A Hero to Hold

by Sheri Humphreys

She’d seen the box. “Your father sent it to the office.”

  Her brows rose and she slowly pulled the box to her. She tugged the ribbon free and lifted the lid. “My favorite.”

  She sounded amazed, so David looked inside. The box was full of fudge, the color of cream and chunky with dried fruit. The sweet scent of almond and coconut wafted up.

  “You’re surprised?” he asked.

  “He’s never sent me candy. And I’m surprised he knows my favorite.”

  “Perhaps he’s more aware of your likes and dislikes than you know. And perhaps he’s more thoughtful. He must have heard about your misadventure.”

  Charlotte picked the box up, examined it, and looked at David. “Of course there’s no note. He wouldn’t take the time to write one. He probably didn’t purchase the candy himself, either.”

  “But he did know your favorite,” David reminded her. “A footman delivered it yesterday and said it was for Lady Haliday from Mr. Shelby.”

  Charlotte picked up a square of the candy and offered it. David shook his head.

  She brought it to her mouth, bit it in half and began to chew. “Mmmm.” Her eyes drifted closed. She swallowed, smiled, and moved close to him. She pressed moist, open lips to his, and when her tongue stroked his, sweetness flooded his mouth.

  “Mmmm,” he echoed, and sucked lightly.

  This time, when their lips parted he pushed her from his lap, tilted his head in the direction of the bedroom and assumed a questioning expression. She stood and headed there, nibbling the remainder of the candy piece as she went.

  He entered the bedroom as she sank down on the edge of the bed, a troubled look flashing across her face. She moistened her lips and twisted her hands together.

  “I’ve got to talk to you first.”

  Unease oozed through him, and he rolled suddenly tense shoulders. A moment ago they’d been clinging to each other. Now she sat before him, stiff and reluctant. He wished she’d look at him, but her downcast gaze hid her eyes.

  He moved his chair close and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He reached out as if she were a trapped, injured animal, and he cupped his hands around hers. Then he forced his voice to sound ordinary, which turned out to be a Herculean task. “What’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath and finally looked at him. Her eyes relieved him somewhat. Anxiety shone in their depths, but her desire hadn’t abated.

  “I wasn’t planning to say anything just yet, but I…” She dropped her head.

  The knot twisting his gut tightened. He hated seeing her so at odds, and just what in bloody hell was so difficult for her to say? He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “How can I help, Bluebell?”

  She seemed to gather herself. Her chin came up, and she faced him again. “We haven’t spoken much of the future, and I think we should.”

  “You have concerns?” Clearly, she did.

  “My feelings for you have grown deeper than I ever thought possible or expected. And I’m concerned you might feel the same way.”

  She was concerned he might feel… Thank God he’d had the good sense not to confess the love he felt!

  Her words came out with a rush of air. “I’m worried you’ll end up being hurt.”

  Of course he’d end up being hurt. He’d always known that. Straightening, he retained hold of her hands. “What brought this on?”

  The space between her brows creased. She drew a deep breath. “Wakefield told me about your engagement. That you became despondent when it ended.”

  That hit him like a cricket bat to the chest. He released her hands and leaned back. “You’ve discussed this with Wakefield?”

  “No. I mean—oh, he was only trying to help. We didn’t fool him for a minute, and he feared I’d be careless of your feelings. It happened the day he took me home.”

  His jaw ached, the way he clamped his teeth before he forced enough relaxation to permit speech. “Contrary to appearances, Wakefield is not my mother.” How many times had he laughed and said the same thing to Miles himself? But this was no joke.

  Charlotte steepled her fingers and held them to her mouth. “A fiancée? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  David dragged his hand down his face. “Lydia and the end of our engagement is all wrapped up with my injury and being in this chair the rest of my life. In the beginning it was hell. All of it. Once I became determined to live—not exist, but live—I didn’t want to dwell on what I’d lost.”

  “Is she the reason you decided not to ever marry?”

