“Th…thank you,” she stuttered, swiping the hair from her face so she could properly look up at him. “You saved me.”
Hell and damnation, he couldn’t stay angry with her, not when she peered up at him like he was a knight in shining armor. “Perhaps we’re even now.”
His heart was racing much more than it should be. Her lips lifted. If she smiled, he knew without doubt he’d kiss her right there in front of his boys. Nate jerked his gaze from her and lifted the daft woman, cradling her to his chest.
“You could’ve drowned.” His voice came out rough, and anxious. He hoped to God she didn’t notice. Damn, he worried about her much more than he should. “You’re insane, do you realize that?”
“I…I’m insane?” she stuttered with cold. He stumbled to the bank and settled her upon the grass, a sodden kitten. “After the life you’ve lived…The things I have no doubt you’ve done…”
He collapsed on the bank beside her. “Touché.”
“Bleedin cold,” Beth muttered. “Must come from the mountains in Scotland.”
“What happened?” Oliver demanded, racing toward them in all of his righteous fury.
“She’s fine, Oliver,” Nate snapped. Truly, he was relieved his children were growing close to the governess, but at the moment he had more important things to worry about….such as Beth’s paleness. She was freezing; he’d be able to hear her teeth chattering from across the field.
Charlie grinned down at them. “Looks like we’ll be staying at an inn after all.”
Chapter 11
An hour later, when they pulled into the garden of a stone inn, Beth was still thoroughly soaked, and growing more desperate with each moment that went by. Nate had dumped her into the carriage, tossed a blanket over her sodden form, and rode ahead as if completely finished with her.
She was bloody miserable with her hair hanging in wet clumps around her head, and her body shaking so hard she could barely move. To make matters worse the boys hadn’t stopped chattering since she’d fallen into the water. Oh, they’d found it highly amusing of course. Their constant jests were making her head ache. But as time ticked away and she hadn’t reacted, too miserable to care, they’d given up their games.
Oliver settled next to her, the worry upon his face endearing. He was the only lad who hadn’t laughed, and was fast becoming her favorite.
“We’re there,” he said. “So you can get warm now.”
“She’s not a baby, Oliver,” Charlie snapped. He’d been angry and morose ever since they’d continued their journey. Perhaps annoyed that his fun was at an end. Or maybe frustrated that Beth hadn’t reacted to his taunts.
“Can we go see the horses?” Oliver asked as the carriage stopped between the inn and the stables.
“No,” Beth muttered, shivering.
Would she ever get warm? The temperature had dropped, the air damp with storm. Perhaps Nate had decided to let her freeze to death so he wouldn’t have to bother letting her go from her post. The door opened and Reynolds appeared. For some reason the butler traveled with Nate. An odd practice in deed. But he’d softened toward her lately, and for that she was grateful.
The boys fell out of the carriage like pups falling out of a basket, tumbling and jumping over each other in their haste for freedom. She was just as eager to leave but had grown stiff with cold and could barely move her limbs. Blast England and her cold, damp weather anyway.
Nate hadn’t bothered to stop and ask how she fared, but instead headed into the inn to procure rooms. Fleas, lice, dirty bedding…she didn’t bloody care what the inn held as long as she could get warm. Windows glowed merrily, promising warmth and rest. Although the place seemed full, she had no doubt he would manage to gain a few beds. Who would refuse an earl? No one.
Beth shivered again, and brought the blanket closer. She didn’t even mind if she looked like a desperate waif, or more likely a drowned rat, she only wanted shelter, a warm bath, and sleep. A soft rain drifted from the sky, pattering against the carriage roof, and adding to her unease. With frozen limbs, she somehow managed to make her way from the coach.
“Come, children, let us travel closer to the inn and seek shelter.” She stepped forward, only to feel the ground underfoot shake. A carriage was headed toward her. Annoyed at the intrusion, she started to fall back out of the way, stumbling under her stiff limbs.
“Mrs. Church!”
A hard body hit her from behind, sending Beth off balance and toward the ground. She landed with a splash into the muddy earth, Charlie atop her. The carriage rumbled by, not bothering to pause. To them she was a mere ruffian in no need of attention.
“Ugh,” Beth groaned, the mud sticking to her neck and arms, splattered across her face.
Charlie rolled off.
Somehow she managed to sit upright. He’d gone too far. His pranks would get a person injured. “Charlie,” she snapped. “How dare—”
“What were you thinking?” the boy cried out with more emotion than she thought possible.
She started to reprimand him for his sharp tone, but when she looked up at his furious face, the words all but died upon her lips. There was something more than anger in his eyes…eyes that reminded her so much of Nate’s. She’d seen the same look in his father’s gaze when the wolf had attacked.
Fear. Vulnerability. Worry.
“You could have been killed!” Charlie ranted. “How could you be so careless?”
Stunned, Beth merely sat there in the mud, while Charlie stormed off into the dark. She’d been in no true danger, but the boy seemed to think she’d been knocking on death’s door.
“What happened, miss?” Reynolds asked compassionately.
“I don’t know. Charlie seems to believe I was in danger.” She managed to regain her feet with the butler’s help. Although her skirts were heavy with mud and water, duty and curiosity spurred her onward. “Do watch the children, will you? I’ll get Charlie.”
