The caped figure rode like a madman; his horse panting in short bursts of steam from its nostrils as it galloped onwards like a highwayman with the King’s Guard on his tail. The rider obviously knew the terrain but was too intent on the road to notice them there. As the horse drew nearer, her features came into the focus. My God, that’s not a madman, that’s Bella. She’ll get herself bloody well killed!
He wrenched the reins around to follow, urging his horse into a gallop. He heard yelling behind him but Robert kept riding. He gave Galahad his head and followed in hot pursuit. He didn’t care what the others thought of his sudden departure.
Arabella’s life was in danger.
She didn’t know about the slippery hazards up ahead and at the speed she was going she was unlikely to see them until it was too late. This was bad, very bad.
By the time he caught sight of Bella, her horse was already sliding down the bank into the swollen river. She controlled the animal well and made it across. Robert continued to pursue her with mounting fear. Her mount was obviously tiring; it reared a little and then took off again sharply to the right.
By God, she was heading straight for the King’s Arms. He would give her a sound verbal thrashing for being such a completely irresponsible, reckless and capricious female.
He lost sight of her as she rounded the bend. The high-pitched screech of the horse made his heart stop. He rounded the bend as well and saw her, fallen to the mud, her horse half on top of her. He flew off Galahad, his heart in his throat, and grabbed the reins of her horse, pulling it to its feet. She lay in the mud as he pushed her cape back.
Her face was pale and streaked with dirt. She lay very still. Too still. For a moment he was stunned by the sight of her motionless. Every muscle seemed tight. Tension coiled within him and made his brain slow. What if this was it? What if this was the last time he would touch her, the last time he... He refused to let her go, not like this.
‘Bella. Bella, are you all right? Bella! Talk to me.’
She opened her eyes. Blinking up at him.
‘Thank God.’ He felt the relief pulse through him.
‘Oh no,’ she whispered, her features scrunched up in pain. It was not exactly the response he had wanted. Was she disappointed he had been the one to come to her rescue instead of Barton? His heart gave a slow thump. His up-and-down emotions were going to cause him apoplexy. The others would be here soon. Now he knew she wasn’t dead, perhaps he should walk away, let Barton do the honours. No! She was his. He would never willingly hand her over to Justin. She was conscious and that was enough for now. She moaned in pain and he looked at her again. ‘Where does it hurt?’
She shook her head and gasped for air. He had to find the source of her injury before he contemplated moving her. He started at her ankles and felt his way up her legs, but she was grasping at him and panting.
‘Rob-ert,’ she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks as he tried to protect her from the rain and find the source of her pain at the same time.
‘I’m here. I won’t leave you.’
Just then Snowden, Shacklesbury and Barton arrived.
‘Bella? Oh Lord. Shelton, what did you do? Bella, are you all right?’ Barton hovered above her, hindering Robert’s search for injuries.
‘Of course she’s not all right; her horse fell on her. She’s having trouble breathing. I’m not sure where she is injured. I think it may be her ribs.’
Barton nodded. ‘We have to get her to the inn and out of this rain.’ He pushed his way forward and went to pick her up, but Robert shoved him out of the way, picked her up in his arms and began walking towards the inn.
Quinn rushed to his side. ‘Robert, what do you need me to do?’
‘She needs the doctor. Thankfully, he’s in the village. I saw him at the smithy as his horse had thrown a shoe. I doubt he’s wandered far in this weather. Get Barton out of my sight, send him to fetch the doctor.’
‘I’ll go and inform the family.’
Robert nodded. ‘John can follow me and bring the horses.’
Quinn immediately informed the others and Barton rode off ahead while Quinn turned back towards the house.
‘Robert... I’m... so... sorry.’ Bella’s voice was a mere whisper.
‘So you should be. What were you thinking, riding like that? You’ve scared me to death and nearly killed yourself.’ The knot in his throat expanded with every step he made and every laboured breath she took. He kissed her temple before saying, ‘Don’t ever do this to me again.’ She didn’t answer, just tried to lift her hand to his face but the effort must have been too much and she let it fall. ‘Just stay awake for me, Bella. Don’t close your eyes, just keep looking at me.’
He made a mental list of possible injuries, each one worse than the last.
She closed her eyes and moaned.
‘Don’t you die on me, Arabella. I forbid it.’
Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again, her brow furrowing. He wanted to run to the King’s Arms but he knew every step he took caused her pain and he had caused her enough already. ‘Stay awake, Bella, please.’ She let her head fall towards his shoulder.
‘I’m sorry too,’ he found himself saying. ‘I’m a damn fool. I hope you can forgive me.’ But there was no response from the woman in his arms and that frightened him more than anything. Even more than facing a man with murder in his eyes and a pistol in his hand.