  “Not in the way you mean. I’m not harboring a love for Lydia, but the way she changed when she realized I’d never walk again did convince me I wasn’t fit for marriage.

  Charlotte leaned forward, her expression impassioned. “You are. You should marry. You’re such a good man, and you have so much to give.” She slapped her palm to the armrest of his chair. “This won’t matter to a woman who loves you.”

  Ah, Charlotte, little Bluebell… She was tearing herself up, worrying about him.

  He spoke before she could add more. “I could say the same to you. You may doubt it, but I know you still have the capacity to love. I’ve seen you with the Fund children. You love them. And these deep feelings you say you have for me…you may not love me, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t love another man.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t think I can trust a man enough to let myself love him. I trusted Haliday like I trust the sun to rise tomorrow.” She rolled her lips inward then released them. “He betrayed me. Broke something inside me. Others may be able to love without complete trust, but I can’t. How can I surrender my heart? Give someone such absolute power over me?”

  Her hands gripped together, fingers interlocked and squeezing. “David, you deserve my trust. There’s nothing more you could do to convince me you are worthy. But I’m too afraid to surrender. And I know it’s not fair to you.”

  She spread her fingertips across her forehead and rubbed. Her hands dropped and she shrugged. “I’m afraid you’ll fall in love with me and be hurt when I’m unable to love you back. I’m ashamed to admit it, but in the beginning I wasn’t thinking about you. Only myself. And now…well, I would die if I hurt you.”

  The cricket bat gave him another wallop. She didn’t love him? And she couldn’t trust him? No. Everything in him rejected that. He didn’t believe it. She’d been too open, too giving. She did trust him. She just couldn’t admit it. Which put them in a hell of a bind. She had just as much risk of being hurt by him.

  Except, he wouldn’t ever intentionally do anything to hurt her.

  “Come here,” he said. He grasped her waist and urged her over. She seemed a bit reluctant, but once settled on his lap she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed the side of her face against his. He pulled her in tight.

  She spoke, her voice steel under velvet. “Perhaps we shouldn’t continue to meet.”

  David said nothing. Charlotte clearly wasn’t ready to risk her heart again. But if her primary concern was hurting him…well, weren’t his feelings his own affair? He had no intention of ending their liaison. Was it so impossible that two people who didn’t wish to marry could find happiness living as he and Charlotte had for the past few weeks?

  She was still waiting for an answer. He hugged her close. Christ, but she felt good in his arms.

  “You don’t need to worry, Charlotte. My heart’s safe.”

  She sat up. Cupped his face. Studied him. “Promise me. Promise you won’t fall in love with me.”

  Damn and blast! He was going to have to tell her an outright lie. How absurd this all was. He hesitated. She didn’t think she could trust, yet right this moment trust shone from her. And he was going to be an absolute bastard and take advantage of that fragile, fledgling emotion. How could he not? It was what they both wanted.

  “David?”

  He grasped her head, pulled her to him and kissed her, hard. He mustn’t let her see his face. He k
ept her close, rested his lips against her temple. “I promise, Charlotte. I promise.”

  They shared lusty kisses until the confines of his chair became too restrictive. Transferring to the bed, he opened his trousers, lifted her atop him, and gathered up her copious skirts. He helped her straddle him and ran his hands over her slim, strong thighs and curvaceous buttocks. Desperate, he parted the slit in her drawers and pressed his finger into her tight, slick heat. She gasped, clutched his upper arms and squeaked his name.

  The compulsion to mate with her raged, a wildfire beyond control. There was no mistaking she’d never been atop her husband, but she understood his intent when he raised her, and she joined with him eagerly. Her eyes went wide, then drifted closed as she sank down and buried him in her depths. That wet heat gripped him and he nearly exploded.

  Her eyes opened, dark with wonder, and she bent and delivered a searing kiss with a power he’d previously only guessed at. He ceded control of their lovemaking to Charlotte, but he held her hips and helped guide her. He capitulated to the bliss of that escalating passion which had them devouring each other’s mouths.

