by Laura Landon
Caleb pulled his pistol from his pocket and stepped into the open. “Stop what you’re doing, and step away from the bottles.”
Surprise was evident on the man’s face. He recognized Caleb, and Caleb recognized him from that first afternoon confrontation. This was Blackboot’s man. For a moment it seemed as though he was going to follow Caleb’s orders. Very slowly the man lifted his hands as if in surrender, then reached into his waistband, pulled out a knife, spun to the side and threw it.
Caleb felt a burning sensation in his thigh. He fired his gun, and the man went down.
“Captain!”
“Here, Jamie.”
Caleb dropped to the ground. The knife was still in his thigh, but he knew better than to pull it out before he tied something tight above the wound.
“Are you hurt, Captain?”
“A knife wound. Do you have something I can tie around my thigh?” From the amount of blade that had disappeared into his leg, Caleb knew it was solidly lodged in the bone.
“I do,” Lady Eleanor said, then Caleb heard the sound of ripping fabric. A moment later, she handed Jamie the ruffle from her petticoat.
“This is going to hurt, Captain,” Jamie said as he tied it tightly around Caleb’s thigh.
Caleb grimaced, but he’d anticipated the pain. This wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. He watched Jamie tighten the length of ruffling and looked up to see Lady Eleanor’s worried face.
“It’s the height of fashion in tourniquets, don’t you think?” His voice sounded more feeble than he’d hoped, but he was able to hold his grin.
Her brows arched and then her lips twitched. “One might even say my petticoat has never looked better.’
He waited for the blush, but it never came. The good lady had just made a bit of an improper joke and was not even embarrassed by it. There seemed to be all manner of surprises tonight.
“Can you get up?” Jamie asked.
“Yes, but first check to make sure our intruder is dead.”
Jamie ran to the man on the ground, then hurried back. “He’s dead.”
“Good. Now give me your arm.”
Jamie looped Caleb’s arm around his shoulder and hefted him to his feet.
Before he took his first step, Lady Eleanor stepped to his other side and placed his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll send for Dr. Norman.”
Thankfully, several men who’d heard the gunshot came on a run. One fellow took over supporting Caleb, and two others were sent to collect the firebombs. And the dead body. And to check that the man had no cohorts.
Caleb hobbled between them to the manor house, praying that the weakness he felt in his chest wouldn’t overtake his whole body. By the time they reached his room, the men helping him were almost forced to carry him. The relief he felt when they placed him on the bed was quickly replaced by excruciating pain when they lifted his leg. Several servants entered with water, cloths, and bandages, and shortly after, the doctor arrived. He walked to the bed and looked at the knife sticking out of Caleb’s thigh.
“You must be this captain the children constantly tell me about,” he said, taking a knife from his medical bag and cutting the material of Caleb’s pants away from his leg.
“Yes, sir,” Caleb answered on a raspy breath.
“Well, at least you’ve given me something far more challenging than a cut knee that needs to be stitched or a broken arm that needs to be set.”
“Glad to oblige, doctor.” Caleb dug his head into the pillow as the doctor continued to work on his leg.
“My lady, would you happen to have some whiskey handy?” the doctor asked without lifting his gaze from Caleb’s leg.
It took only a moment for her to make it appear.
“You don’t need to stay, my lady,” he said, not wanting her to leave him, yet wanting her gone. His earlier humor had fled and now all he wanted was to get past the pain. He followed his comment with a large gulp of whiskey.
“I have no intention of going anywhere.” To emphasize her point, she stepped closer to the bed and knelt beside him. Then she reached for his hand.
“You two hold him down,” the doctor ordered two servants who were still in the room. “And you hold his leg,” he said to a third.
Strong hands pushed against Caleb’s shoulders and leg.
“This is going to hurt,” Dr. Norman said, then placed a belt around Caleb’s thigh and pulled it tight. When he had the strap firmly in place, he pulled the knife free.
Caleb bolted, but strong hands held him in place.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and a cool cloth wiped the rivers of wetness from his face. He turned his head and caught Lady Eleanor’s concerned gaze. Then he closed his eyes and let the whiskey deliver its soothing balm.
. . .
The captain was sitting on the side of the bed the next morning when Lady Eleanor arrived with the cane she’d hunted up for him. He wore a white shirt and black trousers. His hair had been combed and was tied at the nape of his neck with a leather band. His shirt was tucked in at his waist, and Carruthers had helped get his boots on his feet. But he wasn’t wearing a frock coat or a jacket.
He looked threateningly handsome.
“Did getting dressed wear you out enough that you want to go back to bed?”
“No, it wore me out enough to convince me that I refuse to waste the effort of dressing without walking around the grounds at least once.”
“Perhaps we’ll start with the room, shall we?”
“The room,” he griped as he braced on the edge of the bed. “All right. The room.”
