The wheelchair slowed. “Thank you.”
“Do you know what I’m apologizing for?”
“Yes.”
“Sister Mary? May I ask you another personal question?”
“No.”
He chuckled. Her reply came too quickly. “Have you let other men touch you like that since...you came to live at the Abbey?”
She expelled her breath and it blew across his neck. He grinned. Yes, he disturbed her, to be sure.
“Mr.—um, I mean Gregg, I’ve made many mistakes in my past. I’m not immune to a man’s touch.”
“But you haven’t allowed a man to touch you since?”
“No.”
“Is that why your heart was racing?”
“Yes. But, Gregg, you can never do that again. Do you understand? I...cannot have those feelings.”
He reached back and grasped her hand, pulling it down to rest on his shoulder. “My apologies again, Sister Mary. I hope you will forgive me.”
“I will, but only if you promise never to touch me like that again.”
Could he make the promise? He was labeled a rake in London and he wore the title proudly. After all, it was his duty to please women. Although he didn’t know Mary, he knew she could not be a nun. Passionate women like her had no business giving their lives to God, and he’d try to convince her to change her mind about that decision.
“I cannot make that promise, but…I assure you I shall think really hard about your request,” he said with touch of humor.
* * * *
Once Madeline had Gregg back in bed, she hurried to the chapel to pray. As she clutched her rosary and said the words, tears streamed down her cheeks. It had been too long since she’d felt those emotions heating her body. Why now?
And why with Gregg?
She shouldn’t have told him about the baby. Yet…in a way she hoped he would know it was her and voice his thoughts so she wouldn’t have to be the first to bring up the subject. It certainly didn’t happen the way she’d wanted. But Gregg had the ability to control her mind and body. Just one touch from him made her body sing with passion. Even when she thought she was in love with her sister’s husband, Gregg was still the man who made her quiver with desire. He was the only man to make love to her, and just now when his intimate touch stroked her face and neck, her body recalled every moment in the past when he’d made her burn. Now, three years later, she ached for his loving touch once again.
But if he knew who she really was—his touch would not be loving at all.
She silently scolded herself. Falling back to the old Maddie was not going to happen. The only way to stop this insanity would be to tell him the truth. Once he knew she was Madeline O’Neil, he’d leave the Abbey and her behind as quickly as he came.
Tears continued to flow, and she couldn’t control them. Her heart broke from knowing Gregg would always hate her. If he didn’t forgive her for her past mistakes, he’d definitely not forgive her when he discovered who his angel had been all this time. She didn’t want to hurt him any longer. She wanted forgiveness so she could move forward into her new life.
A hand rested on her shoulder and Madeline snapped her gaze up to meet the worried stare of the Reverend Mother. Madeline’s heart plummeted. She knows!
The older nun motioned for Madeline follow. Holding her rosary tightly against her bosom, she trailed behind the Reverend Mother until they reached the Mother’s office.
“My child, I’ve been watchin’ ya closely, an’ I see confusion in yar eyes,” she said in a strong Scottish accent.
Madeline crumpled onto the chair, rested her head in her hands and sobbed. “Oh, Reverend Mother. I don’t know what to do.”
“About what?”
“I...have sinned.”
The Reverend Mother lifted Madeline’s chin until she met her eyes.
“Madeline, I’m not the person ya should confess yar sins to. ‘Sides, I dinna ken yar sins are of the flesh, just in yar heart.”
Madeline nodded.
“Who is Mr. Gregory Fielding to ya?”
“Remember when I told you about my past?”
“Aye.”
“Mr. Fielding is the man I was betrothed to. He’s the one that took my virginity.”
The older nun nodded. “He’s the father of yar bairn.”
“Yes.” Madeline took her handkerchief and dabbed the corners of her eyes.
The Reverend Mother sighed and walked behind her desk. A frown tugged on her mouth as she sat and steepled her hands. “Does he ken who ya are, lass?”
“No. He thinks of me as Sister Mary. I couldn’t bear to tell him my real name.”
“How do ya feel about him? Are ya still in love with him?”
Tears welled in her eyes again, and agony shot through her soul. “No…oh, I don’t know. Oh, Reverend Mother, I’m so confused. I hurt him terribly three years ago, and I want his forgiveness. We had become friends before he discovered what I had done back then.” She shrugged. “And we’re becoming friends again.”
The Reverend Mother brought the points of her fingers to her bottom lip. “How did ya feel when he touched ya today?”
Heat rushed to Madeline’s face. “You...saw?”
“Aye. From this very window.”
Madeline lowered her gaze to the floor. “His touch confused me. I’d thought those carnal feelings were behind me.”
Perhaps I’ll assign someone else to care for him.”
Panic surged through Madeline and she stood. “No, Reverend Mother. I don’t believe that’s the right thing to do. I’ve helped blind people before. I know I can help him.”
“But what of yar feelins’ for him?”
She took a deep breath. “I must make him like the new Madeline O’Neil. That’s the only way he’ll ever forgive me.”
The Reverend Mother pushed away from her desk and walked to Madeline. She touched Madeline’s cheek. “Yar a strong lass, Madeline.”
