The scent of flowers and crisp winter air hung in her soft riotous curls. He breathed deep and held the memory. He would need pleasantries to hold on to with the horrors that were to come.
She might have read his mind. “Do you think they will hurt you?”
Releasing her, he stepped back. “Yes. They will try to gain information about English agents. They must find a way to make their ignorance of my treachery worthwhile. The food and wine may hold them off until morning. Perhaps a little longer with the effects of the drink lingering. You must not give the impression you care overmuch for me. That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Faith’s eyes softened and she cupped his cheek. “I care about what happens to you, Nick. I would not have lured you here, if I didn’t care. I wish I’d never done any of this. It is my fault they captured you with no means to defend yourself. Not even a proper footman to whack one of them over the head.”
“None of this is your doing. They would have gotten to me eventually regardless. In a few days, MacGruder will send for help and you will be rescued. Or they may just leave here once they have what they want from me.” Nick’s sigh was filled with regret. It wasn’t really a surprise that his life had come to this, but it was still disappointing. He would have liked to see what life with Faith might have been. Never dull, he was sure of that.
Her hands were fisted at her hips again. “Are you resigned to your own death then? Have you no intention of fighting back?”
“I will do all that I can to stay alive, my lady.” He caressed her cheek and the soft skin along the side of her neck. “I am quite motivated to find out all there is to know about a certain Wallflower.”
“Just a few days ago you wanted nothing to do with me. Now your life is in danger and I’m to believe your feelings have changed.” Curiosity laced her words and she leaned into his touch, cocking her head and gazing up at him.
Lord, he wanted her. “I don’t believe my feelings have changed since the moment I vexed you at the ball where I first set eyes on you. That is not to say, you didn’t make me exceedingly angry and wary about our contract. However, my trepidation was comforted by your honest explanation for it all. I never guessed what you had been through and am ashamed for not having asked rather than reacting so zealously.”
Sensing his hesitation, she prodded. “And?”
Nick kissed her forehead and kept his cheek on her soft flesh a moment longer. “And I was terrified that I didn’t deserve you, and as these last few hours have proved, I was correct in that.”
“I don’t see that.” She leaned in and let her curvaceous body mold to his.
How he had come to need so much from anyone in so short a time, he didn’t know, but he needed more from her. For so many years he needed nothing and no one but himself and his wits. Now, this slip of a woman ruled his head and his heart. “What do you see?”
“I see a man who did what was necessary in war and his conscience won’t let him rest. If you felt nothing about your actions, Nick, it would be far worse. That would mean you had lost your sense of right and wrong. I imagine it is a difficult thing to learn throughout your youth that it is wrong and a sin to harm another, and then be thrust into war where you are ordered to do just that. There must be many men suffering with this struggle to balance the two once they no longer have a war to fight.”
“Are you always so empathetic, Faith?” Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her again and rubbed the chill of the damp cellar from her arms and back. Lord, she fit against him perfectly with every curve pressing in all the right places.
Snuggling into him, she wrapped her arms around his back. “I suppose I have a habit of looking at things from several sides. I could even see Mary Yates’s point of view for a long time.”
Happy to change the subject and keep her warmth pressed to him, Nick asked, “How could you make her mockery of you and the others right?”
“Not right so much as understandable. Mary’s morals are skewed by years of bad parenting, but she found a place at the Wormbattle School that was elevated and important. When Aurora, Poppy, Mercy, and I arrived, already a strong force united, she was threatened and lashed out. It was as if we had cornered a tiger.”
Nick was not as forgiving. “And how do you explain away Mary’s behavior toward Geb?” Despite not agreeing with her, he could spend a lifetime holding her close and breathing in her warm floral scent.
Faith’s spine went rigid. “That is unforgivable. She, her parents, and the rest of those fops, should be ashamed. Unfortunately, they don’t have the mental capacity to see the error of their ways. Mr. Arafa is ten times the person of any of them, but they see only his differences and find them abhorrent. It is pure ignorance that leads to such hate.”