His eyes burned. A future without her seemed unbearable, unconscionable. A sob broke from his lips. He staggered for a moment, righted himself and closed his eyes and breathed. He had to keep calm. She needed him and God knows he needed her. He loved her.
There was nothing he would not do to deserve her, to gain her heart, to have her in his life. And as rain pelted all around them and he looked into her pale face, he knew no other woman would look after his heart like she would.
The journey of less than a mile had seemed endless, but finally he made it to the yard of the inn and kicked in the door to the taproom, causing a huge puddle of muddy water to form around him.
The publican ran over. ‘My lord, what has happened?’
‘The young lady has been injured. Lord Barton is fetching the doctor. I’m going to take her up to Lady Shelton. Can you please bring more wood for the fire and some brandy?’
‘Yes, yes of course, my lord.’
‘Lord Snowden will need help tending to our horses as well when he arrives.’
The man nodded and left.
Robert’s arms were burning but he used the remainder of his energy to make his way up the stairs.
‘Oh, Bella, my dear girl,’ Victoria Mallory cried, her eyes frantic when she saw who lay in his arms. He placed the dripping and unconscious Arabella in a chair by the fire. She cried out in pain when he let go. Thank God she still lived. He just hoped he had not injured her further.
‘She fell from her horse. Barton has gone for the doctor. Can you help her, Mother?’
Her mother’s face was full of concern. This only made Robert more anxious.
‘I’ll do what I can to get her more comfortable. I need to get her out of these wet clothes. My maid will help me. You must go and change too, if you don’t want to catch your death of cold. You’ll be no good to the girl if you die of the influenza.’
‘Of course. Thank you.’
At the doorway, he paused and looked back when he heard Bella cry out again. He closed his eyes and slowly closed the door behind him; then, leaning back against it, he let himself slide down its rough surface it until he was sitting on the floor. This was all his fault. He put his head in his hands. If he hadn’t challenged Barton to the stupid duel she would not have risked her life to save the poet. He wondered briefly what arguments she would have come up with. Did it really matter now? She was gravely injured. He just wanted her well.
Then he would throttle her.
He went to his room and tugged off his greatcoat and jacket and let them fall to the floor in a heap. He ch
anged quickly so he could be back at his post outside her door. He wanted to be close to Bella. He pulled one of the chairs into the hall outside his mother’s room.
She cried out again and he heard his mother’s words of comfort to her. His heart was being ripped apart. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel. What if she didn’t recover? What if she did recover but told him that she was going to pick Barton instead? And why shouldn’t she? Barton was charming, rich, titled and a successful poet, and everyone bloody well loved him. Whereas he was arrogant, selfish and he couldn’t write a poem if his life depended on it. He was also quite possibly the most hated man in England. Why the hell would she pick him over Barton?
He had acted like a wounded ass yesterday. He’d let the hurt of her actions cloud his common sense. She hadn’t denied his allegations, hadn’t tried to hide behind excuses, had simply crumbled gracefully in front of him and asked him to let her explain. He’d let his fury rule his words.
At the time, he had been satisfied with her devastated features and prostrate position. Later he had greatly regretted his cruel and harsh words towards her. Later, when his mind was swimming in alcohol and his body had long since gone numb, he realised that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He had hurt his friend, his love and himself by acting so hastily.
He had spent the whole night going over everything that had happened since he had met her. Every look. Every touch. Every kiss. Every smart rebuke. There was no doubt she had been the forgiving one in this mess. Despite his past, his reputation and his treatment of her, she hadn’t given up on him. But one wayward comment from Amy and he had given up on Arabella. What kind of man did that make him? Not a rational one. Not one she deserved. But he loved her, of that he was certain. No matter what happened here today, nothing would change that fact.
His plan this morning had been simple. He was to convince Snowden to come back to the inn where he would make Snowden think that he had done them all a great favour by calling off the duel. Everyone would all be so relieved that they wouldn’t analyse too closely why he would do such a thing. His plan was going marvellously well until Bella decided to play the gallant heroine and ruined the whole thing.
He looked up to see the doctor mounting the stairs and he let out a relieved breath. The doctor frowned at him for a fraction of a second and then knocked once and entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Barton and Snowden stood dripping in front of him.
‘How is she?’ John asked, breathing hard.
‘I don’t know. I... just don’t... know.’
Barton turned away, walked a few yards and stared out the small window that overlooked the inn’s courtyard.
