by Meara Platt
She gasped, and her gaze shot straight to Ronan.
Ronan returned her bemused gaze with a steamy one of his own. “Leave us a moment, Robbie. Please.”
“I want yer promise, ye’ll keep that sheet covering you.”
“Of course, I will.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “I’m wounded, not insane. You have my word on it.”
“Well, I suppose there’s no harm then, not in yer condition. Ye have two minutes alone with her. That’s all I dare give ye. Dahlia, just shout if he does something stupid. He is no’ to be trusted around ye. I blame it on that book the two of ye have been reading. He’ll be spouting love sonnets in another moment. I’ll hit him if he does.”
Once Robbie left, she sat on the bed, her hip grazing Ronan’s hip as she sank onto the mattress. “Why are you behaving like an ill-tempered brat?”
His eyes were filled with pain, although she did not think the pain was from his physical injuries. “You didn’t say it back to me, Queen Pea.”
She took his hand and drew it to her lips. “Is this what has you so worked up you’d risk a brain hemorrhage?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Did your uncle tell you to say this?”
“No. I actually know a few big words. Some even with ancient Greek or Latin roots. Hemo means blood, and ragia means to burst or break.”
“Gad! Enough. You are arousing my sense receptacles. I think I’ll ask you to read Latin to me once I have you in my bed.”
“I am already in your bed. Have you not noticed?”
“On my bed is altogether different than in my bed. In means me doing all sorts of wicked things to your delectable, bluestocking body while you surrender to my irresistible prowess. On means you’re primly perched atop my bed with your lips pinched and about to berate me, as you are doing now. It does not count.”
“You are quite irascible, you know.”
“Kiss me, Queen Pea.”
“All right. Stop talking long enough for me to place my mouth on yours.” She bent forward and planted a soft but heartfelt kiss on his lips. “I love you, Ronan Brayden,” she said in a broken whisper once she’d pulled away. “There. You’ve had your kiss and my admission of love. Will you behave now?”
“Not a chance in hell. Do you mean it? Do you love me?”
She nodded. “Hopelessly, you wickedly handsome clot.”
“I love you, too.” He caressed her cheek. “Now tell me how you are doing. What have you been up to while I’ve been gone?”
She nibbled her lip, not wanting to add to his concerns. “The Duke of Stoke introduced me to his daughter. She and I are going to redecorate his study.”
Ronan groaned. “There’s a big but hidden in there somewhere. I can feel the sudden tension in your hand.”
“The duke wants me to help him with his daughter. He knows you are not the man she has her heart set on. And she has finally admitted there is no marquess.”
“That is good, isn’t it?” He studied her features. “Bollocks, what’s the problem?”
“The but is...I think I know who it is she loves.” She sighed. “And here’s the bigger but...the duke will never approve of the man. How can I tell the duke his name? It would be betraying Lady Melinda. I know that using you to further her deception wasn’t right, but I truly believe she never meant to hurt you. And yet, if I don’t tell her father...and he finds out I knew all along, he will take it out on you.”
He caressed her cheek again. “Queen Pea, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Says the man who is lying helpless in bed right now after almost getting himself killed in Tilbury.” She sighed. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
They spoke no more as Robbie marched back in with her uncle close on his heels. “Let’s get back to it, shall we?” Uncle George said, shooting both of them a warning frown. “Dahlia, why don’t you take a seat over there?” He pointed toward one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth.
“No.” Ronan was not at all in agreement with the arrangement.
“Seems my presence has done nothing to cure his stubbornness.” But Dahlia was not really put off by Ronan’s highhandedness. An enveloping warmth flowed through her as she realized her importance to this magnificent man. She still did not understand why he wanted her, but it seemed he did, and she was not going to toss his gift of love away. “I’ll draw up a chair on the other side of the bed. This way, I’ll still be close enough to take his hand...if he intends to continue being a big baby about this important medical examination.”