“Aye, miss.”
Beth picked up her sodden skirts, and trudged toward the lad who had paused near the shadows of the stables. Could her instincts be true…did the boy care much more than he let on? No, impossible. Charlie was the least likely to give a fig about her well-being. Something else must be bothering the lad.
“Charlie.”
He didn’t respond, merely turned his face away, but not before she saw the tears glistening in his eyes, shimmering under the lantern light that hung from the eaves of the stables. Shocked, indeed. She paused near, but not too close, unsure how to continue with the prickly boy.
“Charlie, I so appreciate you coming to my rescue, but I am well.”
He sniffled. “You could have died.”
“No, I—”
“You don’t know that!” He spun around to face her, fury puckering his features. “Anyone of us could die at any moment!”
She nodded slowly, afraid of making the situation worse, and unsure what to say to appease the boy. After getting up early and being stuck in a carriage all day, she feared they were all a bit exhausted and irrational. “Yes, I suppose. But it’s why we must enjoy the world while we’re here.”
Even she realized the ridiculousness of her comment. When had she ever enjoyed life? Not since before her marriage. So many years ago. She could barely remember the hopeful, innocent girl she’d been.
He shook his head adamantly. “It’s a curse, this world. A punishment.”
She was stunned by his words. Even as a child when her parents had ignored her, she’d always held out hope, prayed that someday there would be more. How could this lad have given up so easily so early on in life? His words nearly broke her heart. “Perhaps it’s not, perhaps it’s a blessing.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because…because there is always hope. Because you never know what will happen from day to day.”
“I do.” He shook his head and looked away. “And it never gets better.”
“It does.” She stepped closer, wrapp
ing her arms around his shoulders. For the first time since arriving, she found herself softening toward the boy. If she was smart, she would leave Nate to deal with his son. She didn’t need to grow closer to the lads, it would only make it more difficult to leave. So why couldn’t she seem to walk away?
“Life is always changing. You never know what will happen. I was in a rather bad spot, you know. And then I met you. All of you, and everything is so much better.”
He frowned, moving away from her, as if afraid to get close. So like his father. “We’ve been terrible to you.”
Despite her headache, she grinned. “No worse than my brother and I were to our governesses. Yes, you’ve made me angry. I’ve even thought about moving to Antarctica merely to get as far away from you as possible. But you know what…at least I feel again. I haven’t felt in a long time. And I’ll even admit you’ve made me laugh when I haven’t laughed in months. Years.”
As she spoke the words, she realized with some surprise that they were true. The two of them were silent for a moment, watching the younger lads head into the inn with Reynolds. Oliver kept glancing back as if to make sure she was still there. How different things suddenly were, when she’d thought they would never get better. The boys actually seemed to hold affection for her. The thought stirred feelings inside she thought long since dead and buried. If they cared for her, how would they feel when she left? It was all too much. The headache she’d been trying to keep at bay flared.
“To be honest,” she continued, rubbing her temples. “Between you and me, my brother and I merely wanted attention from our parents which is why we acted so dastardly.”
She rested her hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently toward the inn.
“What we didn’t realize was that our parents had many responsibilities. Not only that, but they had their own problems. The way they ignored us, the way my father gambled, the fact that my mother would lay in bed, melancholy for days and days…it had nothing to do with us or if we were bad, or good. Nothing at all.”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re hoping I will apply your story to my father.”
She didn’t know why she cared. Nate had been a bastard more than once, and in the end she would leave, this family being a mere memory in the grander scheme of things. But she felt the sudden need to defend the man. “Charlie, when your father ignores you it has nothing to do with whether you’re good or bad, but everything to do with his own issues. Don’t you see? He has many problems—”
“The pain?” he whispered.
She paused halfway to the door and he paused with her. Did all the boys know about their father’s odd behavior? She hadn’t heard a thing since that one, terrifying night. In fact, at times she thought perhaps she’d dreamt it. “What do you mean?”
“When he screams with pain.”
Beth swallowed hard, her heart hammering. So, she hadn’t imagined it. How much, exactly, did the boys know? Part of her was afraid to ask. The rain thickened, large drops relentlessly hitting her face. She felt slightly dazed. The urge to know more fought with the urge to keep them both safe and well. In the end her worry for the boy’s well-being won.
“We should go inside,” Beth urged. “Before you catch a chill.”
“Have you ever lost anyone, Mrs. Church? Do you know anyone who has died?”
The question startled her. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer. First Oliver had asked, and now Charlie?
“Have you?” he asked.
Her husband’s cold, blank face came to mind. When she’d raced down those stairs his eyes had been open, his face pale, drained of any life. She’d thought she’d find peace with his death, but no…the picture only haunted her dreams, never letting her rest. She’d spent her days resisting the urge to remember. Lucky, really, to have the boys fighting for attention, for it kept her busy. And she hadn’t allowed herself to think about him.
“Mrs. Church?”
“Yes,” she blurted out.
“Someone you loved dearly?”
