Wounds of A Viscount: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  His wife was noble.

  “Why not tell her now?” Kent asked.

  Nora shook her head and leaned away from Garrick. He let her. “I had no intention of telling anyone. No one ever believed me except for Johanna. Meri has two sides. There is the gentleman and then there is the child. Only I ever get to see the child.” Garrick thought he saw the child today while Meri grinned down from his place at the top of the steps while his sister wept over Miriam.

  And Miriam was fair. She had a wild golden mane. Would Meri hurt her? He’d hurt his sister, even if indirectly. Anything was possible.

  “This is my fault,” Nora said in pain. “I should have known. Lettie was not the first. My brother had told me over and over again just how pretty my friends were and always they ended up hurt in some way. I should have known. I was the only one who could have stopped him, and I didn’t.”

  “Your parents didn’t believe you?” Kent asked.

  She shook her head. “No, they didn’t. Once Meri gave them his gentle side, he could convince them of anything. The authorities didn’t believe me either. Who would take the word of a woman over an earl? Once my father declared him innocent, there was little anyone could do.”

  Garrick turned her chin to face him. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I can,” she responded. “He told me. All those years, I was little more than his accomplice. I chose the friends and he abused them and now Lettie is gone, but there is a chance she still lives. I have to find her.”

  Garrick looked at the other men. When Nora had rushed from the room, they’d discussed Lettie and had all come to the same conclusion.

  They were confident that the girl was dead. They’d been kidnapped, but ten years was a long time for no one to have found her. Also, Garrick had looked into Meri after he saw Nora leaving his house. The brother had moved to Germany, stayed there for seven or more years, and then returned. Who would have cared for Lettie while he was gone? Who would he have told the truth to? It would have been hard to take a person with him otherwise.

  Nora looked around the room. “You’ll help me find her, won’t you?”

  “We can speak to Meri for you,” Kent said darkly. “But we won’t ask him kindly.”

  “That won’t work,” Nora said. “Threatening him with pain or even his life won’t work.” Her gaze flickered to Garrick before it fell. “I’ve… tried it before.”

  “What do you mean?” Clive asked with interest.

  “I hired someone to spy on my brother.” Nora turned to Garrick. “That was who I visited when I went to see my brother. His name is Joshua. He hired a group of men to rough up my brother and find Lettie. They beat Meri severely, yet he said nothing.” Nora put a hand on Garrick’s chest. “My brother cannot be dealt with like a normal man. That’s why I told you not to get involved. He cannot be handled by normal means.” She’d stressed the word handle because she knew what that meant in Garrick’s dark world.

  Some of his animosity fell away. “Where is your spy? We need to speak to him.”

  “I don’t know. My brother found out about him and I think he…” Nora burst into tears and Garrick vowed to rip Meri’s head from his shoulders. How his wife managed to find so many tears in one day, he didn’t know. It had been a stressful day. She needed to rest.

  “Tomorrow,” Garrick said to his friends as he cradled his wife. They would discuss it further tomorrow, but today, he would take his family home. The sun had yet to leave the sky, and they’d all dealt with more than enough.

  Clive followed him out. “I’ll see what I can find out about Joshua and bring you any news I come across.”

  Garrick helped Nora and Miriam into the carriage and then turned to Clive. “No. Have James deal with finding Joshua. Put Marley in charge of finding out everything he can about Lettie. Speak to Kent about finding men to watch over Lady Johanna without her being aware of it. There’s no need to tell her about Lettie until we know more.”

  Clive nodded. “What do I do?”

  “I need you to find Luke.”

  “Luke is missing?” Clive asked, surprised.

  Garrick nodded. “Find him. His wife is looking for him, and I have no intention of returning to the brothel.”

  Clive grinned and placed a hand on Garrick’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Don’t worry. Your time is coming soon.”

  “Perhaps.” Clive shrugged. “Though I doubt it will be like anything any of you have found. I’ve been labeled a thief, if you recall. No decent chaperone will let me near their darling girl.”

  “We all have our disadvantages,” Garrick signed. “We’ve survived something many could not. You deserve happiness.”

  “And are you happy?” Clive asked.

  Garrick looked back at Nora. She was holding Miriam and speaking to her in a quiet voice. Garrick turned back to Clive. “I have more than I deserve.” He got into the carriage before Clive could ask another question or demand a true answer to the question.

  It was complicated. Sometimes he was happy, mostly when Nora smiled at him, even better if she was nude. He’d only recently learned to accept his disability. He’d learn to accept what Nora was willing to give him and ask for no more than that.

  Surely, then he would happy. Surely.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 7

  * * *

  It was their first meal as a family. Miriam had been quiet after leaving Meri’s home, but once she’d seen the room Garrick had prepared for her, she’d brightened significantly. The room had been a surprise for Nora as well since Garrick had told her not to look until Miriam could join them.

  Done in soft pinks and white, the room had been designed with not only Miriam in mind but Monica as well. The doll had her own home and a replica of almost everything that was given to Miriam down to matching brushes and combs.

