She knew instinctively there was no part of the woods surrounding them that hadn’t been scanned thoroughly for any sign of danger. This was a new and faintly alarming side of him she had never seen before, and she wasn’t certain she was all that comfortable with the dangerous predator still holding her.
Casting a quick glance at the shadows around them, Isobel could see nothing other than the darkening shadows of the trees and bushes.
She was still in awe with the ease in which he had moved with a lithe confidence, through the broken branches littering the floor.
Overwrought by the past few hours, she jumped nervously in his arms as the warmth of his lips suddenly settled close to her ear.
“Keep quiet. We need to go back to Havistock, and quickly,” the warmth of his breath against her cheek did little to ward off the chill sweeping through her.
She was unable to hide the shiver that wracked her. Although she silently nodded in acquiescence, she felt sure that her acceptance wasn’t expected. She would be taken to Havistock anyway, whether she wanted to go or not.
Suddenly, she was very glad for the warmth of his presence, even if he could never be hers. Wearily she rested her head meekly against his shoulder, fighting with the knowledge that even if she did have the energy to argue against his arrogant command of her, she wasn’t sure she would object.
Several moments later, Isobel saw the origin of the strange whistle as they cleared the protection of the small copse of trees. A stocky man sat atop a very large bay, waiting in the encroaching gloom for them to approach. Isobel shuddered at the menacing shadow of horse and rider, so starkly outlined in the night skies that she could only be very grateful she hadn’t seen such a ghostly sight while she had been alone.
She was only vaguely aware of hushed murmuring before she was lifted upward. Within moments she was held tightly against Dominic’s chest again, as both horses cantered through open fields toward Havistock. Save in Dominic’s tender embrace, exhaustion soon claimed her and despite the jolting of the horse beneath her, Isobel succumbed to the swirling blackness sucking her under.
Dominic took a few precious moments to slow down and carefully enfold her in his long wool cloak. The bone-chilling cold of her skin disturbed him greatly, and he knew she was in serious danger from the cold wind that howled menacingly around them. She needed sustained warmth, and fast.
Enfolding her slender form in the clock, he pulled her against him tightly and tugged the edges of his cloak around her as much as he could, before he nudged his horse toward home.
“Not long until we get there now, darling. We will soon have you safe and warm. Everything will be alright. You’ll see,” Dominic wasn’t sure she had heard him, but it gave him some measure of reassurance to assume she had. The alternative was too much to contemplate.
Isobel was vaguely aware of Dominic’s hushed whisper, but couldn’t summon the energy to respond. It sounded as though his voice was coming from a long way off, and she couldn’t quite reach him. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get her eyes to open. The battle to open her eyes was just too great for her dwindling strength, and within seconds the meagre supply of energy she did have suddenly evaporated, leaving Isobel at the mercy of the pervading darkness once more.
“Isobel?” Dominic was worried. His voice held a more commanding edge when she didn’t respond.
“Isobel?” he twitched his shoulder lightly in an attempt to wake her, and cursed fluidly when her head lolled back, her eyes firmly closed. Whether it was starvation, cold, exhaustion or fear that had caused her to faint, Dominic couldn’t tell but the urge to get her to Havistock nipped at his heels. Without further ado, he pulled her tight against him, dug his heels into the horse beneath them, and cursed the distance to the house. Having dispatched his groom to summon the doctor several miles back, Dominic cursed fluidly when rain began to pelt down on them, adding to her already perilous predicament.
“Cursed weather,” Dominic muttered starkly, eventually drawing to a halt in front of Havistock Hall’s heavy oak doors. It took little effort for him to juggle Isobel enough to kick the front door open, and within mere seconds, Dominic had them both inside the warmth of the Main Hall.
“Manvers!” Dominic bellowed, mounting the main staircase, two steps at a time. He was oblivious to the puddles his booted feet left behind. “Manvers, where are you? Quickly man!”
Within seconds, his trusted butler, Manvers was running down the hallway from the kitchens, Mrs Holcombe, his housekeeper, and what appeared to be the entire house staff behind them.
“Get someone to see to my horse. Shut the door quickly and lock it Manvers,” Dominic ordered heading straight toward the master suite. “Do not open that door to anybody, unless I am informed first, do you understand?” He didn’t wait for Manvers’ assent.
“Mrs Holcombe, please I need your assistance,” he shouted, disappearing down the corridor leading to his own suite of rooms. “Bring some hot water and warm food quickly!” He was vaguely aware of the stunned silence behind him for several moments, before the house burst into a flurry of activity.
As he strode through the upper hallway, he never paused to consider placing her in one of the opulent guest rooms, instead heading directly towards his own suite of rooms in the rear of the house.
She was his, and he was going to keep her as close to him as possible. Etiquette could go to hell. He didn’t care if she was ruined by simply being alone with him. She was his, and now he had her, only death could snatch her away from him, and that was something he wasn’t about to let happen without a fight.
He carefully placed her in the middle of his bed, cursing at how small and fragile she looked against the brocade cover. Where the hell had she been? Having endured the living hell of the battlefields, he had become far too familiar with human misery, and the terrible destruction, man could inflict upon man. However, nothing could have prepared him for the severity of her plight. From the appearance of her, it was evident she had quite clearly nearly starved to death, and was wearing inadequate clothing to keep her alive throughout summer, let alone the long, harsh winter months to come.
