Rebecca paced across the parlor. What had she been thinking agreeing to let him call on her? There could never be anything between them. She’d not allow herself to wind up like Daphne, a widow with a baby after barely three seasons. Her heartbeat raced.
Then again, the war had come to an end. Perhaps she had no reason to fear a relationship with Camden. So long as there was no war, he could not die in battle. Besides, he’d not asked for her hand, only to call on her. She turned and stalked back across the room.
“Would you please cease that incessant pacing? You’re making me dizzy.” Phoebe sighed, placing her needlepoint on the mahogany table beside her. “You act like you are headed for the gallows.”
Rebecca stopped at the window. “I may well be.”
Phoebe arched one brow. “Don’t be so dramatic. Captain Le Bec is a perfectly respectable gentleman, and Mother arranged for you to be chaperoned.”
Rebecca peered out the window toward the long drive leading to her home. If Phoebe knew how disreputable Camden truly was, she would forbid the courtship herself. Rebecca touched her lips recalling the kisses she and Camden had shared. Her stomach fluttered. Would he kiss her again? She hoped he would. Her cheeks warmed, and she waved her fan in an attempt to cool them.
What madness possessed her? She belonged in Bedlam for having such a thought. Even more so for surrendering to him as she had. He could have carried her up to his bed and she would not have complained so long as he continued to kiss her. She was not safe with him. Not as long as her body betrayed her in such a way as it had. She turned back to Phoebe.
“I can’t go through with this. Tell him I have a headache, I’m going to my room.” She moved toward the parlor door.
Phoebe stood, her eyes rounded, jaw slackened “I will do no such thing.” She stepped into Rebecca’s path. “You agreed to spend time with him today and you shall. Now stop being a goose.”
“I’m not being a goose. I have legitimate reasons for not wanting to be around him.” She slapped her fan against her leg.
“Being a soldier is not a legitimate reason for refusing a courtship.” Phoebe placed her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Rowland would not have wished for you to behave in such a way. Our brother loved being a soldier and knew the risk he took.”
Rebecca’s eyes stung with unshed tears, and she blinked them away. “Sometimes I hate him for getting killed, and for leaving us and his sweet baby behind. Nothing is the same anymore. I miss him so much.” She sniffed. “I will not become like Daphne. My heart breaks anew every time I see her.”
“I understand, I swear I do. But it makes no difference who you marry. You can’t guarantee they will live as long as you do. People die young every day and war is seldom the culprit.” Phoebe patted Rebecca’s shoulder. “Just consider it. Allow yourself to get to know Captain Le Bec before you toss him aside.”
Feet shuffled and Rebecca turned to the door. Her butler stood in the entrance. A maid scurried past him taking up her station in the corner. Mother sent a maid to chaperone? Did she wish to see Rebecca compromised? Her stomach turned as she waited for him to speak.
“Captain Le Bec to see Lady Rebecca.” He gave a bow and departed.
Camden strolled in, offering one of those stunning smiles making Rebecca’s insides quiver. “Good day, Lady Phoebe. Lady Rebecca.”
Rebecca’s pulse thumped. Her mind screamed at her to make an excuse to get away, but her legs refused to move. Camden wore his tan breeches again today with an elegant navy day coat and starched white cravat. His blue eyes shone in stark contrast to his dark hair. She had to admit he was the handsomest gentleman she’d ever seen. It only made him more dangerous.
“Good day to you as well, Captain Le Bec. If you will excuse me I was just on my way to answer some letters.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at Phoebe. How could her sister run off knowing how badly she did not want to spend time alone with Camden? She’d done the very same thing at Babylon. Why did she seem so determined to push them together?
“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside, allowing Phoebe to sail past him and out of the room.
Rebecca watched her disappear through the door in a flurry of yellow skirts. The fluttering returned to her belly the moment she met Camden’s gaze. She rested a hand on her abdomen. “I’ll ring for refreshments. Please have a seat.”
He stepped closer to her. “I thought we might enjoy a stroll through the garden, but if you would rather stay inside I’m happy to.”