  And there on Miriam’s bed had been a friend for Monica, a doll with dark curls and bright green eyes. Miriam had wept and jumped and thanked her new papa with a hundred kisses before she ran around the room with her dolls and showed them their new place.

  Nora and Garrick had sat in the room for an hour while Miriam took everything in. She’d yet to name her new doll, but she and Monica had been allowed to join the family at the evening meal.

  “Fork,” Miriam said as she pointed to the silverware in question.

  “Fork,” Garrick repeated, his voice relaxed. A small smile was on his face.

  “Spoon.”

  “Spoon.”

  “Miriam,” Nora said. “Garrick knows how to speak.”

  Miriam looked at her. “I know, but…” She glanced over at Garrick and then down at her plate. “Yes, Mama.”

  Nora frowned. “What?”

  Miriam shook her head.

  Nora turned to Garrick. “What’s going on?”

  Garrick was no longer smiling. “Nothing.”

  She glared. “Please, don’t keep secrets from me. What is happening?”

  He sighed. “You know I speak better when I am less anxious.”

  She nodded. “I know. You speak to me whenever you’re calm.”

  “I am usually calm around Miriam.”

  Nora's heart raced. “You mean, you speak without issue around Miriam?”

  “And Clive. Whenever we are alone and nothing terrible is taking place.”

  She hadn’t even known that to be possible. “But not with me?” She thought about the time she pulled Miriam to the side and asked her what she and Garrick had been doing in Johanna’s hallway. The two had been having a conversation. She’d seen Garrick’s lips moving and had wondered. Now she understood why Miriam didn’t bother learning to sign. She didn’t need to.

  He gave no reply.

  “You make him nervous, Mama,” Miriam said as she busied herself with her meal. She had no idea of the magnitude of her words.

  “I make you nervous?” Nora asked her husband.

  Garrick shrugged.

  “Wha
t does that mean?” Nora asked him.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps, I am anxious around you.”

  Nora opened her mouth and then closed it. She looked at Miriam. She was watching them, but the confusion on her face said she didn’t know what Garrick had just said. Perhaps, it was good that her daughter hadn’t bothered to learn to sign.

  Nora couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her husband could speak to others but not her. Why was he so troubled when they were together? She’d seen him relax. When he said two or three words to her, Nora had thought herself special. She’d thought she was getting Garrick’s best, but apparently not.

  With Miriam— and Clive— he didn’t even stutter.

  “Is it something I did?” she asked him silently.

  He shrugged and then reached out and took her hand. He was forced to take his hand back in order to sign. It didn’t escape her notice that he’d not have had to if he would relax around her. “Don’t worry about it. We can talk like this.”

  But now that she knew he could give more, she wanted more. “You should try speaking around me.”

  “I do.”

  Well, clearly he didn’t try hard enough.

  She turned away and tried to finish the meal as pleasantly as possible, but she couldn’t fight the feeling that whatever issue rested between them had nothing to do with Garrick and everything to do with her. Why was he less nervous around Miriam and Clive? Why was he nervous around her at all?

  It was unfair. She was his wife.

  This had to be fixed.

  * * *

  The moment Garrick had Nora alone in her room, he knew what was coming.

  “No signing tonight,” she declared. “I want you to speak to me.”

  “That’s not how it works,” he told her.

  Nora placed her hands on her hips. “Try.”

  Anger began to make his chest burn, but he tried to calm it with the understanding of how Nora must feel. He could speak to Miriam. She’d vowed not to tell anyone, just as Clive had, yet he understood her wish to make it possible with her mother. Nora was his wife. Around her, he should be able to speak, but he wasn’t. He didn’t know what tied his lips around her. He’d tried.

  Yet her very command brought back all the hundreds of times someone else had said as much to him. Around his parents, Garrick had had no issue speaking, but once they left the house, it fell silent. He’d been declared rude and shy around Society. He’d found it easier to sign with others, but over and over again, his mother had asked him to try. Try and speak. Try and be normal. Try not to embarrass her. Try.

  He hated the word, the demand it had on him. “I have tried. I—”

  Nora looked away. “I want to hear you speak.”

  Garrick pressed his lips together. Usually, he would touch her and force her eyes upon him, but tonight… He shook his head and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  He’d just closed the door to his own room when it reopened.

  “What are you doing?” Nora asked.

  Since he couldn’t speak and she refused to watch him sign, he began to strip out of his jacket with his back turned to her.

  “Are you ignoring me?”

  He sat and began to remove his boots.

  Nora crouched before him, placed her hands on his knees, and met his eyes. “Forcing you isn’t helping the situation, is it?”

  He grunted and tried once again to remove his boots, but Nora brushed his hands away.

  “Allow me. I want you to relax.”

  “This is not how it works.” He knew what she wanted. If she thought to lull him into a state of rest in order to get him to speak, she would be nothing but disappointed.

  “Let me.” Her eyes pleaded. “Whatever is making you nervous, it clearly has to do with me.”

