by welis
“Perhaps I could sit with her so you might eat,” she offered. “It has been a long day. I’m certain you are hungry.”
He was starving. Now that Olivia slept and could no longer pester him to talk to her, he could take a moment to see to his own needs.
“Aye,” he relented, gently maneuvering Olivia back against her pillows and rising to his feet.
While he retrieved the tray, leaving Olivia’s broth on the bedside table before settling into an armchair near the hearth, Daphne bent over his sister, touching her brow, smoothing stray hair back from her face.
“Her nightgown is damp with sweat,” she remarked as he took his first bite. “She needs changing, and so do the sheets.”
He gestured toward the bell cords nearby. “Ring for Maeve, and she will see to it.”
Flashing him a look over her shoulder, she shook her head. “I am here and do not mind. Just tell me where her things are.”
He used his fork to point at the trunk Maeve had brought from Dunnottar, watching with unguarded interest as she dug for a clean nightgown. Finding clean bed linens stacked on the washstand, she retrieved some and returned to the bed.
As she leaned over and began unbuttoning Olivia, he lowered his gaze, keeping it down to give his sister privacy. The twisting sensation of hunger in his stomach began to abate, and the tension in his muscles released a bit now that Daphne moved around in his peripheral vision. Something about knowing she was within arm’s reach brought him a sense of levity. He found much of the agitation he’d experienced since coming to London had eased now that he’d found a way to trap her with him, keep her close.
When he glanced up again, she had Olivia draped in a clean, dry night gown, and had begun deftly changing the sheets without jostling her too much. Within minutes, she had new sheets arranged beneath his sister, the old ones left in a pile on the floor. That finished, she went to the washstand and retrieved a comb. Settling in the same place he’d just occupied on the bed, she began combing Olivia’s hair, murmuring in a soothing voice.
“You are so brave for what you’ve decided to do, Olivia,” she said while running the comb through his sister’s dark locks. “I do not know if I could be strong enough to put myself through this. I am so proud of you, and I know Adam and Serena are, too.”
That foreign feeling was back in his chest, squeezing painfully and wreaking havoc on his senses. It felt as good as it hurt, leaving him with no notion how to feel about watching a Fairchild touch his sister and murmur kind words to her. In the depths of his mind, he realized it was unfair to lump Daphne in with her father, brother, and uncle. She was so unlike them—strong where they were weak, kind where they were vile, a pure, white dove ascending from a pit of monsters. In truth, she was a bit of a miracle. How had she managed to become such a wise, strong person with Bertram for a brother and Gilliam for a father?
He might never know, but chose not to question it. All those things were what drew him to her, what made him want to own and possess her.
“Serena is such a lovely girl,” she continued while he looked on. “I am happy to have met her. I want you to know that if there is ever anything I can do for her, or you, I am happy to. I … I want to help, Olivia. In any way I can.”
Despite the fact that his sister had been claimed by exhaustion, he wondered if she heard what was being said around her. Daphne certainly seemed to think she could, speaking to Olivia as if she could actually hear her.
Adam polished off his dinner, then stood, laying the tray on the chair he’d just occupied before approaching the bed. Daphne had stood to set the comb aside, so he came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her back against his body. She gasped, stiffening for a moment before relaxing. Her heart hammered against her ribs—he could feel it against the arm he used to anchor her in place. Turning his face in toward her neck, he buried his nose in the loose tendrils of her hair and inhaled, drawing in that scent, the essence of Daphne lingering under whatever soap she’d washed with that morning. It made the remaining tension in his body abate, and he sank against the warm curves of her welcoming body.
“How much longer will she suffer like this?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
He sighed against the curve of her neck. “A few days, I suppose. She has relied on laudanum for a long time, little dove. Her body will crave it until she either gives in or overcomes it.”
She nodded, then tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder. Her current state of passive acceptance did not fool him for a moment. He knew her far better than she realized … knew that she would play docile up until the moment it suited her to attempt escape. Of course, he would be prepared for such an eventuality. Prepared to chase her down and drag her back to where she belonged … to punish her for daring to think she could run from him.
He almost looked forward to it.
“I am happy to sit at her bedside with you,” she said, breaking the silence between them.
He grinned. “Are you? How generous of you to keep me company. Unless you are simply bored when I am not occupying the same room as you.”
She scoffed. “Do not flatter yourself.”
His smile only widened when she did not bother to deny it. Giving her a little squeeze, he then released her, not certain he could continue exercising control with her standing so close. He would rather not fuck her in a dark corner of the room his sister lay languishing in.
As he circled the bed to stand on its other side, Olivia began to move again, shivering and moaning in her sleep. He swore under his breath, edging close as the shudders grew stronger, rocking her from head to toe.
“My God,” Daphne whispered, pity lacing her voice as she leaned over the bed and touched Olivia. “The poor thing will never get any rest if this goes on.”
She gazed helplessly up at him, and he shook his head, having no notion himself what to do about any of it. He was tempted to go against Olivia’s wishes and give her a swallow of the drug she craved … just enough to put her to sleep, to ease her torment. But she’d never forgive him if he did.