Madeline fell to her knees and took the Reverend Mother’s hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you. I will be strong. I assure you.”
Yet even as she made the promise to the nun, in the back of her mind, she doubted her resolve. It had been her habit to always give in to sins of the flesh.
Chapter Four
The next morning after breakfast, Madeline forced her wobbly legs toward Gregg’s cot, hoping they’d grow stiff at any moment. In her mind she repeated encouraging words: God will help me. I will not allow Gregg to touch me. Yet when she reached his side, she didn’t feel as strong as she thought she should be.
Nevertheless, she must do this. She must remove these carnal thoughts from her mind!
Gregg had been talking to his friend, and as soon as she stopped beside Gregg’s bed, his head whipped around and he smiled wide.
“Mar—uh, Sister Mary.”
She wanted to laugh, but kept herself from doing so. Gregg must have known in his heart she wasn’t a nun, and it was most comical to watch him trying to act like it. “How did you know it was me?”
He inhaled deeply. “Your smell. I love the scent of roses. Especially now,” he ended quieter.
Her heart flipped, and she wished it hadn’t. “Forgive me for interrupting your visit with Lord Drake, but I wondered if you would like to start your lessons today.”
“Most assuredly.”
Once again, she bit back a laugh. Gregg’s enthusiasm nearly had him leaping from the cot. She touched his arm, and quickly his other hand tenderly grasped her hand.
“You lead and I shall follow,” he said.
“Splendid. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” She took both of his hands in hers. “I don’t have the wheelie chair today because I’m going to show you how to walk. Let me know if you are too weak.”
“I shall be fine as long as you are beside me.”
She pulled his hands and he stood in front of her, wobbling slightly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Please continue.”
Lead
ing him away from the cot, they took small steps toward the hallway. When she had him where she wanted, she stopped and moved to his side. Hesitantly, she slid one arm around his waist while continuing to hold his hand.
“Now, Mr. Fielding—”
“Gregg,” he said softly. “Mary, I know we are in the hallway now and I can’t hear anyone else around us. So please call me Gregg.”
She smiled. “You are using your ears much better. Very good.”
“I thank you.”
“So now let’s—”
“Say my name, Mary.”
Inwardly, she groaned. His voice was much too deep, and she stood entirely too close to him. Quickly, she repeated her encouraging words…but they seemed to weaken the more she said them.
She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Gregg, I’m going to take your hand and let you touch the wall.” She placed his hand on the wall. “Not only do you need to walk with your feet, but your hands as well. Your feet will feel for objects that might be in your way, just as your arms will feel for objects in front of you.”
“I understand.” He nodded.
As he moved his feet slowly, his fingers slid along the wall. She used her hands to hold onto his waist, but only to make certain he didn’t fall… That’s what she told herself, anyway. So then why could she detect every muscle in his back, and every flex of his waist and stomach? And why, pray tell, did she enjoy touching him this way? It wasn’t really scandalous since she was acting as his teacher. Still…it was the improper thoughts filling her head that made her curse her weakness once more.
She had helped several people who couldn’t see since coming to the Abbey—a few of them were men—yet Gregg Fielding was the only one she enjoyed helping…and holding on to. Perhaps being his teacher wasn’t a good idea after all. She should have listened to the Reverend Mother when she suggested assigning someone else to Gregg’s care.
But Madeline didn’t want to feel like a failure. She must control herself and overcome this obstacle!
“Gregg, you are doing remarkably well for your first time.”
“Only because I have such a remarkable teacher.”
She smiled. “Oh, I don’t think I’m that remarkable.”
“You are to me.”
His voice was low; his words seducing. But she would not let it affect her.
“I’m having a cane made for you from a man in town that I know.”
“How thoughtful of you, Mary.”
The closer they came to the end of the hallway, the more Madeline realized how much darker it was—more so than the rest of the hall. Of course to Gregg, it wouldn’t matter. Only to her…so she would just have to act like nothing was abnormal.
Ha, right!
“Gregg, I’m so proud of you. We’re almost to the end and we’ll turn back around.”
He dropped his hand to hers still clasping his shirt, and stroked her skin. “Just as long as you continue to hold me, I shall make it.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. Why did he have to go and say that for? “I’m quite certain you would be able to make it even without my help.”
She stopped them once they reached the end and helped him to turn, but instead of doing what her hands instructed, he faced her and grasped her shoulder. At first she thought he’d accidentally stumbled into her, until his arms wound around her and pressed her against his chest.
The rouge! Yet…even as anger threatened to harden her heart, joy crept in and overrode the emotion. His face fell to her neck. Hot breath caressed her more tenderly than his fingers could have done.
“Oh, forgive me,” he said, his voice husky. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.” A grin tugged on the corners of his mouth. “See…it looks as if I do need your help after all.” He shook his head. “And here you thought I could do it without your help. Shame on you, Mary.”
Madeline couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling from her throat. “Gregg, I believe you had that planned all along.”
“What an overactive imagination you have.”
He straightened, but didn’t step away. Instead, his hands lifted and cupped the sides of her face as his thumbs stroked her bottom lip. “But the truth is, Mary, you are more a part of my life than you care to admit. In a short time, I have grown very fond of you and I greatly anticipate our visits.”