“I noticed that Rhys, Poppy, and yourself treated Geb as an equal.” Pride swelled inside Nick as it had the night of Geb’s dinner party.
She pushed away and stared up at him, shocked. “Of course. If we didn’t like someone, we wouldn’t accept an invitation to his home. Besides, our regard is not dependent on either finances or the color of a man’s skin. Wallflowers know about being excluded and would never be the cause of that kind of harm.”
Drawing her close again, his admiration grew tenfold. “I’m liking Wallflowers more and more.”
A long yawn drew her body tight before she relaxed. “It has been quite a day.”
Nick took off his coat and spread it on the floor by the wall. He drew her down to sit atop the thick velvet and sat beside her. “You will need your sleep, Faith.”
She rested her head on his chest as he wrapped his hand around her shoulder. She sighed against him. “Won’t you be cold without your coat?”
“I will be fine. Rest now. Tomorrow will be another long day.” He hid his shudder over the horrors he suspected would befall him in the next few days, and reveled in the softness of her body against his.
“I suppose wishing we could just stay like this forever is childish.” She closed her eyes.
“No.” He kissed the crown of her head and sent up a prayer that she would not suffer for his sins. “It is never foolish to wish, Faith.”
Chapter 8
Faith had been grateful for the candle and bread when Charles Schulmeister and Jane arrived in the morning. Her stomach grumbled, but she refused to eat the last two pieces. Charles had taken Nick away when he and Jane had brought her food. If they didn’t feed Nick, she wanted to have something for him.
It had been hours or maybe it was days. There was only the burning down of the candles to mark the time. The six-hour candles told her she’d been alone for nearly twelve hours, but she would have sworn it was twice that long.
Shuddering at the thought of what they could be doing to Nick for twelve hours, she prayed he was still alive. He had to be. This was all her fault. If he were killed or even damaged, she would be to blame. She’d not thought about his safety when she made her elaborate plan to bring him to Parvus. She’d known her own fate could be total ruin, but it had not occurred to her that Nick might have enemies who would love to find him alone, unarmed and without friends.
She closed her eyes. There was no way for her to know such a thing. Still, how would she live if she lost him? A tear escaped and she brushed it away.
A clink of keys forced her to sit up and await whatever fate might have in store. A shadowed figure approached. Faith didn’t recognize the gait or shape of the man. She pressed against the wall.
“My lady, don’t be afraid. It is Jacob MacGruder. I’ve come to take you out of here.” There was tenderness in his whispered Scottish accent. His haggard, wrinkled face shone in the light. Bright eyes stared at her as he offered his hand to help her up.
Faith’s legs ached from disuse, but she pushed to her feet. Relief spread through her along with gratitude. “And the others. Are they safe?” MacGruder shook his head and put his finger to his
lips. He glanced nervously back at the door. “I can’t get to the servants and they have His Grace on the main floor.”
Faith stopped. Her feet were rooted to the ground while panic welled up inside her gut. Despite the churning inside her, she kept her voice low. “I’m not leaving them behind. They told Jane and the others that they would kill me if they tried to run. What will happen to them if I go?”
“His Grace would want you safe. I can get you out. I wish I could take them all away, but I can’t, my lady. You must come now.” He pulled her forward.
Ripping out of his grip, Faith stood her ground. “I cannot leave them to die while I am rescued. Go and fetch the magistrate, Mr. MacGruder.”
His gaze shifted to the open door. “The magistrate went to London. I can’t get word to him quick enough to help; besides, he’s a bit of a dimwit. I can get you out and we must go before they discover I’ve come back.”
“Then fetch some local men to join the rescue.” She searched her mind for some way out for all.
MacGruder shook his head. “There is no one who will risk their neck for a man they don’t know. His Grace only visits rarely and has spent no time in town. I’m willing to take the risk, but no one else will. Come now, miss. You must come quickly.” He reached for her arm.