“I have an idea,” Daphne said suddenly, eyes widening.
She hiked up her skirts and braced one knee on the bed, climbing on beside his sister. Looking back up at him, she motioned for him to do the same.
“Come on,” she urged when he did not respond fast enough for her liking. “If we use our bodies to compress her on either side, it might calm the tremors … keep her still enough for her to rest.”
He wrinkled his brow at the bizarre idea, but, for lack of anything better to do, he complied. As he lay on his side, Daphne took Olivia’s shoulders and turned her so that she lay on her side, facing Adam. Then, she slid closer, until her body pressed against Olivia’s from behind. Then, reaching over the slender form between them, she took his arm and pulled him closer, until Olivia lay sandwiched between them. His arm was long enough to enclose them both, so he braced it at Daphne’s back, pulling them both tighter against him. Daphne’s arm rested at his waist, draped over Olivia and completing the link.
To his surprise, after a few minutes of shivering, Olivia began to calm, sighing and sinking into the warm cocoon of the two bodies boxing her in. Glancing at Daphne over her head, he raised his eyebrows.
“Well done,” he offered. “How did you know it would work?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Do you remember the fever I told you about … the one that almost killed me when I was a girl?”
He nodded, recalling the story of how her brother had helped nurse her back to health. Her brother would then grow up to be a cad.
“Well, Mother and … and my brother,” she stammered. “I remember them doing this to me when the fever melted away and the chills came. I could not stop shaking, and it frightened me. They got into bed and held me like this, and I felt safe … my body went still, and I slept for hours.”
Sleep. It sounded like a fine idea. He had not slept much the night before, the turmoil of the evening
and all that had happened with Daphne weighing on his mind. With Olivia nestled beside him, Daphne in his hold, and Serena safe with Niall, he felt as if he might actually be able to sleep the entire night.
His eyelids grew heavy as he lay there watching her, raising the hand that rested at her back so that it cupped her face. Sighing, she closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling against his palm. It never ceased to amaze him how easily he could command her submission, make her lean into his touch when her mind ought to warn her to move away.
She fell asleep first, her eyelids drooping and then closing altogether, her breath slowing and deepening. Adam followed her, closing his eyes to the endearing sight of her in a deep sleep, her lips parted and her eyelids resting in perfect half-moon fans against her cheekbones.
When he opened his eyes again, hours had passed, and Niall was standing over them, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“What’s this, then?” he whispered, gesturing toward the two women sleeping beneath the stretch of his arm.
Adam rubbed at his bleary eyes and glanced around, finding himself engulfed by darkness. It must be quite early.
“Daphne’s idea,” he muttered. “It worked. Olivia slept through the night.”
Niall’s eyes widened in surprise, and he seemed torn between grudging respect for Daphne and the anger he’d held on to for as long as Adam had. He despised Daphne for the family she’d come from, but like Adam, he was going to have to learn that she was not like them. She had shown him that time and time again, and someday, Niall would have to see it for himself. He would have to accept that Daphne was his now, and he would not hear a word from anyone about letting her go.
“So, I s’pose ye’ve decided to keep her, then?” he accused, reading Adam’s thoughts so easily, it was uncanny.
“Aye,” he said, giving the butler a pointed look. One that reminded Niall how little he would appreciate any interference.
To his surprise, the man simply snorted, shaking his head. “Ye’re hopeless when it comes to her, ye know. Only person who doesn’t see that is you, Hart.”
Christ. Yet another person who thought him besotted. It was beginning to wear thin. The next person to make such a statement might find themselves on the other end of his fist.
“I’ll take her, now,” he added, pulling up an empty chair to the bedside. “You and yer lass go find your own bed.”
Grateful for the reprieve, and the chance to get Daphne in a bed without another person between them, he rolled off his side, then rounded to the other to retrieve Daphne. She made a little sound in the back of her throat, like a mewling kitten, when he lifted her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. Then, she sighed, nestling against him and burying her face in his shirt.
Trusting Niall to see to Olivia in his absence, he crossed to the door connecting the master suite to its neighbor and kicked it open, carrying her through. Maeve had been here, turning down the bedclothes and lighting a fire that had burned down to mere embers. He lay Daphne on top of the counterpane, taking a moment to quickly shovel coal into the hearth and bring the fire back to life. Then, he returned to her, stripping off his shirt as he approached the bed. He made quick work of his boots, then began trying to remove her clothing without waking her.
She whimpered in her sleep, writhing a bit when he began unbuttoning her gown, and he wondered if she dreamed of him tearing her clothes off, bending her to his will. God knew it was all he could think about. If not for the fact that she seemed exhausted, he might have awakened her to do as he pleased. He let her sleep instead, wanting her fully recovered before he took her again, his mind already filling with thoughts of all he wanted to do to her.
Maneuvering her beneath the bedclothes without a stitch of clothing on, he removed his breeches and followed her. His cock flared to life, pressing against the soft swell of her arse, and he flexed his hips, muffling a groan against the back of her shoulder. A few inches lower and a thrust of his hips, and he’d be inside her.