Fighting down the burning tide of anger, Dominic shook off his jacket and boots, thankful that Manvers had already lit the fire to ward off the evening chill. Within minutes, Dominic had it roaring heartily in the grate, suffusing the room in welcome warmth.
He was in the process of removing Isobel’s sodden outer clothing when Mrs Holcombe and two maids appeared in the doorway.
“My stars,” Mrs Holcombe muttered, gazing at the half starved, slightly wild creature the master had just brought home. Barking quick instructions to the maids beside her, Mrs Holcombe moved toward the bed and began to help remove sodden clothing.
“Cook is bringing some broth in a few minutes my Lord,” Mrs Holcombe informed him, somewhat aghast. “If you want to leave her with us now, we’ll see to her. We can move her to the room-.”
“No!” Dominic winced inwardly at the almost shout, but offered no apology as the women immediately froze and stared at him. “She is to stay here with me. Just get her out of these wet clothes and warm her up. The doctor is on his way, but we cannot wait for him to arrive. She must be warmed up and quickly.”
He watched in satisfaction as the import of his words sank in, and the women immediately moved to assist him.
“Please Sir, leave her with us. I can promise you she will be safe. You must get yourself warm and dry as well,” Mrs Holcombe replied fervently, wishing he would leave them to deal with their unusual charge, such was the unconventionality of their situation. “You’ll be no good to her if you catch a chill yourself.”
It became apparent after several attempts to untie the laces of her shirt that he was more of a hindrance than a help.
“Sir!”
The shock of finding Isobel was beginning to wane and Dominic eventually became aware of the disapproving censure of the women in the room when he was about to release t
he tight bindings covering her breasts. Realising he needed to preserve Isobel’s dignity, Dominic nodded in weary defeat and with one last searching look at her, reluctantly turned toward the door.
Two hours later, his plate of food barely touched on the desk behind him, Dominic stood before the hearth, staring down at the glowing flames jostling heartily in the grate with an absent frown on his face. The doctor had been and gone, and the news was not good.
One of the staff was quickly dispatched to summon Peter’s presence at Havistock as a matter of urgency. Not only did he need to know about his sister’s survival, but he also needed to be informed of her ill health, and the imminent danger to her life.
God forbid the doctor was indeed accurate, and her life was hanging in the balance. Dominic stared thoughtfully into the fire for several moments and tried to marshal his whirling thoughts. Surely, he couldn’t lose her now.
A sense of unfamiliar helplessness washed over him. The memory of the rasping hollowness of her cough when she had ridden in his arms was strong. Putrid lungs could kill even a person of relatively good health, for someone as malnourished as Isobel...
Quickly closing off the macabre thought, Dominic pushed away from the hearth and strode towards the door. Suddenly, he had the pressing need to be with her and not waste even one single, precious moment.
Isobel felt weight pulling her down. Wrapped in something soft and heavy, she was unbearably hot.
Trying desperately to pull herself free, she slowly became aware of a strange noise, over and over. Her head throbbed in rhythm with the stabbing pain behind her eyes. Everything within her ached fiercely.
Her thoughts spun around and around as she fought desperately to pull herself free from the kaleidoscope of confusing colour. Shades and shapes merged, and Dominic’s beloved features appeared before her. Out of the haze, his beautiful green eyes glinted brightly as they shone lovingly at her. She could hear the soft murmur of his voice, but simply couldn’t find the strength to answer him. Her mouth wouldn’t work.
She didn’t know if she was dreaming again, but this dream felt different. There were no swirling mists through which he appeared. The kaleidoscope of colours around him made her dizzy and confused. She felt muddled, as though something was holding her down, and she just couldn’t shake it off.
“Come on now, you must drink some.”
Isobel’s drowsy gaze locked on to his beseeching look as she felt something being held against her lips. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and swallowed the warm concoction, coughing violently as it settled harshly on her cold and empty stomach. It tasted slightly salty, and warm, but other than that Isobel had no idea what he had just given her. She tried desperately to move her head away, but found herself held more firmly against the solid wall of his chest, his face mere inches from her own. Once again, something was placed against her lips.
“Please, you must drink this now,” his rich, masculine voice held a stern tone of authority that even Isobel couldn’t ignore.
She frowned, wondering what she had done to incur his wrath. Despite trying to plead with him with her eyes, she couldn’t find the strength to keep her gaze locked on his and eventually gave up, reluctantly allowing him to feed her the strange concoction until exhaustion overtook her, and she once again slipped into the darkness.
“That’s more than we have been able to get down her since yesterday Sir,” Mrs Holcombe declared, settling the blankets and sheets around the prone woman lying before them.
“It’s not enough though,” Dominic eyed Isobel’s pale face against the white cotton pillow. “She needs more if she is going to survive.”
Frustration seethed within him at the sheer helplessness of the situation. Although she was drinking the broth Cook had made her, there had been no improvement in her condition since the day she had arrived, and that had been nearly three days ago.
