by welis
Maeve appeared at her side, taking her hand and guiding her from the window. Tearing her gaze away from the heartwarming sight of uncle and niece, she went to the tub, her senses flooded with the oils used to scent the steaming water. Her muscles began unwinding before she even stepped in, the soothing smell of lavender going a long way to calm her rattled nerves.
The maid helped her out of her dressing gown, and if she noticed the light welts still marring Daphne’s skin, she did not remark on them. She did not say anything at all as she guided her into the tub, helping douse her hair with the hot, fragrant water.
Daphne sighed with relief, sinking against the back of the tub and closing her eyes. She submitted to Maeve’s ministrations, her muscles unwinding with the help of the hot water and the maid’s deft hands scrubbing her skin. She seemed content to work in silence, allowing Daphne to enjoy the bath, humming some off-key tune while she washed and rinsed her hair and gently cleansed her face with a soft cloth.
She did not speak until she had settled behind Daphne to begin running a comb through the snarled tangles of her wet hair.
“I am glad you came when you did, my lady,” she murmured, keeping her voice low as if loath to disturb Daphne’s peace. “The Master would never have admitted it … but I believe he needed you.”
She opened her eyes and stared across the room, at the window she’d just been sitting at, knowing Adam was on the other side, even though she could no longer see him.
“What on earth would give you that idea?” she murmured.
She had a feeling that her definition of ‘need’ did not align with Maeve’s. Sure, he needed her as a tool to use against her brother. What else was there?
“You’re still coming to know him the way the rest of us do,” the maid replied while carefully dragging the comb through Daphne’s hair. “But haven’t you ever noticed the way he wants to keep you close when things go sour? Last night, I feared the sort of state it’d put him in to see Lady Olivia so badly hurt. You being here … well, I’m certain it is responsible for his fair mood this morning.”
Daphne snorted, sitting up and turning her body so that she looked Maeve in the eye. “Or perhaps it has more to do with him having discovered yet another way to strike out at my brother through me.”
Maeve’s gaze held a heavy measure of pity as she set the comb aside and sighed. “You have to understand … men like the Master … they aren’t like the others. They are hard and rough because they have to be, because it’s the only way to survive when everyone you’ve ever loved dies, or the people you want to love you give you only scorn. And then, you come along and make him feel things. Things he might not want to feel, but he can’t help himself. He’s been miserable since you left Dunnottar, my lady, you must believe me.”
“So, he comes here to make me as miserable as he is?” Daphne challenged. “Is that it?”
The maid shook her head, eyes wide and pleading, as if she needed Daphne to understand. “You are only miserable because you keep fighting him. If you would only give him—”
“Give him what?” she interrupted, her voice rising in pitch and volume. “The few parts of me that are left, so he can destroy those, too? My heart, so that he can crush it in his fist? He has made his choice, Maeve. I …”
She deflated, the indignation leaving her body as quickly as it had built. Her heart sank into the pit of her gut.
“You are right,” she whispered. “Maybe he cannot help himself where I am concerned … and I am of the same notion when it comes to him. But he can never give me the things I would want from him; not while he is still so determined to pursue Bertram’s downfall. Don’t you understand? I cannot allow myself to love him … not when loving him will surely be the end of me.”
Maeve furrowed her brow, her expression of sadness warring with that of disappointment. She studied Daphne in silence for a long while before nodding and heaving another labored sigh.
“Perhaps you are right,” she said, seeming resigned to accept Daphne’s words. “I just hoped … I thought … Well, it does not matter what I thought, does it? Forget I mentioned any of it to you, my lady.”
Daphne frowned as Maeve went back to work, falling silent again and avoiding eye contact as she helped her from the tub and prepared her to get dressed.
What did the woman expect her to do? Confess her love for a man who would destroy her to gain his own ends? Didn’t Maeve understand that Adam had too much power over her? The power to tear her open and expose all her most vulnerable parts before tossing her aside and leaving her bleeding to death from the wounds he’d inflicted. She would never survive him.
After the maid had finished dressing her, she left the room, murmuring something about going to tend to Olivia before disappearing through the door connecting the two suites.
Unwilling to remain trapped in this room with thoughts that would only drag her into a dudgeon, Daphne left in search of Adam. Avoiding him would only make things worse, and if she confronted him while he was still in a good mood, perhaps she could reason with him. Surely, he could not mean to keep her here forever. At some point, he would have to return Olivia and Serena to Dunnottar. What, then, would he do with her?
She followed the sound of voices down two flights of steps, finding Adam and Serena breezing down the corridor, having just come in from the courtyard. He hung back while the little girl rushed at her with an excited squeal.
“Daphne!” Serena exclaimed, throwing herself at Daphne’s legs and wrapping her arms around them. “Uncle Adam said we had to be quiet while you were resting. We did not wake you, did we?”
Reaching down to stroke a stray lock of auburn hair back from the girl’s face, Daphne smiled. “Of course not, sweetling. I’ve been awake for some time now. Are you having a fun time with your uncle?”