Still, he held back, simply drawing her tight into the shelter of his body and keeping her there. His hand rested on her flat belly, and he thought back to the night before, to the explosive moment he had neglected to pull from the warm haven of her cunt, choosing to spend his seed inside of her. He could not find it in himself to regret staking his claim … would regret it even less if she turned out to be pregnant with his child. It would be just one more thing binding her to him, ensuring she could never truly be free.
Tightening his grip on her, he was shocked to realize he actually wanted it to be true. He wanted a piece of him lodged inside of her, something she could not expel so easily. Perhaps then, she would be forced to accept her fate … to realize that he would keep her for as long as he wished, and if that turned out to be a very long time … well, it would be best for everyone involved.
In time, she’d be happy. He knew what to give her, what to do. She would come to accept what life with him could be, and everything would be as it should.
Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep, not rousing until she shook him awake hours later, declaring that they’d slept straight through breakfast and that it was now nearly noon.
He had not slept for so long in years.
Daphne spent the next few days resigning herself to life at Fairchild House with Adam. In truth, Olivia occupied so much of everyone’s time, she hardly had time to think beyond lending a hand, doing what she could to make the young woman comfortable. It had broken her heart to see Adam’s sister suffering, yet so resiliently fighting against the clutch of addiction to laudanum. She admired the girl for wanting something better, for needing more than what the numbness a bottle of potion could provide. And so, when she was not keeping Serena occupied in the nursery, she was helping mop Olivia’s bow, reading to her to help occupy her mind, changing her nightgowns and sheets, and helping feed her broth and water.
She noticed Niall eyeing her curiously when he came in and out of the room to take his time with her. Gone was the former animosity he’d once thrown her way, and in its place, she noticed an open curiosity. She mostly ignored him, not wanting to push him in any direction, and hoping that her actions alone would be enough to show him that she meant Olivia no harm. If she must be here, then she would do her part to help make Adam’s sister better … or, as well as she could be given the circumstances.
Some afternoons, she lay in bed with Adam, Olivia between them, caging her in to help her find stillness and rest. She often lay there, unable to sleep with Adam’s gaze intently set upon her, his gaze probing and pensive all at once. Not knowing what he might be thinking unnerved her, especially since she knew he would soon think of some way to retaliate against Bertram for what he’d done.
At night, he pulled her down into the darkness with him, reminding her of the tortuous bliss she could find in his arms. It took her back to Dunnottar, to those nights when she had surrendered to him, to her own base desires, bending to his will without a fight. He rewarded her well for it, reminding her of familiar pleasures, then teaching her new ones. She went to sleep each night thoroughly sated, sore in some places, covered in his fingerprints and bite marks … and so exhausted, she slept clear until morning, waking in his arms each day.
By week’s end, Olivia had begun to improve, the throes of her withdrawal not as constant as it had been. She begged to be allowed out of her room, so they took turns holding her arm and guiding her up and down the corridor, not wanting to push her body into too much activity too soon. Serena, noticing that her mother was out of bed, seemed happy to have time with Olivia, following her on her walks and chattering about the various things she’d done any given day.
Once Olivia was strong enough to manage the stairs, Daphne began taking her into the drawing room where the small collection of instruments had been stored. There, the young woman would happily lounge on a settee and watch while Adam began teaching Serena the basics of playing the pianoforte. He took her through the various scales and chords, displayin
g a patience she’d have never thought him capable of. Though, she supposed it was in keeping with the way Adam always handled his little niece—with affection and care.
One day, after Serena had finished practicing, Adam treated them to an impromptu performance, playing several compositions while Serena climbed into her mother’s lap. Daphne sat in a nearby armchair while Niall hovered near the door, his rapt gaze—as always—focused upon Olivia.
His playing seemed to cast the entire room into a thrall, closing out the world and encapsulating them in the drawing room. Daphne allowed herself to watch Adam without fear of being discovered as he’d long lost himself in the music, falling into a place where he existed as one with the notes he sent up from the ivory and ebony keys.
At least, she did not think he noticed her perusal. After several songs, his head turned, and his gaze snapped up to meet hers. She gasped, taken aback by the suddenness of being drawn into those eyes of his, drowning in prisms of green and gold. He didn’t speak, yet when he inclined his head toward the harp resting in one corner of the room, her body moved of its own volition, legs unfolding and propelling her toward it. She sank onto the cushioned seat and reached for the instrument—a plain affair her father had purchased for her some time ago. It did not hold a candle to the beautiful, golden harp at Dunnottar, but its strings could create the same music.
And so, when Adam launched into a familiar duet—one they’d played together before—she fell into the music with him, closing her eyes and putting her fingers to the strings. She smiled as she played, surprised to find she had missed this feeling of being one with him and the notes—his twining together with hers on the air. She’d missed making something with him that wasn’t harmful or hurtful to either of them … sharing the one thing that brought them both peace and joy.
Several more compositions passed them by, and the other occupants of the room seemed content to linger and listen, remaining perfectly still.