“I’ll sit with her for a while,” Dominic informed Mrs Holcombe, sinking into the chair beside the bed. Ignoring the women as they collected various items from around the room before eventually leaving, he picked up Isobel’s limp hand. He wondered what she had endured during her time away. Her long, tapered fingers were calloused and marked. Slowly, he trailed the sharp protrusion of the bones, following the blue veins upwards toward her wrist. No lady should have been put into the position she had. Nobody, male or female, should ever feel so desperate in their situation that life on the streets was the only way out.
Carefully lifting her hand off the sheet, he slid his fingers between hers, holding her hand palm to palm. Placing a soft kiss on the soft skin of the back of her hand, he placed their entwined hands back on the bed before him. Gently, he lay his head down next to them and allowed exhaustion to claim him.
She was alive. Now all he had to do was keep her that way.
CHAPTER FOUR
Isobel slowly became aware of wonderful softness beneath her fingertips. The soft, fine silk captured her fingers in its gentle snare, and tickled her fingertips. All of her senses locked onto the feeling as she slowly moved her fingers, feeling the silken mass swirl and shimmer in response.
“Isobel?” Suddenly, the silk was gone causing Isobel to break out of her reverie. She slowly dragged her eyes open, astonished at the sheer effort such a small movement could take.
“Dominic?” she swallowed harshly at the scratchy burning in her throat. “What? Where?” She tried to pick her head up off the pillow, only to find the energy she thought she had, evaporate like a puff of smoke.
Her chest ached, and breathing seemed such hard work.
“You are at Havistock Hall, my darling,” Dominic replied softly, giving her a gentle smile of reassurance. Quickly, he rose and tugged on the bell pull beside the bed before returning to her side. “You are perfectly safe now.”
He fought hard to control the sheer relief that surged through him, and carefully eased her off the pillows high enough to hold a cup of water to her lips. He watched as she drank greedily.
“Safe?” Isobel croaked hoarsely, wincing as the throbbing headache increased in strength. “Why does my head hurt so?” Her throat felt raw and hot.
“Because you haven’t eaten enough, and are quite poorly,” Dominic’s voice was sterner with the stark memory of the last few hours. “You must eat and rest if you are to get well again.”
Isobel took advantage of her elevated position to study the room around them. Entirely masculine in design, the dark oak panelling gleamed in the firelight. Decorated in reds, browns and golds, it was clearly Dominic’s room. Isobel frowned as she eyed the heavy marbled fireplace, and solid furniture adorning the walls.
“Do you have any idea how worried we have been for you?” His eyes scanned her pale features, tenderly tracing each new curve and hollow. Even with her hair cut unfashionably short, with her startling blue eyes she had an ensnaring beauty about her that made him wonder how she had succeeded in fooling anyone into thinking she was a boy.
“Worried?” Isobel queried, turning her gaze back to his. She had so many questions to ask; so many things she wanted to say, but at that moment couldn’t form the words.
Suddenly, she realised where she was. “I should not be here, I must leave at once,” she gritted her teeth, and tried desperately to raise herself from the bed only to have Dominic immediately push her back down, a fierce glint of reproach in his eyes.
“You are not going anywhere,” his voice was firm. “Where would you expect to go anyway?” He was curious, but determined that she wouldn’t be leaving the bed anytime soon, at least until she got her strength back.
“I don’t know,” she whispered feeling tears begin to well. “But I cannot stay.”
Misery swamped her. It was so wonderful to be close to the man whose memory was now burned into her very soul, but the joy was marred by the pain of being so close to someone who could never be hers.
“Why not?” Dominic asked, gently sitting down in the armchair beside the bed. He smoothed a few stray
strands of hair away from her face, pleased when she didn’t flinch under his touch. Her distress was clear and he wondered what had caused it.
He quickly scanned the room, looking for anything amiss that would upset her so. Moments ago she had been quite relaxed. Muddled, but at ease. Now, she seemed so uncomfortable Dominic wouldn’t have been surprised if she had jumped out of bed and ran straight out of the room.
“How long have I been here?” Isobel looked towards the window. A fine blanket of snow covered what she could see of the ground outside. The last time Isobel could remember being outside it had been windy and raining, certainly too wet for snow to settle.
“You have been here for a week now,” Dominic replied, smiling softly at her startled gasp. “It has been a very eventful week, I can tell you,” he chided softly, watching her almost guilty surprise.
“I’m sorry,” Isobel tried once again to get out of the bed. “I’ve imposed on your good nature long enough. I must leave.” She tried desperately not to show just how weak she was, and wondered how she would manage to get out of bed but felt she had to try.
“My good nature!” Dominic repeated with a frown. “What do you expect me to do Isobel? Leave you out in the cold?” His voice was incredulous.
“I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience?” Dominic lurched to his feet, and stood beside the bed as his temper rose. “What do you mean inconvenience? You are not some bloody vague relation happening by.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to anger you. I just don’t want to cause you any problems given our past -” Isobel glanced around the room at a loss to find the right words, “- association.” She ended weakly, and watched nervously as his temper rose.
If You Were Mine Page 5