Serena peered up at her with wide, guileless brown eyes so like her mother’s, it was heartbreaking. “Oh, yes. We’ve just come from playing outside. He says you used to live in this house and can show me where the toys are kept?”
She dared a glance at Adam, who simply stood looking on with amusement dancing in his eyes. Staring back down at her little niece, she nodded.
“Of course I can,” she replied. “Give me a moment to have a word with your uncle first.”
Serena nodded and released her, hopping off down the hall, then turning and coming back again. Daphne chuckled when she realized the girl followed the pattern of the rug, leaping over the gold pieces and trying to land her feet on blue.
Her amusement faded as she looked up to find Adam coming toward her, his hair a hopeless mess and his clothes rumpled from his romp outdoors. His sly smile made her belly quiver and her legs grow weak. Just as she had the first time he’d ever walked toward her, she began to feel like prey being stalked before the kill.
Would there ever be a time he could not make her feel this way?
“Good afternoon, little dove,” he murmured, grasping the back of her neck and kissing her forehead. “I see you found your belongings. Good.”
She tensed in his hold, trying in vain to rear away from him. He tightened his hold, sending tremors down her spine and rendering her motionless. He flashed a smile, pointedly glancing from her to Serena and back again.
“Now, now,” he murmured, lowering his head so his mouth brushed her ear. “We mustn’t make a scene in front of our niece.”
“Are you mad?” she hissed, keeping her voice low so Serena could not hear them. “You cannot keep me prisoner here, Adam.”
He nuzzled the side of her neck, tickling her with a night’s worth of stubble. Inhaling, he drew in her scent, then released his breath on a sigh that sent goose bumps prickling along her skin.
“Aye, little dove … I am mad,” he whispered. “Or haven’t you puzzled it out by now? I want you, and I am keeping you. Best you grow used to the idea and make things easier on yourself, eh?”
Shaking her head, she winced when he tightened his grip even more, impeding her
from denying him. “You cannot watch me every hour of every day. I can find a way if I wish.”
He leaned back enough to look her in the eye and chuckled, the green flecks in his irises dancing with mirth. “Every entrance and exit of the house are guarded by footmen, all with express instructions to prevent you from leaving unless you are in my company. So, you see, little dove … I do not need to keep constant watch over you.”
She glanced over his shoulder toward the door leading to the courtyard, where she spotted the evidence of his threat. James, one of the footmen who had come with the household, stood near the door at perfect attention, his gaze fixated straight ahead as if he could not hear or see them. She had no doubt she’d find the same at the front door, as well as any of the servants’ entrances.
“Now,” he continued. “If you wish to spar with me later, I am more than up to the task, but for now, perhaps you ought to take advantage of Serena’s nearness and spend some time with her this afternoon. She is so looking forward to being shown the nursery.”
Releasing her, he continued down the hall, putting her at his back. Passing Serena on his way, he patted her head and instructed her to ‘behave for Daphne,’ before disappearing up the stairs.
She clenched her teeth as she watched him leave, seized with the urge to go after him, pummel him with her fists and demand to be let out of this house.
However, she knew Adam well enough to realize it would gain her nothing … except more of the type of punishment he’d subjected her to last night. Even as her body reacted at the thought of such delicious torment, she had hardly recovered from the previous evening. Besides, she needed to keep her head and be rational about this. She would bide her time and find a way to be free of him.
And then what? Where would she go to escape him? Was there any place she could go where he could not find her?
The uncertainties made her heart sink; yet, she forced a smile and offered Serena her hand, injecting cheer into her voice. One step at a time, she would puzzle it out. She would find a way to break free, even if it killed her … because it would surely kill her to remain, her heart so open and vulnerable to a man who had no notion what to do with it.
CHAPTER TEN
dam leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows against his knees as he watched his sister shiver and writhe on the bed. He’d taken turns with Niall throughout the day, sitting with Olivia, spooning broth down her throat when they could, coaxing her into taking sips of water. But, mostly, their vigil consisted of watching her suffer, sitting helplessly by while she fought off the effects of withdrawal from the laudanum her body craved. He had suggested tapering off to smaller doses, slowly weaning her off the drug. However, Olivia had remained as lucid as she had been in months, insisting that she needed to do this her way.
He had no choice but to respect her decision, when she had been incapable of making any for herself in so long. As the sun began to set and evening approached, he stared at her sweat-dampened face and experienced a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, after all this time, she’d found the strength to fight her way back, to try to become herself again in whatever way she could.
Rising from where he sat, he edged toward the bed, sinking slowly onto the mattress beside her. She curled her body toward him, reaching out to clutch his shirt in a weak fist as she shuddered so hard, her teeth chattered noisily. Resting a hand on her head, he used his other to reach for the bowl on the bedside table. He lifted a scrap of linen from the cool water and wrung it out before bringing it to her forehead to mop away the sweat.
“Shh,” he crooned, gently moving her so her head lay in his lap. “I’ve got you, butterfly. It’s all right.”