Eleanor walked to his side and handed him the cane. She placed his arm over her shoulders, then waited for him to lift himself to his feet. He rose, stood long enough to gain his balance, then took one tentative step toward the opposite side of the room.
The cane helped to steady him as he took one step after another. Eleanor was surprised at how little he leaned against her—only enough to keep him steady. In no time, he made it to the opposite side of the room.
“Would you like to rest for a bit?” she asked when they reached a cushioned chair beneath the window.
“I believe I shall remain upright, my lady.”
“Excellent. Then stand in front of the window for a moment. I have a surprise for you.”
The draperies were already pulled and the window open a little. Eleanor opened it wider and helped him to stand close enough that he could look out at the children standing below.
“Hello, Captain!” they called out when they saw him.
Captain Parker dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed. Then he leaned out the window and waved. “Hello!” he answered back.
The children waved and hollered, wishing him a speedy recovery so he could join them in their games.
“I bet I can beat you now,” Robby called.
“In your dreams, lollygagger,” he yelled back, and the yard erupted in laughter.
After they wished him a final farewell, they were shooed back to their play. The captain turned to face her. “Thank you,” he said, clearly touched. “That was exactly what I needed.”
“I thought you’d enjoy hearing from them. They ask about you every hour, it seems. They miss you.” She held his gaze for several moments, then focused on the chair beneath the window. “Would you like to rest for a moment?”
He shook his head. “How can I rest after such encouragement? You heard them. There’s a game of catch waiting for me.”
“Never you mind, Captain. They’ll learn patience.”
“But why should they have to?”
Eleanor laughed and turned to the door. At the same moment, Caleb turned, and they awkwardly brushed shoulders.
“I’m sorry, I was just going to the door.”
Caleb smiled. “Me too. After you, duchess.”
“But you—” She gestured toward the bed.
“I think a good trip down the stairs is just what the doctor ordered,” he grinned.
“You can’t possibly!”
“Watch me.”
Caleb walked to the door with scarcely a limp, but when he turned to let her go through first, she saw the grimace on his face. He was going to use that leg if it killed him, so she may as well stay close enough to assist if need be.
Eleanor swept through the door and moved to the head of the stairs, expecting to turn and wait for him to join her. But he was just a step behind her, the pain and determination screwing his features into something that very nearly made her chuckle.
“Oh, do give it up, Captain. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll—”
But he would have nothing to do with waiting until tomorrow, and step by lurching step he began to make his way down the first set of stairs. She tried not to hear his small groans, but the effort he was expending just to show he was able bodied moved her deeply.
When she very nearly could bear no more, they reached the bottom step before the grand landing. He gripped the newel post so fiercely that his knuckles were white, and, drawing in a long breath, he took his final step down.
But it was too much for the injured muscle, which finally gave way and pitched him forward. He grabbed for the wall and caught Eleanor instead, and together they tumbled onto the half-round green velvet ottoman that graced the wall of the broad landing. It was framed by elaborate drapery, which somehow managed to stay in place despite their grappling with it to break their fall.
“Oh my!” Eleanor cried, and threw out an arm to stop from rolling off the ottoman. But the movement only succeeded in throwing her directly into Caleb’s arms, in turn pinning him in place on the ottoman and saving his injured leg from a brutal landing on the hard floor or a tumble down the remaining set of stairs.
Their hearts slammed into one another as they struggled to catch their breath.
“Well now, duchess,” Caleb whispered. “I believe you saved my neck.”
She looked up into his face, which had come alive with the contrary looks of both success and embarrassment. “I’m delighted to have been of service, Captain,” she answered, except in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. It was breathless and softer than she’d intended.
Their gazes locked. And held. Then his focus dropped to her lips.
He was going to kiss her. She knew he was as certainly as she knew she should leap from the ottoman so he wouldn’t. Except she couldn’t. She’d never wanted anything so dearly in her life.
He lowered his head, and his mouth took possession of hers. Instead of pushing him away, Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer.
Their lips touched, then his mouth opened above hers. She knew what he wanted and gave it willingly.
His tongue entered her mouth, and she met his advances as a defending army protecting her castle. Except her goal wasn’t to stop him from entering but to invite him in.
Tongues touched, battled, then each won a victory that threw them into mindless abandon.
Eleanor couldn’t give enough to him. She couldn’t take enough from him.
Their breathing became harsh and labored. With each deepened kiss, she felt less in control than before.
She was afraid where this would take them. It had been so long. For years she’d pretended she didn’t miss this part of a relationship. That she could live her life without a man’s touch. Without the intimacy that only a man could provide. But by all that was holy, she not only missed being loved, she craved it. She wanted nothing more than to be loved again, but not just by any man. By only this man. By only Captain Caleb Parker.
That realization tore her heart from her breast, and she pulled away from him as if his touch scorched her. She couldn’t allow it. She could never let herself forget that she wasn’t the woman she’d once been. She had nothing to offer a man.
