Regency Rogues Omnibus (123 page)

“Darth,” she gasped, feeling burning heat flame between her thighs. It was so much more powerful, now that she knew what could come, what he could do to her.

“His lordship is still in the kitchen I believe, Master William.” Chicery’s voice, coming from out in the hall, warned Darth of imminent discovery and he pulled away from Arabella turning around quickly. But he did not move forward, instead staying close in front of her as she moved her legs to the side of him. He heard her low moan as her soft cheek found his back and his hand reached around to grab one of her hands with a squeezing motion.

Chapter Sixteen

“Ah, there you are, Darth,” William Thurmane began saying upon entering the kitchen. “I’m glad to find you still awake.” William was more than just Lee’s estate manager; he was also Darth’s friend. They had grown up as boys together on the estate, with William being two years older. The four boys of William, Robert Drake, Darth, and Darth’s younger brother Beau had formed a mischievous group in their younger years. Upon becoming the earl at the young age of fifteen, Darth had always insisted that his friend William continue to call him by his given name, unless they were in officious company.

Darth stalled to give Arabella a few moments to collect herself, even as he saw William noticing the legs sticking out by his side. “I never ate this evening and thought I would wash up and get some bread and cheese. Do you want some, William?” Darth asked calmly.

William’s thin black eyebrow was arched in a question as Chicery who followed behind him said, “Please allow me, sir, and some hot tea. The water is already hot, so if you do not mind sitting here at the kitchen table, I will have something for you to eat, quick as a whip.”

“Ah, yes,” William muttered, coming to stand behind one of the oak kitchen chairs.

Darth felt Arabella lifting her cheek from his bare back and he hoped that he had given her enough time. But it was a moot point because Chicery had discovered her, having come over to the counter to retrieve some plates.

“Oh, Miss Arabella, I did not see you there! Master William, this is the angel I told you about earlier. An angel of mercy she is! Helping all those people and the doctor even said we would have lost little Billy McFarden if not for her quick help.”

Darth caught a glimpse of William’s highly amused expression, turning to amazement, then to admiration, as Darth helped Arabella down from the counter to set her in front of him, facing William. “Miss Arabella Ormonde, please meet, William Thurmane, Lee’s estate manager,” Darth said.

Darth cautioned William with his gaze to asked no questions of Arabella and he saw that his friend took the meaning well, as he only bowed slightly saying, “Miss Ormonde, it is my pleasure.”

Arabella for her part, pressed her spine further into his chest appearing disconcerted, but she managed a small smile as she acknowledged William. “Mr. Thurmane, it is my pleasure also.”

William grinned broadly, glancing at Darth, with a look of approval in his gray eyes. Darth shrugged off William’s obvious amusement with a wide hand through his still wet hair. William had been after him forever, through the years, to find a woman, although how he could assume Arabella was just that, he did not know. Darth was certain they had not been seen together in their intimate play. But it became apparent to him shortly thereafter, just where William’s conclusion had come from, when he went to pull out a chair for Arabella. He saw the front of the shirt she wore was plainly wet over her breasts and he held the only wet towel. He was extremely glad that Arabella neglected to notice this, as he sought immediately to distract her. “Would you like some bread and cheese also, Arabella?”

Before she could answer, Chicery piped in. “And some nice hot tea,” he said, while setting a steaming cup in front of her. “You drink this now, Miss Arabella, and it will cure all your ills. It is my own special blend and you will like a wee bit of milk and sugar in it.” Chicery hovered around Arabella as if she were his own special prize, making Darth smile. He’d never seen Chicery take to anyone this way, and his coddling gestures were relaxing Arabella’s earlier fluster. It allowed him to turn back to William.

“Did you find anything? Did anyone see anything?” Darth tilted back in his chair with his booted foot placed on the rung of the chair next to his.

“Three of us sought out each one of your people individually, Darth, and no one saw anything out of the ordinary. Of course nearly all of them were in the Grange for the gathering of James Duffy’s, new baby boy’s christening,” William said.