  He looked resigned and leaned back in the chair. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

  “What do you mean? Miriam is my daughter.” She yanked one boot off and then the other. “Eventually, she’d have told me.” She didn’t sound sure, however.

  “Knowing does no good. It only puts stress on us.”

  “Then I will have to remove that stress.” She stood. “Stand up.”

  Wearily, Garrick did as she instructed. She took off his cravat. Then he watched as her slim fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. Every accidental brush of her skin against his chest was like fire to his loins.

  Slowly, she slipped his shirt off. Purposefully, and with expertise, she caressed his shoulders and lowered the garment down to the floor. By the time his upper body was fully exposed, he was also fully aroused.

  Her hands trailed down to the front of his trousers. She looked up at him at him through her lashes. “Are you relaxed?”

  He was far from relaxed. He swallowed as her fingers moved to the back of his neck and through his hair.

  “Relax,” she whispered.

  He couldn’t. He didn’t even bother to try. Instead, he lifted his wife and took her to bed. Because this was his. Her body was his. It was what she offered in their arrangement, and he would not deny himself such glorious pleasure.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  4 8

  * * *

  “Where did you go?” Nora kissed him again for good measure, but also because she enjoyed doing it. She found Garrick undeniably delicious. She rested in his arms as their mouths continuously sought one another out.

  Garrick’s arms were around her, making it impossible for him to sign and touch her at the same time.

  And he seemed quite intent on touching her.

  It was far earlier in the morning than Nora would usually wake. The sun had yet to peak from beyond the horizon. Only the softest brush of a blue glow pressed against the darkness.

  Yet she and Garrick had been up for some time. He’d woken her an hour earlier with soft kisses and rough hands. In seconds, she’d been all his for the taking.

  And then she’d taken herself, draining her mighty husband of all his strength before she’d asked the question that pressed upon her mind.

  He’d left sometime during the night. She’d felt the coolness of empty sheets.

  “To… visit ssssomeone.”

  “Who?” She ran her finger over his collarbone.

  He frowned. “Not here.”

  “What?”

  “Not h-him. Not here. Never in b-bed.”

  She frowned. “Him?”

  “Van…” He said no more, not because he couldn’t, but because he didn’t want to say his name. Van Dero. They’d not discuss him in bed, Garrick had decreed. Nora agreed. Their bed would remain sacred and without the worries of things beyond the sheets.

  She understood. She wanted to ask more. She wanted to know if the man was still alive. Instead, she kissed Garrick and sunk her teeth into his lower lip.

  He groaned.

  She pulled away. “Are you relaxed?”

  “Yes,” he replied in a sleepy idle voice. He would likely return to sleep any moment now. She would as well. She was extremely exhausted.

  “Say something to me,” she whispered.

  He smiled. His eyes remained closed. “What... d-do you want... to hear?”

  Nora’s heart raced. She’d never heard him string so many words together. “Anything.” She rubbed her legs against his. He was so solid compared to her. The contrast felt wonderful. He was also scarred. The marks of whips were on his back, legs, and arms. She knew where they’d come from. She didn’t want to talk about them or the person who’d caused her husband pain. She only cared for his pleasure. “Tell me anything.”

  He opened his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

  She smiled. “So are you. You’re beyond beautiful. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  He glanced away. His face colored. Was he nervous again? Had she ruined the moment? He looked so vulnerable. “I… c-can’t.”

  She placed a finger over his lips. “It’s all right. We’ve years.” After thinking about ho
w she’d treated him earlier, she was certain her feelings of rejection had been misplaced. Garrick wanted her. He’d come after her when she’d left Kent’s office. And he was hers. He bore the ring, the mark of their union. “We have at least a hundred more years together. There’s no rush.” She was actually glad to know he could speak, and that Miriam was special to him.

  He looked at her and tightened his arms around her back. “A h-hundred years?”

  “At least.” She wanted that amount of time with him, that amount of happiness.

  His eyes darkened. “At least.” He turned them and rose over her. She touched him everywhere, unable to believe such a mighty creature could be tamed to be hers.

  “I like that.” He got down on his elbows and began to play with the hair his hands could reach. All the while, his gaze remained on her.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. “What?”

  “Your eyes.” He took a deep breath. “That look.”

  “What look?”

  He grinned lazily. “Possessive.”

  She smiled. “Well, you are mine, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “Yes.” Then he closed his eyes.

  She grabbed his head and forced him down, placing him against her chest.

  “I have to move,” he said. “I’ll c-crush you.”

  “Don’t move.” She rubbed his arms. “Stay. I like it.” His hard form was better than any blanket she’d ever had.

  He released a sigh and then she felt his full weight drop onto her. She loved it.

  She loved him.

  She wondered if telling him would help him speak to her but decided against it. What if he thought she’d only said it because she wanted him to talk to her? She’d told him that he would ruin her, and he had. He’d given her everything. She had to find a way to thank him.

  It was the last thing she recalled thinking before she fell asleep.

  * * *

  “I’m glad you decided to come.”