  Their clothing and hair grew damp, their coupling more forceful. He murmured her name and praised her, the marvel of their joining robbing him of rational thought. Her body rocked and surged until they both strained and blew like galloping horses. It took everything in him to hold back until he felt her go over, her body gripping his shaft with powerful spasms. He surrendered and let his release wring him until he was limp, and a lingering, soul-deep pleasure filled him.

  #

  Sometime later he watched Charlotte retrieve the bag she’d brought, withdraw a silk robe from its recesses and begin unbuttoning her bodice. Somehow the conversation about the sad state of their hearts had led to the most urgent lovemaking he’d ever experienced, accomplished without them even pausing to remove their clothing. It had been incredible.

  David propped himself against the pillows and settled in to watch Charlotte. He’d also brought a small bag. They’d planned to stay this evening and all of Sunday while the Fund offices were closed. Charlotte had told her butler she was staying overnight at a house party.

  David was enjoying the view of her corseted bosom when she slipped out of her bodice. A saucer-sized, dark purple bruise marked her upper arm.

  He sat up. “Charlotte. My God. Come here, sweetheart.”

  “It’s fine. It’s just from my fall.”

  She came to the bed and stood before him in chemise, corset and petticoats. He’d known the footpad slammed into her, and Wakefield had said she hit the ground hard, but he’d never dreamed… “Are there others like this?”

  Charlotte made a little grimace. “Hand me my robe?” she said as she untied her petticoats and let them drop. Her corset followed.

  She untied her drawers and stepped out of them, leaving her in nothing but her chemise. Slipping her arms into the ruby-red robe, she left it open and then slid her chemise up, exposing one long, shapely leg. A huge purple bruise marked her hip.

  Stunned, David berated himself for the vigorous lovemaking they’d just enjoyed. “Did I hurt you? Why didn’t you say something?”

  She let the robe fall and drew the lapels together. “No, David, you didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

  “Is that all of it?”

  She nodded and tied the robe’s sash. “Except for my hands.” She held those up, palms out, displaying the purplish discolorations. He’d been aware of those.

  She climbed back onto the bed. “Here,” she said, starting to unbutton his shirt, “let’s get rid of this.” A moment later she pulled it over his head, drew it from his arms and tossed it aside. “There.” She snuggled next to him. “That’s better.”

  He slid down onto his back and pulled her close. “I knew you fell hard, but I had no idea it was forceful enough to cause that kind of bruising.”

  He ran his hand up and down her spine, his hand gliding over the silk. He couldn’t help gently exploring the warm curve of her waist and buttocks. She was so finely made. He skimmed the pads of his fingers over the knobs that ran the length of her spine and the little valleys between her ribs. Damn it. He knew he should have gone to see her after the assault. What would it matter if he’d had to have Boone carry him in? He’d let his pride keep him away and hadn’t even realized how badly she’d been injured!

  Rage tore through him, and he closed his eyes. Sod the bloody bastard! What he wouldn’t give to have hold of that bugger for five minutes.

  “He must have smashed into you with an incredible impact.” Why had he done that? Snatching a reticule off an unsuspecting woman’s arm wouldn’t require much strength. What if her head had hit the ground with that much force? It might have killed her. David hugged Charlotte a little closer.

  “I believe he plowed into me with his shoulder. He grabbed my reticule while I lay on the ground.”

  That day she’d been pretty shaken, but her voice was matter of fact as she related the events. David began plucking pins from her tousled, half-fallen hair, and he said, “I’m surprised you weren’t even more shaken than you were. To think you had to deal with Persa’s illness later that same day!”

  She stayed silent, her hand open, her palm resting over his heart. He closed his eyes and let the warmth of her seep into him. The feelings she’d shared today made him ache, but she’d warned him not to love her to prevent his feeling exactly like this. He burrowed his hand into her hair, rubbing her scalp.

  “I’m sorry for discussing you with Wakefield,” she said.

  He needed to do something about Wakefield’s tendency to step in, trying to manage his life for him. But perhaps Charlotte needed to hear more about Lydia. As great as that hurt had once been, those memories held no power over him now. He supposed he might have brought it up at any time.