“Oh, no,” Arabella murmured.

Darth’s hand found Arabella’s with a comforting squeeze. “It is a wonder more people were not hurt. Did anyone notice where it started?” Darth asked.

“Duffy said the first anyone noticed it, it was coming out of the back of the Grange. He said it went up so quickly there was hardly anytime, and of course people panicked,” William replied.

Darth leaned further backward, crossing his arms over his chest with a deep frown indenting the cleft in his chin. “The back of the Grange?”

“Yes, Darth, mischief to be sure. Tis why I sought you out. We looked over the wreckage and it appears fairly certain the fire started outside at the back of the building.” William shook his dark head and scooted his chair back. “I’ve set up watches on the embers through the night and best get back.” William looked to Chicery and added. “But I will just grab a bit of this bread and cheese to take with me.”

“William, I will visit the magistrate as early in the morning as possible. This needs to be investigated, even if it might be some children’s mischief. We cannot tolerate that, people were hurt,” Darth said sitting forward.

“Aye, Darth, my thoughts exactly. Well then, I will see you in the morning.” William stood and looked down to Arabella. “We will never be able to thank you, Miss Arabella, for all your help. It has been a pleasure.”

William turned to go and Arabella noticed that he was a tall man and from the back he looked very much like Darth, with his dark hair and broad shoulders. Darth seemed lost in thought as she sat quietly nibbling at her bread and cheese, wondering if youngster’s had really started the fire. It made sense, children’s fascination with fire was renowned, and unfortunately they did not have the true sense to realize how dangerous it could be.

“Would you like some more tea, Miss Arabella?” Chicery asked.

“No thank you,” Arabella answered with a smile. “You have been very kind.”

“Yes, Chicery,” Darth said. “Why don’t you go and find your bed now? Mrs. Wellborn can clean up our small mess in the morning,”

Arabella noticed that Darth was rubbing the scar on his temple. “Does your head hurt, Darth?” she asked, watching his attention return fully to her. He seemed to catch himself in the act of rubbing the scar without knowing it and his hand dropped away. She noticed with concern that the gray coloring of his irises was brighter and the corners of his eyes were pinched looking.

“A little,” he muttered, appearing to try and brush it off.

“It is more than a little,” she admonished. “You need to rest and you need to sleep. Let me try massage, before it takes hold and grows worse. I should give you some poppy syrup for the pain,” she stood saying, “Here, let me get you some.”

He grasped her wrist stalling her. “No, little dove, no medicine. I would drink myself into oblivion if I wanted that kind of relief.”

Arabella thought that was a very curious thing to say and she nearly argued that her herbs could hardly be considered addictive, but Darth was obviously not feeling well and she did not want to upset him with any disagreement. Instead, she wished to help him and to that end, she needed to get him to go to bed and relax. “As you wish, my lord, but bed is a must.”

Darth tried to laugh at Arabella’s cosseting, however the starting of the action caused sharp pain to sear his face, bringing with it a clipped involuntary grunt from his throat.

“Now, Darth!”

Arabella grasped him about the waist as his arm found her shoulder and she guided him out of the kitchen. He was leaning on her more than he would have like to acknowledge and by then, he had to admit a seizure of pain was imminent as his body tightened in anticipation of the worst. So by the time he reached the side of the bed, he was worried that he might hurt Arabella with his weight. There was little he could do about it though as the agonizing pain intensified and he doubled over with it. His hands clutched his face as if he could rip the pain away.
Lord
, he hated the debilitating weakness that left him so helpless beneath its onslaught.

Arabella girded herself to hold up Darth’s weight, praying she could get him into the bed. He was practically withering in agony by the time she did manage to get him there and he just fell onto the mattress on his back. She recognized the first time she’d seen him this way was a mere spell compared to the contortions wracking him now. She tried to quell her raising panic — it was torture to see Darth in so much pain. Should she run and get the poppy syrup to give him? He would not be able to stop her from giving it to him at the moment.