Ronan chuckled, but even that small laugh brought him pain. “Indulged and insulted at the same time. You are a marvel, Queen Pea. Will you take my hand now? You know you already have my heart.”
“Uncle George, is he drugged?”
Her uncle was smirking. “If you consider love a drug, then yes. Otherwise, no. I’ve given him nothing yet.”
“Should I do as he asks?” She awaited his instruction, reluctant to interfere with whatever he needed to do.
Examining Ronan thoroughly was most important. Once her uncle was done, she would take his hand and hold it for as long as he wished. But Uncle George was in charge now.
“Go ahead, Dahlia. I’ll let you know when you are in the way.”
She took Ronan’s blistered hand in both of hers and ran her thumbs in slow circles over it. His attention remained on her as he was poked and prodded, on occasion painfully. However, her uncle was doing his best not to purposely hurt him.
The oddest feeling came over her as Ronan continued to look at her. She could only describe this feeling as one of permanence. Perhaps forever was a better word for it. That he would love her forever. That he would desire her forever.
That she was in his heart forever.
She squeezed his hand lightly and smiled at him, hoping he understood the feeling was reciprocated. He was still staring at her as he spoke to her uncle. “Patch me up as best as you can. There is something important I must do tomorrow.”
Her uncle groaned. “You are to stay in bed tomorrow. What is it about my instructions you do not understand?”
“I understand them perfectly. But I need to marry your niece as soon as possible and must obtain the special license first.”
“Need to? Dahlia, what in blazes–”
“Uncle George! No!”
“Want to,” Ronan said, correcting himself. “The need is my own. I cannot bear to be apart from her a moment longer. Since I am forced to lie abed anyway, why can I not make the most of it?”
Dahlia wanted to smack him over the head with a pillow. But she dared not do him any more harm. She released his hand and rose to stand over him. “You have declared it as fact. You have made plans and decisions on your own. You have assumed my answer. But you haven’t actually asked me yet. What game are you playing? Why won’t you simply ask me straight out?”
She was taken aback by the pain evident in his eyes, and immediately wished she could take back her words.
“How can you think I would ever trifle with your affections? It isn’t a game for me.” He emitted a ragged breath. “I haven’t asked you straight out because...I’m afraid you’ll refuse me.”
“Oh, Ronan.”
“I know it’s too soon for you, Queen Pea. You’ve hardly had the chance to get over Wainscott.”
“Get over him?” She shook her head and emitted an exasperated laugh. “I have been giving thanks every day since he did me the favor of dumping me. I may have felt heartbroken in those first few days afterward. But even in my lowest state, my deepest misery, I knew I was well rid of him.”
His gaze turned hopeful. “Is that true?”
“More important, I have been giving thanks every day that you are in my life. I held back telling you because I didn’t want you to think I was a fickle, frivolous girl. But if ever you were to walk out of my life, that is a heartbreak I would never get over.”
“Are you certain, sweetheart?”
“It is rushed,
I will agree. Under normal circumstances, I would insist upon waiting.” Her eyes began to tear, and her voice became shaky because she was too overwhelmed to remain composed. “You almost died in Tilbury. I could have lost you. My heart would never have recovered from this.”
Robbie groaned, reminding them others were also in the room. “Bloody hell, just ask her already. That bloody book has ye both babbling like idjits.”
Ronan glared back at him. “How about a little privacy here?”
Her uncle was shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He was used to this by now. Falling in love with a Farthingale was a dangerous proposition in many ways, the most obvious being the physical danger. How many times had her uncle come to the rescue of these injured swains?
Robbie was more obvious in his impatience. “Ye had yer chance in the two minutes I gave ye earlier. Ye wasted it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are ye waiting for? Stop dawdling and ask her.”
Ronan turned to her apologetically. “This is not at all how I wished it to be.”
She took his hand in hers again. “Just say it already, or I’ll think you don’t really mean it.”
