this brother who didn’t deserve her love. Was this the same man who’d uttered “I love you” to his sister only yesterday?
Dr. Farthingale exchanged a pitying glance with him. “My lord, would you escort Miss Croft downstairs?”
Since Tynan already had his hands on her trembling shoulders, he nodded and steered her out. “Come along, Abby.”
Had her brother not been at death’s door, Tynan would have taken his fists to him. The man deserved to have the stuffing beat out of him. He hated that Abby had to endure this treatment. “I know he doesn’t mean it,” she said as they descended the stairs. “He’s sick and doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Come with me. We’re going for a walk in the park. You need to get out of here for a while.”
“But the doctor–”
“He’ll wait for us to return. We won’t be long.” He called for Jameson to fetch Abby’s cloak.
“What about the need for discretion? You and me alone? It isn’t proper. We’ll draw everyone’s attention.”
The girl had almost been killed two days ago and had seen her brother almost die yesterday. She had endured being savagely cursed out by the wretch only moments ago. And she was worried about taking a walk in the park with him? He shook his head and sighed. “Your maid can follow us.”
“But the ton gossips will see us together.”
“My carriage is standing outside your front door, the Westcliff crest on prominent display. Every one of your neighbors has noticed that I’ve come around two days in a row now. It’s done, Abby. I’m not going to squirrel you away. You’re not my mistress or some indiscreet liaison that I need to hide from prying eyes.”
She frowned at him. “Then they’ll think you’re courting me.”
“So what?” In truth, he was no longer afraid to let their acquaintance take whatever course it was meant to take. He would be honest with Abby. She’d know the truth, whatever that truth was. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”
“No! Of course not.” She appeared genuinely surprised, and her eyes rounded in horror. “I should think it is the other way around, that you don’t wish to be seen with me.”
“I’m not objecting, so why should you?”