Backing away, Faith sat on the coat Nick had left for her comfort. “If I go, they will kill someone as an example. It will likely be the boy, Jamie. I cannot leave. I will not leave Nick to die while I am saved. I could not live with myself. I would prefer death to a life of utter regret.”
He turned his head up to the ceiling, and gave a desperate whisper. “Miss.”
“Ride to Aaru, fast as you can. Tell Mr. Arafa what is happening. Pray we survive long enough.” She stared at the groundskeeper, heart pounding.
His shoulders slumped. “You are a special lass. I’ll give you that.” He shook his head. “Stay alive or he’ll never forgive me, and he’s going to be mighty furious with you as well.”
She nodded.
Still shaking his head, MacGruder left, locking the door behind him.
Faith closed her eyes to pray that he made it out of the house undetected. He would be three days to Aaru and then at least that long to return, maybe more with soldiers. She slumped down to lie on the coat. It smelled of Nick and she breathed deep, letting that bit of him comfort her.
Opening her eyes revealed nothing. The cellar was thrown into total darkness as the candle guttered out while she had prayed. She closed her eyes again and hoped Nick was still alive.
Unable to bear the darkness with her eyes open, she kept them shut when the key sounded in the lock. When the hinges creaked, she risked opening her eyes.
Faith blinked until her vision cleared and adjusted to the candlelight from the three-tiered candelabra in Jane’s hand.
Tears welled in Jane’s eyes and glinted in the flames.
“I don’t have all night, girl.” Charles’s thick accent sounded from the steps.
Jane rushed in and quickly placed one of her candles in the cellar lamp. She blocked the view of the door and knelt in front of Faith with a basket. “I’ve put a few bits of meat and cheese in, my lady.” She pulled something wrapped in a rag from her pocket and tucked it in the side of the basket. Her tears spilled over.
“Thank you, Jane.”
Behind Jane, the sound of moaning forced Faith to return her gaze to the door.
Charles deposited Nick on the floor with a thud and a loud groan. “You should just tell them what they want to know, Nicholas. It would go easier for you. They would still kill you, but you wouldn’t suffer so. I hate to see you tortured like this.”
Stumbling to her feet, Faith tried to reach Nick.
Jane gripped her arm and righted her. “Slowly, my lady. It has been many hours since you’ve eaten and you are weak.”
Pure hatred for the round-faced Austrian burned through Faith.
Nick’s face was bloody and swollen. Blood stained his white blouse and his back heaved with the exertion of breathing.
Charles took a step back at her glare. “The boy is bringing water so you can clean him up, and ale for drinking. He is stubborn. If he would give them the information, it would go much better for him.”
Gently, Faith put her arm around Nick but kept her stare on Charles. “You may save your explanations, sir. They are wasted on me.”
Jamie arrived with a bucket of water in one hand and a carafe of ale in the other. The water sloshed over the side, but he was careful to ease the carafe down without incident.
His eyes were red rimmed.
“Are they kind to you, Jamie?” Faith didn’t know what she would do if those animals had hurt a boy. She might not be able to stop herself from charging at the one in her presence.
“Yes, my lady. I played with Rumple until he fell asleep and I’ve been helping Jane and Thea in the kitchen.” The boy glanced warily at Nick, who attempted a smile, but it was more grimace.
“It’s okay,” Nick ground out. “My lady will clean me up and I’ll be almost good as new. It looks far worse than it is, Jamie.”
Faith hoped it was true, but suspected the reassurance was for the boy’s sake alone. “That’s right, Jamie. You just do as you’re told and all will be well.”
Charles nodded. “I will protect them as much as I can, Lady Faith. I’m not a monster.”
Standing despite her stiff joints and muscles, Faith narrowed her gaze at him. “A man who stands by while others do terrible things is still a monster, monsieur or herr, or however you think you should be addressed. Your duplicity in all things disgusts me.”