“Blessed saints! I’ve never meant anything more in my life.” He tried to roll to a sitting position and sank back in agony. “Ow, that hurt. Oh, bollocks. That still hurts. Dr. Farthingale...” The last came out in an alarming wheeze. “I think my lungs are about to rupture.”
Suddenly, no one was grinning. “Robbie, get Dahlia out of here. Now!”
“Uncle George, what’s happening?” She felt as though her legs were about to collapse from under her. But she held herself together with sheer force of will. Ronan was the one in dire straits and in need of her uncle’s full attention.
“Those tow ropes did damage to his rib cage. One of his ribs may have just cracked and punctured a lung.”
Dahlia fainted.
When she awoke, she found herself in Holly’s parlor, sprawled atop the settee. Her sisters were staring at her, their brows furrowed in worry. “Ronan? How is he?”
Holly brushed a hand lightly over her forehead. “Joshua and Robbie are back up with him now. I don’t know how much help they will be to Uncle George, but they needed to be upstairs with him.”
“I need to be with him, too.”
Heather was in tears. “You will, but not now. Ronan forgets how badly he’s injured when he is with you. You make him feel invincible. He’s fortunate he only has a punctured lung. Uncle George is still optimistic that he’ll recover. He says it is not life-threatening when properly treated.”
Dahlia shut her eyes tightly as a shudder ran through her. “Thank goodness. Holly, is love always this difficult? He was attempting to propose to me when it happened. Perhaps this is an omen. I’m bad for him, and we shouldn’t be married.”
Holly cupped Dahlia’s face in her hands. “Don’t you dare think like that. Viscount Hawley’s idiocy caused this, not you. If anything, you are giving him strength and hope through his ordeal. He loves you so much that despite his injuries, he had to come home to be near you. This is the most precious gift anyone can bestow on you. Don’t you dare spurn it.”
Her sister was now squeezing her cheeks so that her lips were bunched like those of an openmouthed trout. “You can let go of me,” she said. “I wasn’t going to spurn him. I love him. Will you stop squeezing my face?”
“Move over.” Holly nudged her legs aside to settle on the settee beside her. “You must understand you are doing him no favor by deciding what is best for him. I never understood what love meant until I met Joshua. The two of you simply cannot be without each other. This is why he’s behaving like a child, throwing a tantrum. He needs you by his side. He will move heaven and earth to make it happen. So, do not make it difficult for him. If you love him...”
“I do.”
“Then marry him and stay by his side.”
Heather was weeping again.
Holly went over to their younger sister. “Not you, too? Why are you crying?”
“I want to find a love like the two of you have found.”
“You will,” Holly said, giving her a hug. “Don’t be impatient for it, or you will make the same mistakes Dahlia and I made. Wanting to be in love is not at all the same as truly falling in love with the right man. I jumped into a hasty marriage and was not happy. Dahlia convinced herself that Wainscott was the man for her even though he’d done little to prove it.”
Heather shook her head. “But he wrote her all those adoring letters.”
“Anyone can do that. Was he ever there when Dahlia really needed him? Was he ready to put her desires ahead of his own? Would he ever risk his life to protect her? Ronan would.”
Heather dabbed a handkerchief to her cheeks. “How am I to find a man like that? You two got the last of the Brayden men. Who’s going to love and protect me like this?”
“Och, Heather. Why are ye still crying, lass?” Robbie was standing in the doorway, filling it with his size and brawn. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at the three of them.
Dahlia sat up. “How is Ronan?”
“Better. Yer uncle’s done all he needs to do for now. He’s given Ronan some laudanum, but he isn’t permitted to take too much. Will ye go upstairs to him before he does something stupid again?”
She nodded. “I’ll go right now.”
“What can we do to help?” Heather asked.
