Countess of Scandal (26 page)

She glanced up at him. "What are the dreams like?"

"More like memories, I suppose."

"Memories of what?"

Death and blood, burning homes, screams. A lash flashing through the air. But how could he tell her that? Let her not hate him, just for a little longer. Let him not discover what
she
had been doing, either.

Those rebels had dumped him at Killinan. There had to be a reason for that, a reason she held things back from him. But just for now, he only wanted to be with her again. To remember something that was good and beautiful, not death and violence.

"I don't know," he said. "It is gone when I wake."

She nodded. "I have dreams, too. But they're never really gone." She reached for a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table, soaking a fresh cloth with the sticky brown liquid. "This may smart a bit"

She pressed the cloth to his shoulder, and hundreds of fiery little devils leaped onto him with hot pincers.

"Saint's blood, woman!" he shouted. He convulsed up off the bed, but she firmly pushed him back down. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Yes," she answered. "But first we dug out the bullet and stitched you back up again. Just for the merriment of it."

She took away the cloth, and the pain faded to a stinging prickle. She wound a clean bandage around his shoulder, tying it off before drawing the nightshirt back into place.

"And on top of other indignities, you make me wear a nightshirt," he muttered as she fluffed the pillows. "I haven't worn one to bed in years."

Eliza laughed. "Oh yes, I know. But my younger sis
ters are here, and they do insist on looking in on you occasionally."

"Since when did you become so concerned with the proprieties, Lady Democratical?"

"Oh, I am concerned with many things," she said, tucking the sheets around him. "Such as making sure you rest and regain your strength. What do you need? Besides a kiss, that is."

"Well, if you will not indulge me in my greatest wish..."

"I will not. I don't want to bandage that wound again."

"I wouldn't say no to a dram of that whiskey."

"Now that I can do." Eliza rose from her chair by the bed, taking the bottle to a table where there were tinctures and jars, a tray of untouched food, and piles of bandages. She reached for a glass, her back to him as she poured out the whiskey.

She wore a plain blue muslin dress and no corset or fichu. Her back was an elegant line through the thin fabric, her hair carelessly upswept and tied with a scarf, curling at her vulnerable nape. Will imagined standing behind her, caressing that curve of her spine, kissing her neck softly as she trembled. Tracing his lips along her shoulder, tasting her, feeling her...

She suddenly spun around, and a pink flush spread over her cheeks, as if she read his thoughts. As if she, too, remembered their long, lustful winter nights in Dublin.

But she said nothing. She merely slid her arm gently under his shoulders, helping him sit up against the pillows as she held the glass to his lips.

He wanted to protest that he was not
that
much of an invalid, that he could bloody well drink for himself. But
she smelled so sweet, her body so soft against him, that he could not give up her nearness. So he drank, letting the rough, hot liquid spread its forgetfulness through his veins.

Eliza settled him back, smoothing his hair gently from his brow. "There. You can sleep now."

"Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep," he said.

"Of course." She took his hand in hers, holding on to him as the night closed in around them. "I am here."

"Damn it all, Eliza!" he said, his voice slurred. "You drugged me, didn't you?"

"Just a tiny drop of laudanum to help you sleep," she answered. "Sleep will help you mend. You'll be stronger in the morning."

"And then you'll be sorry for plying me with your potions," he said, or tried to say. His words felt thick as he was dragged down deeper, deeper into those dreams again.

Tm sure I will" He felt her hand on his forehead, cool and gentle. "Sleep now, Will. I'll stay here with you."

His hand slipped from hers as oblivion dropped heavily onto him, but still he felt her presence near him, holding the darkest nightmares at bay.

Eliza sensed the instant Will dropped into sleep, his breath turned heavy and regular, his hand limp in hers and then falling to the bed. She tucked the sheets around him, kissing his lips once more before she slumped back in her chair.

A soft knock sounded at the chamber door, and Eliza turned to see Anna peering in. "Is he asleep?" she asked.

"Yes," Eliza answered. "A true sleep at last, not a feverish stupor."

"May I sit with you for a while?"

"Of course. I'll be glad of the company. But you should be asleep, too."

Anna shook her head, coming over to sit in the chair on the other side of the bed. "I can't sleep. I just lie there, listening for them to come back."

"Them?" ""Whoever left Will here."

"They won't be back," Eliza said with far more confidence than she felt

"Will we have to leave Killinan?"

Eliza had thought of all that, over and over as she sat there by Will's bedside. 'Them," as Anna called Will's rescuer, had said they were taking over all of Kildare. She had thought someone as beloved as her mother would be safe to stay in her home, but now she knew that was not so. The danger increased every day for families like the Blacknalls, and they should all be away—Will, her mother, and her sisters—and she had to go with them. They were her chief responsibilities now.

"Yes. As soon as Will can go."

Chapter 21

He looks better" Katherine said, setting down a tea tray on the bedside table as she examined Will's sleeping face. In the morning sunlight streaming from the open window, he looked bronzed again, not chalk-white. His breath was even, too, deep and rhythmic.

Eliza nodded happily. "He ate a bit of breakfast, too, which is a good sign."

"Indeed. I fear I have seen too many wounds fester in hot weather like this, but William has made a remarkable recovery."

'Thanks to your nursing expertise, Mama."

"Thanks to your own tireless efforts. But I don't want
you
to become ill now." She poured out a cup of tea, pressing it into Eliza's hand. "Drink this. You haven't been taking enough sustenance, and you can't afford to grow any thinner."

Eliza laughed, but she did take a long sip. "I know I am quite unfashionably tall and bony, Mama. I cannot help that now."

"You look like my own mother. She was tall, too."