Shame washed over Charles’s face before he straightened his shoulders, turned and walked out. “Come. If you don’t want to be locked in with them, come.”
Jane squeezed Faith’s arm, took hold of Jamie’s hand, and rushed out the door.
A moment later the heavy door slammed and the key turned in the lock.
With as little pressure as possible, she cradled Nick’s face and turned it up to hers. Swollen and covered in blood, she couldn’t tell how bad his injuries were. “Do you think you can help me get you over to sit against the wall?”
It was barely a nod, and even that made him grimace, but he looped his arm around her shoulders and pushed to his feet. It was only a few steps to reach the spot that Faith had made hers while she waited. The lamp sat a few feet away, and once she’d helped him sit, she moved the light closer. Bringing the water bucket close, she knelt beside him. “Do you think anything is broken?”
“No, sweetheart. It really does look worse than it is.” His voice was little more than a croak.
She handed him the carafe. “Drink.”
Two sips and he put the ale down.
Remembering the rag that Jane had tucked in the food basket, Faith pulled it free. Inside were two extra candles. She would see that Jane had a raise in wages when they got home. The thought of the candle going out again terrified her. She put the extra candle in back of some wine casks and returned to Nick with the rag.
Gently, she wiped away the blood around his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue or cheek, as she found no cut to account for the bleeding. Once his chin and neck were clean, she pushed back his matted hair and got her first good look at his eyes. The right was completely swelled closed with a gash above the brow.
He peered at her through the slit in his left eye. “I must be quite a sight.”
“You have looked better, but I think your face will heal.” She dabbed at the cut, which had stopped bleeding and didn’t appear too deep. The water was cool and would do the swelling good as well. “What did they want to know?”
Nick leaned his cheek into her hand. “Just things about what the English are up to.”
Satisfied that she’d done all she could for his face, she put the rag in the bucket, s
queezed the excess water out, and handed him the cloth. “Hold this to your eye while I see from where else you are bleeding. Do you know such things?”
He did as he was told and sighed as the cold cloth pressed to his turgid eye. “I know some, but I can’t tell them. You understand that, don’t you, Faith?”
“I understand. Besides, once you told them, they would have no reason to keep you alive.” She met his gaze. “I’m very keen on you remaining among the living through this ordeal, Nick.”
His attempt at a smile failed, but she appreciated the effort. “I shall do my best to not disappoint you.”
“See that you do.” She lifted the hem of his blouse, tugging it free from his breeches and easing it up his bruised torso. She had to gentle him away from the wall in order to get the fabric over his head. An angry blue bruise marred his ribs and another near his collarbone, but nothing to account for the blood. “I can’t find a wound, Nick. How did your shirt get stained?”
“That’s Fouché’s blood. He got too close and I butted him with my head. I may have broken that perfect nose of his.” His voice, though still scratchy, filled with amusement.
Taking back the rag, she washed away the sweat from his chest, back, and arms. Finished, she sat back and plunked the cloth in the bucket. “I wish there was more I could do for you.”
Reaching out, he took her hand and pulled her to sit next to him. Slowly, he eased down until his head rested in her lap. “You are an excellent nurse, Faith. I thank you.” He wrapped an arm around her thigh and cuddled her.
Faith toyed with the hair at his neck and leaned back. Mr. MacGruder was right about how furious Nick would be if he knew she’d refused to be rescued. She decided to keep it to herself for the time being. He was in enough pain.
If her guess was correct, it was suppertime abovestairs and Jane would be sent for more wine soon. Reaching in the basket, she pulled out a piece of bread. “Do you think you might eat something?”
With a groan, he forced himself back to sitting, picked up his shirt and made several more pained noises as he pulled the cloth back over his head. “If I’m going to obey your orders, I suppose I’ll have to try. But may I reserve the right to resume my previous position after our meal?”
Misleading a Duke Page 8