Robbie stared at her. “Stop crying, for one thing. Help Holly with whatever she needs to do. Joshua’s about to ride off to tell his brothers and Miranda. I’ll be riding out to report to the Lord Admiral and Lord Liverpool. Parliament will not convene until Monday, but those two need to be kept current on all that’s happened. The Marquess of Tilbury has assured Josh and Ronan he’ll be giving a favorable report, but who knows with these noblemen? Some of them will say and do whatever is to their advantage. Although, Tilbury is one of the better ones. He’s always been fair in his dealings with me.”
Heather patted away the last of her tears. “Will you come back here afterward, Robbie?”
“Aye, pixie. Ronan is one of my best friends. I will no’ abandon him.”
Dahlia hurried upstairs while her sisters remained talking to Robbie. She encountered Joshua on the stairs, but he paused only long enough to mutter that he was riding off to tell the family and would be back shortly.
Her uncle had closed his medical bag and had just finished washing his hands when she walked in. He dried them on one of the washcloths. “I should tell you it is most improper for you to be in here alone with Captain Brayden. But since my words of warning have held no sway whatsoever over any of my nieces throughout the years, I’ll spare you the lecture.”
“Thank you, Uncle George. Not about sparing me the lecture, but saving Ronan’s life. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this.”
He picked up his medical bag, then walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “It is what I do. Nothing is required in return. Just be happy. And follow my instructions as I’ve written them.” He pointed to the note he’d left on the night table beside Ronan’s bed. “Tonight will be rough for him. Send for me immediately if he begins to struggle for breath. I’ll be at home with Evie.”
She hugged him. “Give her my love.”
“I will.” He strode out, leaving her alone with Ronan.
The first thing she did was read the note her uncle had left for them. It seemed simple enough, so after perusing it, she set it back down and turned her attention to this man she loved.
The handsome brute was stretched out in the middle of the bed, his eyes closed, and his arms at his sides. His back was propped up by several pillows. The covers were drawn up only far enough to cover his body to his waist. His chest was exposed, and she could see that her uncle had placed an unguent across the length of the rope burn, no doubt applying the foul-smelling substance to his flesh to prevent infection.
She sat beside Ronan on the bed and took his hand onto her lap.
His eyes flickered open, and he cast her a gentle smile. “Queen Pea, I missed you.”
She laughed. “I was only gone a few minutes.” Perhaps it was longer. She could not tell for certain how long she’d been unconscious. Her sisters would have been frantic if she had been out for more than a minute or two, so she doubted it was any longer than that.
“I still owe you a marriage proposal. Let me get this right before something else happens.” His voice was little more than a raw whisper. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes, my love. I will marry you.”
His smile broadened. “I’ll try to obtain the special license as soon as possible. My brothers will help me since I’m not allowed out of bed for another three days on pain of death...my death, or so your uncle warned if I don’t lie still.”
“I’m sure Tynan and Finn will be able to accomplish this on your behalf. They have connections to everyone important in London.” She cast him an impish smirk. “Just remind them my name is Dahlia, not Queen Pea.”
“I think they’ll figure it out for themselves. I love you, sweetheart. Will you marry me tomorrow if I obtain it?”
She inhaled lightly. How was this possible? He couldn’t get out of bed. “You don’t waste time once your mind is made up, do you?”
“Is that a yes?”
“Uncle John is my guardian while I am here in London. My parents have given him authority over all decisions, so I assume it includes giving his consent and signing the betrothal contract.”
“Bollocks, I’ll sign a blank piece of paper. He can fill in any terms he likes.”
“You will put Finn’s heart in spasms if he ever hears you speaking so foolishly. It doesn’t have to be a formal agreement. But you have to think this through, Ronan. You can agree on the general terms and seal it with a handshake.”
“I want you. That is my only term. I still don’t have your answer. Will you marry me tomorrow?”
If she agreed, then she would deprive herself of the elegant wedding she’d always dreamed of having. Nor would there be time to put together an informal affair hosted by her aunt and uncle at their home on Chipping Way. The ceremony would have to be quick, held right here, with Ronan lying in bed while she stood beside him.