“No,” she exclaimed to herself as she lifted Darth’s legs onto the bed. She would try everything else first, she must respect his wishes. So she ran to get several cold wet cloths, because she thought that the cold applied to his face had helped last time. When she came back to the bed, he was curled onto his side moaning with his hands clenched in fists over his face. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she crawled up onto the bed, taking his shoulders in her hands.

“Please, Darth, lay on your back for me,” she entreated. “I know it is hard.” She pulled and he moved, until he lay flat on his back and she pulled his hands away from his face, then she quickly applied the cold wet cloth. He was so racked with pain, that one look at his face terrified her. His entire body shook with it, while his hands clenched into the mattress, obviously trying to keep flat on his back.

“Darth ... Darth, it will be all right,” she cooed, moving to begin rubbing Darth’s temple. The low groans coming out of his throat tore at her as she tried to keep her hands from shaking.
Sweet Mary,
she had to get hold of herself. She forced herself to calm down even as tears began pricking her eyelids. She remembered the pressure points behind Darth’s ears and she sought them out, wishing that she had two more hands. Even under duress though, she kept her hands massaging steadily. Then she began talking, more to keep her own anxiety away than anything else.

“Have you ever been to Jamaica, Darth, or one of the Caribbean islands?” It was a silly question and one he could not answer, Arabella chided herself. “You should see the place where I was brought up. It is warm all year round and the water is the most beautiful shade of blue and green. The ocean there is warm all the time just like taking a warm soothing bath. You can swim out to the reefs and dive beneath the water, seeing wonderful exotic fish swimming along the brightly colored coral reefs. They come in all shades of pinks and reds. The sky is so blue you think it never ends when you look up at it.”

Arabella rested her temple to Darth’s temple, silently asking that he be relieved from his pain as her hands kneaded his shoulders and neck. “Before my stepfather, my father owned a sugar cane plantation,” she whispered. “And when the cane is fully grown it is like a sea of green, gently flowing in the breeze. People have to be careful, because it is so tall, it is easy to become lost in the fields and walk for days they stretch so far.”

Arabella’s soft spoken words washed over Darth like a soothing balm. Her rich voice carried him away as her hands worked their magic and his body followed her command, relaxing its tension. A heavy sigh of relief escaped him and he drifted into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

Arabella felt Darth easing into slumber and she gently pulled her hands away from him, swiping at her tears. Very carefully she got up from the bed and removed the wet cloth from his face, then she pulled the coverlet up over him. Darth looked much younger, more relaxed in sleep and she fought the urge to brush back his hair as she would do to Nicholas.

The fact that Darth’s suffering affected her so deeply made her realize how much she cared for him. She’d felt Darth’s pain as if it were her own and she’d wished that she could take it on herself, to end his suffering. Even now she was not sure that she could cope the next time it happened, but she counseled herself that she had better be prepared, for she was certain it would happen again.

Arabella rubbed at her eyes realizing how tired she was and she tried to tell herself that was why she had gotten so upset. But she knew that was not true, as she looked around the bedchamber, wondering what she should do now.

Chapter Seventeen

Darth woke slowly, his senses telling him that a warm and soft body curled along his back. It was not something a man who had endured the years of celibacy that he had would miss. Then he recalled the terrible spell of cramping pain that had come on him last evening. He also recalled how quickly that pain had been relieved ... and by whom. Normally with such a sudden devastating spell, he could expect to lie in agony for hours, yet Arabella had relieved him in a short amount of time.

Darth lifted his hand to his scar, touching the raised welt with his fingertips. Then, he followed the line from his forehead to his chin. When he touched his scar this way, it did not feel as bad as it appeared viewing it. It was a wide line, but straight and not jagged. Such a small thing that could change a man’s life entirely, just as easily and as quickly as a little dove was changing his life. Not at this precise moment. But with many of them wrapped together in the past several days and those days of darkened bed chambers and imprisoning beautiful naked women were swiftly ending.