  “It’s all right. I don’t mind your knowing about her.” He combed his spread fingers through Charlotte’s hair. “I’ve known Lydia my whole life. Her father’s estate borders Summerbridge. We grew up riding together, and she was as mad for horses as I was. I now realize we didn’t have much in common beyond that, but at the time I thought she’d be the perfect wife for me. We’d always been good companions, you see, and she’d grown into a lovely woman.

  “Once I obtained my commission and her father’s leave, I proposed. She accepted but saw the wisdom in waiting to wed until after I’d established myself in the army. I received orders to the Crimea. She was willing to marry me before I went but agreed that waiting seemed the more prudent thing to do.”

  Charlotte raised up on her forearms and glared at him. “And when you came home wounded, she broke your engagement? How could she do such a thing? What kind of monster is she?”

  A raspy laugh broke free as something inside his chest cracked. Meeting only slight resistance, David pulled her back down to him. “A very sensible kind, I imagine.”

  “I meant what I said. You’d be a fine husband and father.”

  Lately, the alternative future he’d settled for had been as close to satisfying as he’d ever dared imagine. He squeezed her arm and said, “It takes more than the ability to copulate.”

  Her head popped up again, and he saw his blunt language had registered. Her words were fierce when she said, “You have everything—everything—any wife could need.”

  Except the ability to protect the woman he loved or rescue her when she was violently struck down. He couldn’t even go to her home easily to assure himself of her well-being! And yet, Charlotte didn’t understand how that knowledge undermined him.

  “Well,” he said, “for the time being I’ve no need of a wife. I’m well satisfied with the woman I’ve got.”

  Charlotte shook her head, a slow smile curving her lips.

  David grimaced. How could she be so determined for his marital bliss when she’d given up on herself? That damned Haliday. He remembered the man. Dark, handsome, and arrogant.

  “I know this will reveal me as both selfish a
nd immoral,” he said, “but I’m glad Haliday’s gone. I only wish it had happened sooner.”

  Charlotte was suddenly hugging the breath out of him. He eased her backward.

  “You like that I’m selfish and immoral?”

  A choked laugh escaped her. “You’re not. And since you’re not, perhaps I’m not, either. I’ve felt so guilty. I never wished him dead, but I’ve been glad to be released from him.”

  Understanding, David kissed her and gathered her close. Someday she’d be ready to love again. He didn’t want to think he might lose her, though, so until that day he’d treasure this time and be grateful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  There. There she was.

  Relief swept through Vivian with the intensity of an ice storm blowing in from the North Sea. The girl Eleanor approached the park with the dog on a leash. The dog walked with head upright and a bounce in her step.

  Vivian waved a boy over and pressed a coin into his hand, directing him to secure a cab. Minutes later she was settled inside a Hansom and on her way home. She closed her eyes but popped them open and blinked hard when she felt moisture gathering behind the lids. The dog was fine, just as Vivian had known she would be. This was the fifth day she’d kept watch in the park, waiting for an appearance of the girl and the dog. Now perhaps she could sleep. Worry she might have ended up killing the little beast had grown until she could think of little else. Egad, it was as if she suffered some sort of disease of the emotions!

  Haliday’s death had changed her, she admitted. She’d never be free of that guilt. She’d meant him to suffer a few bruises and a blow to his pride, meant him to blame his wife and be livid with rage. Instead he’d ended up dead. Now her nerves were so affected she couldn’t even manage a little bad luck for a dog without falling to pieces.

  She arrived home to find Radcliffe waiting. Somehow he’d gotten her servants to set him up in her sitting room and serve tea. That miffed Vivian a bit. She was the one who paid the servants, after all. He might have the status of a special guest, but this was still her household.

  Long legs outstretched, the remains of his repast on the table beside him, the earl lowered the newspaper and lifted his brows as she walked toward him. His gaze lazily roved her, and inside her mind the clouds drifted away to expose the sun.