Inwardly, her heart caved, bringing forth a wrenching pain. If only he knew who he was talking to…
“Gregg, I have grown fond of you as well. But please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.” She pushed him away from her, guiding his hands toward the wall. “And please don’t touch me like that,” she added in a whisper, knowing he would not agree to her request, just as he refused her the last time she’d made one.
* * * *
For the next few days, Gregg was beside himself. Mary didn’t come to see him as much, and Lord Calvin wasn’t in good spirits so Gregg had no one to talk to. Whenever Gregg smelled a whiff of Mary’s intoxicating rose scent, he called out to her. She stopped, but explained she had things to do and then hurried away.
Other people had been brought to the Abbey. Gregg hadn’t made their acquaintance, but Drake had and told him about them. Apparently, they were wounded soldiers returning from the Crimean War. Gregg didn’t know how many there were, but muffled groans filled the room instead of the silence to which he’d become accustomed.
Finally, from restlessness, he sat on the edge of his bed, bent and felt for his boots. Once his hands knocked into them, he carefully slid them on his feet…and felt proud that he’d put them on the right foot the first time.
Leaving his bed, he felt his way around until reaching a wall. With his arms in front of him, he inspected everything with his touch. He bumped into chairs and tables, but he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. If he was going to be blind for the rest of his life, he needed to depend upon himself and not on others—although it was much more enjoyable when he had Mary by his side. She hadn’t returned to give him more lessons, but he wondered if she suspected how he wanted to use his hands…
He couldn’t get that woman from his mind. At night, he dreamed of seeing her, running his fingers through her curly hair, and kissing her endlessly. When he awoke, he was surprised God hadn’t struck him dead for having such inappropriate dreams in an Abbey.
Was it because he was always thinking of ways to seduce women? Or was he thinking about Mary because she’d become his friend and she already held a special place in his heart? Either way, she stayed in his thoughts, as wicked as they were. He wanted to talk to her again, to get to know her better. And yes, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to hear her sultry sighs and the low tone of her gasps.
He walked all the way into the hallway of the Abbey. Sounds around him grew dim and there wasn’t much for him to bump into. Against his face, a warm light warmed his skin. Hoping it was the sun, he followed until it led him to a door.
Gregg opened the heavy wood and stepped outside. Birds chirping nearby and buzzing bees made him smile. In the distance was the steady rhythm of someone chopping wood.
He recalled the path Mary had taken him the other day in the wheelchair, so he felt with his shoes and hands—just as she’d taught him—until he thought he was walking in the right direction. Soon, his knees came in hard contact with the stone bench. He yelped and quickly sat as he rubbed his shins. Happiness blossomed in his chest. He’d reached his goal in making it to the bench. Wouldn’t Mary be proud of him now?
A choir of angelic singing voices lifted from the Abbey. Peace filled his soul. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t see at this moment. Everything around him made him pleased to be alive.
A breeze swept by him and he sneezed. When he rubbed his nose, the light around his eyes grew darker. When he moved his hand, it became brighter. Did this mean what he thought it meant?
His heartbeat increased. Perhaps his eyes were healing after all.
He cautiously touched the gauze surrounding his head u
ntil he found the beginning of it, then he slowly unwrapped it. As each layer fell from his face, the light brightened. Soon nothing stood between his skin and the air. He slid his fingers across his face, feeling for the scars he knew would be there from the burns, but only a few places puckered with scabs. His lids were heavy, crusted with ointment, and he carefully blinked his eyes open.
Through his blurry vision, shapes and colors formed. He saw the outline of a tree, the grass—he saw the blue of the sky. Although still indistinct, the Abbey stood tall and majestic with a pointed steeple and thick, round, gray columns. His heart hammered with excitement.
The garden beckoned him, so he took careful steps away from the view of others into the sanctuary of the flowers and shrubbery. He blinked quicker, hoping his vision would become clearer, but that didn’t happen. Yet seeing what he could was enough. Mary had promised he would see, and now he believed.
Emotion tightened his throat and stung his eyes. He wouldn’t be blind after all!
Someone stepped from a side trail onto the path he was walking, and stopped. He couldn’t see who it was, but the woman did not wear the full nun’s attire, although he could tell her clothes were plain, possibly gray and white. Even the outline of her head was noticeable, and she didn’t have anything covering her burnt-blonde hair. His heart soared. “Mary!”
She dropped the basket of flowers that had been in her arms and stood still. “Gregg? Why have you removed your bandages?”
Her voice didn’t sound as soft as he thought it should. Instead, her tone was laced with panic. “Mary, I can see!”
“You can see me?”
He stepped closer. “Well, not very clearly, but I can see shapes and colors.” He stopped in front of her and touched her cheek. “And I knew it was you and not one of the nuns due to your different habit.”
She remained standing stiff, but he let his fingers touch her face again, this time almost seeing what he touched. She came close to what he’d imagined the other day. Her lips were fuller. Her face heart-shaped. She was certainly a perfect angel.
“Oh, Gregg. That’s wonderful.” She took his hands away from her face and squeezed.
Love Comes Blindly (book 5) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) Page 4