She swallowed hard, heat fanning through her like flames being stoked in the hearth. Fresh air might do her some good. She glanced out the window. At least she would not be sitting idle and uncomfortable. How did he unsettle her so? “A walk sounds lovely.”
He offered his arm. From the moment she slid her hand around his bicep, her body betrayed her. The heat raging inside her increased as he led her into the grand foyer. After she accepted her parasol from the butler, Camden donned his hat and led her outside. He looked even more dashing with that hat.
The day was warm but a cooling breeze danced around her. She opened her parasol, grateful for the shade it cast. Birdsong drifted from the distance. If only she too could spread her wings and fly away to safety. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure the maid followed at a respectable distance, if one could even consider a maid a respectable chaperone.
“Lady Chesterfield tells me there is to be a ball.” He guided her onto a path running along the garden’s edge. “Might I request the first dance?”
Her breath hitched. She could not risk losing herself in his embrace again. Phoebe’s words echoed in the forefront of her mind. Perhaps her sister was right. Camden would be departing for his family home before long. He’d told father as much. Once he was gone her life would return to normal. No harm would come from allowing him to court her for a short time. Not as long as they remained properly chaperoned, and there would be plenty of prying eyes at the ball. She would need to enlist one of the older married women or a widow for the job. “You may.”
He tightened his hold on her arm. “I shall look forward to our dance until tomorrow night, and long to hold you in my arms again once it is over.”
Her heart fluttered at his eloquent words. When she glanced at him the sincerity in his eyes took her breath away. The possibility of losing her heart to him made her throat tighten. She averted her gaze to the flowering bushes they passed.
“I had your treasure moved up to the entry hall. Now you can attend it without my having to worry about your safety.”
“You worry about me?” Her words came out whisper-soft.
“Never before have I met a lady who charges head first into danger as you do, Rebecca. I suspect I will never meet another. I admire your fearlessness and determination, but it also frightens me. I’d not have you hurting yourself if I can help it.”
She smiled, and moved closer to his side. “I would hardly be in danger going down to the storage room.”
“Believe me, those stairs are treacherous.” His voice held a teasing lilt.
She stifled a laugh. She’d been terrified for him when she saw him nearly tumble down them yesterday. But now the scene proved rather humorous. The expression on his face as he regained his balance with his arms flailing about ran through her mind. The skilled soldier had been bested by a set of steps. “Indeed they are.”
He steered her toward an iron bench. “Might we sit for a spell?”
She released his arm. “What are your plans for Babylon Castle?” The bench’s cool surface seeped through her skirts as she settled upon the iron surface. A large lime tree stood behind the bench offering shade. She closed her parasol and placed it across her lap.
He settled next to her, angling his body toward hers. “I’m considering having it restored. As much as possible that is. The fifth floor is beyond repair.”
Her breath caught. “I wish you would not.”
“Why?”
“I have always thought of Babylon a
s a memorial to Sir Kenton and Lady Nicola. Their story found its beginning and end within the castle’s walls. It seems wrong to change Babylon.” Cheeks tingling, she picked at a fold in her skirt. “Of course, you own the castle now.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It’s yours to do with as you choose.”
He placed his hand over hers, stilling it. “I rather like your way of looking at Babylon.”
She bit her lip. “You do?”
He grinned. “As far as I am aware, no one has resided at Babylon since they did. Perhaps you are right, the castle belongs to them. They gave me a strong heritage, one any man would be proud of, the least I can do is leave their home undisturbed.”
“You truly mean it?” Her pulse quickened.
“I do.” He leaned toward her. “For as long as I live, the castle will remain a monument to Sir Kenton and Lady Nicola. You have my word.”
She tipped her head, and as he leaned closer, her lips parted. His hand reached up to cup her cheek.
A scream split the air around them causing the hair at the back of Rebecca’s neck to stand up. Camden jerked away, shot to his feet, and scanned the surrounding area.
“That sounded like Daphne. Something’s wrong.” Her heart beat so hard she feared it would leave her chest.