She jerked violently against him, but he went on wiping her face, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. Her eyes swiveled until she gazed up at him, and despite her dilated pupils, they were clearer than he’d seen them in some time. He forced a smile and held on to her, doing his best to help her lie still. She’d been unable to rest with the shudders wracking her so badly.
“T-talk t-to me,” she managed between clatters of her teeth.
He scowled, never having been one for frivolous conversation. “About what?”
She laughed, the sound weak and shaky from how hard she trembled. “A-anything … d-distract m-me.”
Nodding, he gazed off across the room, still absently stroking her hair. “Very well. Serena seems to like it here. She has been having a wonderful time exploring the house with Daphne. So, you do not need to worry about her lingering outside your door.”
She gave a jerky nod. “D-Daphne? B-Bertram’s sister?”
His brow furrowed when he gazed down at her, wondering when she’d puzzled that out. She hadn’t been in her right frame of mind the few times she’d encountered Daphne at Dunnottar, and he and Niall had done their best to keep them separated.
She snorted sarcastically and nudged him with a trembling elbow. “Sh-she looks j-just like S-Serena … it w-wasn’t h-hard to w-work out.”
Adam sighed. “Forgive me, butterfly. I did not think you’d understand. Daphne … she came to Dunnottar seeking answers, and I exploited her to retaliate against Bertram. To repay him for what he did to you.”
Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, her breath hitching when a particularly violent tremor rocked her. She calmed a bit and stared back up at him.
“And now?” she prodded, searching his gaze in that way she had done before all this had happened. The way that made him think she could read his innermost thoughts.
“Now, I want to keep her,” he admitted, looking off across the room to avoid her scrutiny.
Frustration curled his fist as he thought of his little dove, of the way she continued to challenge him, to try to force him to make a choice he’d rather not consider. He wanted what he wanted, and her response to his touch, to his nearness, told him she wanted it, too. Why, then, did she insist on pretending she wanted to be free, fighting to be away from him when he was one of few people who truly understood her? As of now, he had done everything he could think of to convince her to stay, and still, she’d spurned him.
Really, she’d left him no choice in the matter. She’d forced his hand, and now, he would act the monster and keep her caged. He did not care if she claimed to hate him for it … not when he could breathe a little easier knowing she was not out there alone, being preyed on by men who thought her an easy mark because of the rumors swirling about her. Better for her to remain with him than him being forced to follow her about, slitting the throat of any man who so much as glanced in her direction.
“Y-you always were p-possessive of the people you l-love,” Olivia said, drawing him out of his reverie.
He gazed back down at her with a sharp intake of breath. Despite the misery brought on by withdrawal, she gave him a rare smirk. It was too knowing.
“Love has naught to do with it,” he insisted. “I like having her in my bed, so she will be. That is the end of it.”
“Only, y-you c-came all the way to L-London for her,” she pointed out.
“I came to London for Bertram,” he snapped, annoyed at her for working him into a state when his mood had been so good. “She is the best way to strike out at him.”
Olivia shook her head, the motion jerky as she fought to control her own body. “L-let it go, H-Hart. Or y-you’ll d-die alone.”
Clenching his teeth, he choked down a snarl. The second person to say something to this effect to him, and that did not make it any easier to stomach … especially coming from his sister.
“I will die knowing I delivered justice for you and Serena,” he replied through clenched.
She closed her eyes and turned her head so she no longer looked at him. “N-not enough.”
Goddamn it, what did a man have to do to get some peace in a house with his name on the deed? He did not need Daphne begging him to put an end to things, and he certainly did not need his sister agreeing with her, trying to use guilt to cause him to bend.
He would stop when he was good and ready to stop.
The sound of a soft knock on the door drew his attention, and he bid the person to enter. The panel swung open to reveal Daphne, who balanced a heavy-looking tray in one hand. Stepping into the room, she pushed the door closed with her foot, then took hold of the tray with both hands and approached the bed.
“Niall is ensuring that Serena has her dinner, so I volunteered to bring this for you and Olivia,” she said, her voice soft as she drew near, resting the tray on the bedside table next to the bowl of water.
The tantalizing aroma of food made his stomach howl, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since that morning, too busy playing with Serena and then spending most of his day in this chamber.
“Thank you, little dove,” he murmured, letting his gaze travel over her.
It was rare for him to get to observe her in a restful state unless she was sleeping, because she always seemed to be in motion. Just now, her chignon had loosened, allowing thick coils of vibrant red hair to kiss the nape of her neck and wispy strands to lay against her forehead. The soft yellow morning gown she’d worn all day made her hair come alive with golden highlights, her eyes appearing larger and darker.
However, she was not looking at him, her gaze fixated on the prone form of Olivia in his lap. She’d fallen unconscious, but still trembled a bit in his hold.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, her brow creased with concern he could see was genuine.
Glancing down at Olivia, he shrugged. “She is sleeping for now, but it will not last. She rests in fits, awakening when the tremors become too much for her to ignore.”
Daphne nodded and took another step toward the bed, toward him. Her scent enveloped him, chasing away Olivia’s sweat and covering even the aroma of the steaming food.