Eleanor struggled to her feet and rushed back up the stairs. She heard him call her name, but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t run far enough, or fast enough, from the pain of knowing what she would never have again.
Chapter 9
She avoided him the next week, the same as Caleb avoided her. He’d struggled back up to his room that day, growling beneath his breath that she’d abandoned him just when he needed her most.
But as hard as Caleb tried not to think of her, he couldn’t put her out of his mind. He couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared. Or what that kiss told him: she was a very passionate woman and was starved for love.
Caleb was realistic enough to know that he could never be the person a countess, much less the granddaughter of a duke, could love. But even if he could never profess his love for Lady Eleanor, that didn’t mean he could never love her. He would simply have to keep his love for her to himself.
Caleb finished dressing, grateful that he no longer had to hop about the room keeping the weight off the injured leg. He’d worked hard to regain his strength, and with the help of his cane, he was able to walk with little pain. It was time he took his turn watching the grounds. Time he accompanied Lady Eleanor to London to rescue any children Granny Carver might have found.
The men who’d come to patrol the grounds were sharp and congenial and gave him the sense of security he would expect. But how long would they stay if things remained as tame as they had? On the one hand he thanked God for that. On the other, he needed this crisis to come to a head so he could put it to rest once and for all.
Caleb made his way through the kitchen, and after greeting Cook and her helpers, he exited through the back entrance and walked out to where the children were playing.
He’d missed them, and even though groups of the children had come to walk with him every day, it wasn’t like being with them while they played. It wasn’t the same as when they ran to him and clamored for his unique brand of tumble and toss.
He walked around the corner of the manor house and caught sight of the children, and for several unobserved moments he was able to watch them before he was spotted.
“Captain!” one of the children shouted.
Before he could shout a reply, a group of about twenty ran toward him.
“Captain! Captain! You’re here!”
“Have you come to play ball with us?”
“Are you all weller today?”
“Watch how far I can throw the ball, Captain.”
En masse, the children gathered around and hugged him.
He thought he’d experienced just about everything life had to offer, but he’d never experienced this. It was so full of joy. So grand.
“Children,” she said from behind the raucous jumble. “Do be careful. Captain Parker is still recovering.”
The children stopped jumping up and down in the excitement, but they still remained close.
Lady Eleanor’s voice skimmed over him like wind from beneath a dove’s wing, and he turned to face her. This was the first time he’d seen her since they’d shared the kiss. His heart began to skitter and jump, as if it might grow large enough to fill his entire chest. He’d never felt like this before. And he knew he always would whenever he saw her.
“Show me how far you can throw the ball, Robby,” he said, struggling to break the effect she had on him.
The children ran to the open lawn and took turns showing him how much they’d improved since he’d been injured.
“Come sit,” she said, leading him to a bench beneath a large shade tree.
She shifted the small babe she carried, and the child cooed.
“Mistress Molly?” Caleb asked. But he knew it was the child the moment he saw her bright blue eyes peering out from the blanket.
“Yes, would you like to hold her?”
He needed no encouragement but took the tiny bundle from Lady Eleanor. He kept his eyes focused on the babe as he sat, but that didn’t mean it was she who occupied his mind. He was able to think of nothing but Eleanor when he was this close to her.
“You appear to be doing much better,” she said.
“I am. I’m healing.” He
tugged the blanket away from the child and cradled her. Her tiny fists waved as if she wanted to touch him but couldn’t quite get her little arms to cooperate.
“Good.”
“I’ve missed you.” The words just came out of their own accord.
“Don’t,” she answered without turning her gaze to him.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Eleanor.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have reacted as I did.”
A strange silence stretched between them, broken only by Caleb’s occasional bits of jabber with the infant.
“Can you forget what happened if I give you my word that I will never kiss you again?” He turned his head toward Lady Eleanor, needing to see her unguarded reaction to his words.
Her gaze dropped to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. “You know that’s impossible.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Caleb shifted the child to lie across his knees, and without prompting she grasped his forefingers with her tiny fingers. Hanging on to him. Finding in him her courage to look up at the world. He wished Eleanor would look at him like that. Find her courage in him. “So what do you suggest we do?”
Lady Eleanor breathed a deep sigh that indicated the same agonizing emotions he felt. “I suggest we continue as we had been before the . . . well, before.”
“I suppose that’s our only choice,” he answered without looking at her. “Although that will take a great deal of effort on my part.”
Eleanor rose to her feet. “An effort I’m sure you will manage,” she said, then turned toward the house.
“Yes, an effort I’m sure we’ll both manage,” he whispered to himself. When hell freezes over.
. . .
Eleanor put on her cloak and bonnet, then left the manor house. The carriage was waiting, and Willie was already on the driver’s bench.
It was Thursday night. This was the second time she’d have to go to London without Captain Parker. She should have been relieved that he wasn’t well enough to go and she wouldn’t have to guard her emotions, but after the lecture he’d given her when she went last Thursday without telling him, she knew she was treading on thin ice.