Before she could gain her footing he ran off toward the stable. She raced after him clutching her skirt in both hands. Daphne’s screams still rang out feeding Rebecca’s anxiety. She pushed her legs to pump faster. Her heart skipped a beat when she came around the corner of the stable. Daphne lay on the ground clutching her leg. Tears streaked her face. Her breaths came in heavy pants. Camden knelt on the grass leaning over her.
Rebecca dropped to her knees beside them. “What happened?”
“I f-fell from m-my horse.”
Camden brushed Daphne’s loose hair away from her face. “There now, everything will be all right.” He glanced at Rebecca. “I sent the stable boy after the horse.”
Rebecca nodded. “We have to get her inside and send for the physician. You carry her in. I will run ahead and send someone to fetch the doctor.” She turned to the maid who had followed her. “Go ahead of us and turn down Lady Daphne’s bed.”
Daphne let loose a wretched scream when Camden lifted her into his arms.
Rebecca laid a hand on her shoulder. “You can trust Captain Le Bec. He will take care of you, I promise.” Rebecca waited until she nodded, then ran toward the house, her skirt hiked up to her knees.
She did not slow to look back until she’d reached the entrance. Camden followed not far behind her. Daphne had her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried against his chest. Rebecca swallowed past the lump in her throat, drew a deep breath, and burst through the door nearly knocking the footman who’d opened the mahogany panel off his feet.
The footman’s eyes widened. “My lady.”
“Lady Daphne is hurt. Send for the doctor at once.” She turned her attention to a nearby maid. “Go get Mother. Send her to Lady Daphne’s room. Do not tarry, go quickly.”
The maid nodded before disappearing up the stairs.
Camden came through the door, Daphne sobbing in his arms. Rebecca led him to Daphne’s chamber where he placed her upon the bed. Rebecca sat on the edge of the mattress stroking Daphne’s cheek.
“Mother’s coming, and the doctor as well. You are safe now.” Tears pricked at her eyes but she fought them back. She needed to be strong for Daphne. “Mother will know how to take care of you.”
Rebecca looked up searching the room for Camden. Her face paled. A deep scarlet stream trailed down his hand dripping onto his breeches. “You’re bleeding.”
Chapter Nine
Camden looked down at his hand then back to Rebecca. The worry in her gaze tugged at his heart. “It’s nothing to worry about. A scratch is all.”
“It needs tending.” She glanced back at Lady Daphne.
“I’ve experienced far worse wounds. My hand can wait.” He moved closer to Rebecca now cradling his injured hand in his unharmed one. “I came to close to the stable and scratched it on the corner. It’s nothing”
She grimaced before turning her attention to the maid in the corner. “Go fetch linen strips and warm water straight away.”
Lady Chesterfield stepped into the room with Lady Phoebe on her heels. They stopped at the foot of the bed. “What happened?” Lady Chesterfield stared at Lady Daphne lying on the mattress.
“She was tossed from her mount. I fear her leg is broken.” Rebecca stood. “The doctor is on his way.”
Lady Chesterfield took Rebecca’s spot at the edge of the bed. “I will take over from here. Phoebe, have a servant fetch the brandy decanter. A drink will take the edge off of her pain. Wait for the doctor. Show him up the moment he arrives.”
Phoebe nodded before disappearing from the room.
“Captain Le Bec cut his hand helping Daphne.” Rebecca glanced at him. “If you will excuse us, Mother, I’d like to tend to his injury.”
“Yes, please do take care of him.” Lady Chesterfield turned her attention to Camden. “Captain Le Bec, you’ve done us a great deed. I thank you for it.”
He shrugged. “I simply happened to be in the right place to help. Any gentleman would have done the same.”
Lady Chesterfield studied him for a moment, nodded, then turned her attention back to Daphne.
“Come. Let us see to your hand.” Rebecca nodded to the door.
He followed her, the throbbing in his hand intensifying when he tightened his grip around it. They reached the staircase and made their way down. At the foot of the steps Rebecca turned. The maid she’d sent came down the hall with the requested supplies.