Katherine sat down in Anna's empty chair, watching thoughtfully as Eliza tucked the blankets around Will "You know, Eliza, I never really loved your father."

Eliza stared at her in shock. Of all the startling events of the past few days, surely her mother's sudden, calm confession was one of the most strange! Katherine Blacknall always kept her own counsel, and she never admitted she was wrong about anything at all. "Mama? How can you say that? You and Father were always most courteous to each other."

"I never said I did not like him," Katherine said. "He was a good man, a dutiful one. And I was dutiful, too. That was why I did what my parents required and married the man they chose when I was barely fifteen."

Eliza had never heard her mother speak of such things before. As far as she knew, Katherine had sprung from the earth as the dignified, reserved Angel of Kildare and had never been fifteen at all. "Did you not want to marry Father?"

"I didn't want or not want anything. I had no choice. I did what my parents had done before me—married who they were told. And it was not so very bad. Your father was kind, much better than my own rakish father, and I loved Killinan Castle from the first day I saw it It has been my home."

She paused, gazing down at the sleeping Will with unreadable eyes. "I know you will understand, Eliza, when I say your father and I had little in common. He liked to hunt and ride, simple country pleasures. He laughed at my books, my friends and parties, my amateur theatricals. We did not have much to talk of together, and there was never much... passion in the bedroom."

"Mama!" Eliza cried, feeling her cheeks burn. Even a grown woman did not want to know such things about her parents!

"I regret nothing, Eliza," Catherine said calmly. "I have my home; I have you and your sisters and brother. But I know I have never looked at a man the way you look at William Denton. And I probably never shall Time is so short, my dear. We have to discover what is really important to us."

She came around the bed to kiss Eliza's cheek and added, "Drink your tea, dearest, and get some rest. You need all your strength now, as do we all." She leaned close to Will, sliding Eliza's portrait under his hand. "I am sorry for the mistakes I made all those years ago"

Eliza stared up at her, bemused by all she had heard. It seemed that, like so much else of late, her mother had changed. But what had really wrought such a transformation?

"Mama..." she began.

"Shh," she said. "I think Will is waking. I have some things to see to downstairs. Make sure he takes his medicine again."

That
would be a hard task, indeed. But she smiled at her mother and settled in to wait for Will to wake up. She did not have to wait long.

"Good morning," he muttered, opening his eyes to give her that grin that always made her heart pound. "Did I miss much when I was asleep?"

"Nothing at all, unless you count my sisters' constant arguments. They're never quiet"

"Well, then, it sounds as if you could use a mediator." Before Eliza realized what he was doing, he shoved back
the bedclothes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rose swiftly, if a bit shakily, holding on to the bedpost His jaw clenched with the effort, but he stood straight, taking one step, then another.

"Will!" she cried. "Get right in bed this moment I won't let our hard nursing work go to waste. You need to rest at least one more day."

"I am vastly tired of resting," he insisted, almost to the door by now.

"You are a stubborn man, William Denton. But I can be more stubborn than you on your best day, so you had best not argue with me anymore." She seized his arm, and despite his protests, he swayed toward her. "Come, sit down by the window. It's a fair day, and the sunshine will do you good."

"I
am
better, Eliza," he said, but he did go with her to the armchair by the window, sitting down heavily on the brocade seat "I can travel; I am sure."

"Yes. Very soon." Eliza perched on the arm of the chair, resting her hand on his back. He was warm, but with life now and not fever, his muscles taut and strong under her touch. She swept aside the tangled length of his bright hair, leaning close to inhale his scent, his essence. How very close she had come to losing this.

He covered her hand with his, drawing her closer as he stared out the open window. The gardens of Killinan were magical in the summer light—lush, bright green rolling lawns with beds of brilliant yellows and reds. They wilted a bit under the heat and lack of care, but from a distance, their beauty was intact, and it seemed eternal.

Will turned his head suddenly, capturing her lips with his as he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her down onto his lap. She tangled her fingers in his hair, feeling its silken coolness on her skin as his tongue touched hers, tasting, savoring.

Their kiss was rough, desperate, tender, full of need, full of the words they could not say. She knew his kiss, his touch, so well now, yet it seemed all new and sweet She was hungry for it, starved. She framed his face in her hands, longing for more and more, for all of him.

But she forced herself to draw away. "We shouldn't do this yet, your wound..."

"Other parts of me hurt far more," he said hoarsely.

She laughed, drawing her hands away and clambering off his lap. But she was none too steady herself, her head whirling with hot desire and need, with the ache of having been months without him in her bed.

She leaned on the windowsill, feeling the warm breeze on her damp skin. "I'm quite certain we should not be doing
that
yet."

"Even if I lie very still and you were on top?"

Eliza drew in a shuddering breath at the erotic image suddenly so vivid in her mind. Their naked bodies entwined as she rode him. "Even then."

"Ah, well. I see my powers of persuasion have failed with you, Eliza." He smiled ruefully, adjusting himself carefully through the thin shirt She turned her head away, trying not to stare at the hard outline of his penis under the cloth.

They were silent for a long moment the only sound the rush of their breath and the pounding of her heart in her ears.

"It was all I thought of every night while we were apart," he said, breaking the quiet
Eliza tried to laugh. "Being spurred on like a wild stallion? I'm sure it was."

"Only by you, Eliza," he answered, laughing back at her. "It sounds ridiculously lustful, I know. But I would lie there in the darkness, that horrible, tense darkness, not knowing if we would be attacked at any moment, if death waited just around the corner. Yet none of it mattered, because I had you. I had our nights in Dublin, and I remembered every moment of them. Every kiss and touch, the way you smelled and tasted and looked The way your eyes watched me as we made love."