She blinked, forcing the picture of her husband from her mind, and focusing upon someone entirely new. A tiny perfect face with a halo of strawberry blonde hair. A memory that shocked her with its clarity. It hadn’t faded with time, as Meg said it would. The pain that sliced through her chest was all too familiar, too sharp, too strong. “Yes.”
“Mother loved us,” Charlie said softly and she knew she should listen. She tried to listen to the boy as he waxed poetically about his beautiful, lying mother, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because the baby’s face kept coming to mind. A face she’d tried so hard to forget, and thought she had. The memory tore at her gut, sucked the very air from her lungs so that she found it hard to breathe. It hadn’t faded. It would never fade.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Church. For teasing you, for…everything.”
She nodded, even as her heart slammed rapidly against her ribcage and she feared she would never be able to breathe. Death, so much death. Her husband was gone, she was finally free, but what did it matter when her baby had perished? Her husband’s demise had changed nothing. Nothing at all.
“Mrs. Church.” Charlie rested his hand on her arm. “Are you well?”
“Yes,” she somehow managed to get out. It had been so long since she’d had an attack. She should have known she was overdue. “Please, just give me a moment.”
He hesitated, and she knew her odd behavior was making him uneasy. Ignoring Charlie, she focused on breathing. Focused on living. Focused on keeping the panic at bay. She hadn’t had an attack in some time. But it was there, always there, mocking her from the darkness, ready to appear.
Charlie headed up the stairs but she remained firmly planted on the ground, afraid that if she moved, she would stumble and fall. Afraid that if she didn’t concentrate on breathing the panic would attack. The lights hanging from the eaves pulsed in and out of focus. Just a moment…just a few moments and it would pass. But…it wasn’t going away. Despite the rain, a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Why wouldn’t it leave her in peace?
Beth gripped the railing and sank onto the steps. Vaguely she was aware of the sound of laughter and merriment coming from the inn, but the noise was like a far off dream. She needed to hide….somewhere to hide away until the shame of her attack faded completely. She surged to her feet, intending to crawl to the stables if she must, but instead she stumbled directly into a hard chest.
“Who did you lose?” Nate’s voice asked from the darkness, an anchor that pulled her toward reality.
Oh God, he’d heard. He’d been standing there while she’d talked to Charlie and he’d heard everything the boy had asked, everything she’d said in reply. She didn’t dare look into his handsome face. She would feed no one’s morbid curiosity.
“Leave me alone, please.” She tried to push away from him, to flee before he witnessed her humiliation, but he wouldn’t let her go, and the attack kept coming, clawing at her reserve.
“Who, Beth?”
Why wouldn’t he relent? She struggled in his hold as her vision wavered, and her chest grew tighter and tighter. “My husband, of course.”
The world tilted, her knees buckled, and she would have fallen to the ground if he hadn’t been there, his strong body holding her upright. Could he not see that she needed peace? She needed to be alone. He of anyone should understand.
“No,” he said. “You’ve lost someone else. When you mention your husband there is no emotion in your voice.”
She squirmed in his hold, desperately attempting to think of something, anything, to get him to release her. A few travelers had entered the front garden and were watching them warily. What if one recognized her? “My brother.”
He shook his head. “No. Someone else.”
She gasped for air, anger fighting with panic. “What do you want from me? Why is it any of your concern?” She spun around and started to flee, only to be waylaid when he jerked her back against his muscled chest.
His bod
y was warm, so bloody warm. But if he continued to hold her, she knew the emotional barriers she’d erected would collapse and she would feel again. Feel so damn much. She couldn’t feel. If the emotions got the better of her she would never survive this cold, harsh world. Dear God, Charlie was right. There was no good here.
“Who, Beth?”
“A babe!”
She wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her outburst, Nate or herself. Her heart pounded in her chest, her neck, her arms…everywhere. While he didn’t speak, didn’t utter a single word, she found she couldn’t stop talking. She squeezed her eyes shut as the levies opened and her mind raced back to that memory. It was as if someone had shoved a sword through her chest, tearing an old wound.
“I was just seven months along. When she died…” She swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. “She was a babe. A real baby, so real. Perfect, and he killed her.”
As if mirroring her mood, thunder crackled in the sky, shaking the very ground they stood on. But the cold drops of rain did little to bring her back into reality. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t make it to her room. She no longer felt part of her body.
Nate scooped her up, cradling her to his chest. Her breathing was shallow and raspy even to her own ears, but being warmed against Nate, being held so intimately to his strong body, made her feel safe, secure in a way she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He carried her toward the pub, his heartbeat calm and strong against her ear.
“Is Mrs. Church well?” she heard Oliver demand.
She didn’t open her eyes, couldn’t even if she had wanted to. Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind she realized that being in Nate’s arms was completely inappropriate. That the scene would cause attention, and she needed to hide in the shadows least she be recognized, but she couldn’t seem to care.
“Reynolds, take the children to their room, and see them to bed. Mrs. Church isn’t feeling well.”
“Of course, my lord.”
She didn’t fight Nate as he carried her up the stairs and into a room, destroying whatever reputation she held. What did it matter when she was wanted for murder? She only knew that the gaping wound she’d tried so hard to cover had cracked open and was seeping…seeping.