“Take them into the parlor.” She glanced back at Camden, worry etching her features, before scurrying after the maid.
The concern she showed for him made him smile. He knew she found him attractive, enjoyed his company and his touch. Her body’s reaction to him told him as much. The way she blushed for him, accepted his kiss, the lust in her eyes when he held her, but this? Rebecca cared about him even if she denied it.
“Sit over there, please.” She pointed toward a wingback chair by the hearth.
He smirked at her tight tone, lowering himself into the chair. The maid set her burden on the mahogany table next to his seat before retreating into a corner. Rebecca came up beside him. She removed her white gloves, then laid a strip of linen across the table. “Give me your hand.”
Camden placed his injured hand in her outstretched one. The contact sent a new sensation through him, overshadowing the throb that had been there just moments before. Warmth spread through him at her tender touch.
She dipped a fresh strip of the white linen into a bowl of warm water before dabbing the damp cloth on his wound. He winced and her gaze flickered to his. “Does it hurt terribly?”
“No, just stings a little.” He studied the gash across the top of his hand. The wound, more severe than he’d thought, stained the white linen strip red. It looked as though something had gashed at his flesh. Still the wound was small, barely an inch across. A tight binding would do the trick.
“The doctor is in with Daphne. Her leg is broken and he’s sent for the surgeon to set the bone.” Phoebe said from the door. “Should I send the doctor in here when he’s finished?”
Rebecca nodded without looking up from her task.
“No, that shall not be necessary. The cut is not as bad as it appears.” Camden glanced between the two women.
Phoebe crossed the room to Rebecca’s side. Her gaze focused on Camden’s hand. “It looks like you caught it on a nail or something.”
“It needs to be properly cleaned so the wound does not fester.” Rebecca wrapped a dry strip of linen around his hand. “It will do you no harm to let the doctor treat your injury.”
She made a good argument. More than her words, the worry in her green eyes beseeched him. “Very well, I will let the doctor have a look.”
She smil
ed. “Good.”
He rather preferred her smile to the worried expression she’d been wearing since hearing Lady Daphne’s screams. It lit up her whole face, made her eyes sparkle. He wanted to bask in that look for the rest of his days.
The rest of his days. His heart skipped a beat. He had not been searching for a wife, had not even considered the idea before this moment. He looked toward the window. All he wanted was to spend some time alone before returning to London, yet his stomach turned at the idea of leaving Rebecca.
“I will send him in once he finishes with Daphne.” Phoebe said. “I am going to check on her now, if you will excuse me.” She nodded to him, smiled at her sister, then left the parlor.
“It was truly wonderful the way you cared for Daphne. I am sorry you hurt yourself in the process.” Rebecca scooped up the soiled linen strips from the table.
“I have no wish for praise. I did what needed doing, nothing more.”
She dropped the pile of linen into the bowl. “How very modest of you.”
He chuckled. “Call it what you will.”
She smiled and swatted his shoulder playfully. “You’re incorrigible.”
Camden studied Rebecca as she re-bandaged his injured hand. He liked the way she fussed over him. She’d come to Babylon twice each day for the past three to tend to his wound. During her visits he’d told her about his brother and parents, his childhood. In return she’d told him about her childhood, and her brother, Rowland. He still attended the house party, but enjoyed the time they spent at Babylon most of all. Aside from her chaperone they were alone in the castle. At her estate there seemed to always be several people about.
“Your hand is healing nicely. Soon you won’t need to bandage it.”
He glanced up, his gaze fixating on her plump pink lips. “All thanks to your tender care.”
Her cheeks tinted and his blood heated. He’d not kissed her since the storage room. Not that the opportunity had not presented itself, but he enjoyed getting to know her. The curiosity and desire he experienced in their earlier interactions had changed into something more, something stronger. When had this lady captured his heart? Did he hold hers as well?
Regency Wolfe: A de Wolfe Pack Connected World collection of Victorian and Regency Tales Page 21