John squelched forward a few steps and then crouched down in front of Robert, his voice lowered. ‘I understand you’re hurting and rightly confused by what’s gone on, but let me tell you that what we did... What we all did... We did because we care about both of you. We just wanted you two to be happy. Forgive us our ill attempt at matchmaking. It was not her fault.’
‘I love her, John,’ Robert stated, wiping a hand over his face. ‘God knows I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to put my heart at risk again and just when I thought I had her, I found out about the scheme and I … panicked. I pictured myself standing on that wall again, looking into that murky, slimy water and thinking that if I jumped, nobody would care. Except for her.’ He felt the tears and blinked furiously to stop them.
‘We would care. That’s the point. Would we have all gone to so much trouble if we did not?’ John clapped Robert on the shoulder and Robert raised his hand and put it on top of John’s. Thankful for John’s candid words and friendship. He’d been feeling so alone, in such a despair that in one fell swoop he could lose Arabella and Quinn from his life and others like John and Amy who had come to mean so much to him. The thought alone was torture.
‘You are a good man, John, but what if, after all this, she won’t have me? I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve been collecting hearts for so many years and now, when I finally have one worth keeping, I sabotage it by acting like an imbecile.’
John smiled. ‘Arabella knows her heart, has known it belonged to you for a long time. Let nature take its course. Give yourself up to it, Robert, and you’ll find her waiting for you.’
‘With sunshine and smiles?’ Robert said with grin and John laughed.
‘That’s right, and they’ll all be for you.’
‘And what about him?’ Robert indicated Barton, who was now sitting on the step with his head in his hands just out of earshot.
John leaned in. ‘He never stood a chance, and to be honest, he knows it. Let that be punishment enough.’
‘Done him a favour really, haven’t I? Think of all the sickening poems he will get out of this.’
John’s lips twitched. ‘Precisely.’
He should probably feel sorry for Barton, but it was too early to gloat over his victory, for he had not yet won the prize. Arabella’s forgiveness was to be sought first and he feared it would be no small challenge to win it.
‘Berkeley will get you both into some dry clothes.’
John nodded. ‘Good luck, my friend.’
***
Arabella opened her eyes slowly. She could hardly breathe and her mouth felt dry. She looked around and didn’t recognise any of the furnishings or the drapery. Where was she? What had happened? She closed her eyes again, trying to remember, and then her eyes flew open again. It had been raining and she had been racing to see Robert, to try and make him see sense before someone got killed. Her horse had slipped and she had fallen. Then she saw Robert and couldn’t breathe and she had been in pain, so much pain. She looked around the room again and saw him sitting in a chair by the fire, a cup of tea ignored beside him.
He turned and smiled at her. He rose to walk over to her and she didn’t know if she was dreaming or whether it was real. Was it possible to feel pain in a dream? She suspected not, so he must really be here.
‘How do you feel?’ Robert asked softly beside her. She always loved the timbre of his voice.
‘Horrible.’ Her voice had turned raspy and it hurt to breathe. He must have noticed because he brought a glass of water to her lips.
‘Better?’ She nodded. ‘Good.’
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her as if contemplating his next words, and she felt dread seep into her bones. Was this when he told her he was leaving, that he had only stayed around to make sure she would recover?
‘Do you know what it is like to want to throttle you and kiss you at the same time?’ he fingered the odd pattern on the coverlet. ‘I thought I was going to lose you. I never want to feel like that again.’
He sighed and when he looked at her there was pain in his eyes. She wanted to take that pain away. Pain she had put there.
‘I know I don’t deserve you,’ he said. ‘You have every right to send me away immediately. All I can say is that I am so very sorry. I should have listened. I should have heard you out but I... didn’t. I sincerely regret my actions.’
‘Oh Robert,’ Arabella began, wanting to make everything right between them. ‘I’m so sorry too.’ It hurt to talk, to take the necessary breaths, but she had to settle this once and for all. ‘I should have been honest with you. I should have told you that night in the library.’
He stood, paced to the end of the bed and back again. ‘Perhaps, but even then I am not sure how I would have reacted. Right now, though... I need to know.’
Her hands grasped the bed sheeting. ‘Know what?’
‘When you decided on your ridiculously dangerous ride in the rain, who were you riding for? If you say his name I will leave immediately and never bother you again. I will concede to him but I have to know the truth from your lips alone.’
‘I rode for you. It has always been you.’ His eyes softened and he let out a shuddering breath. For a moment she couldn’t quite decipher his expression so she felt the need to explain further. ‘I care
for Justin, but I love you, Robert.’ She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. ‘Nothing will change how I feel. I worried you were going to do something rash.’
‘I am not worth risking your life for.’
‘Still you think yourself unworthy and yet I can think of no other man I want to spend my life with. A man who fiercely loves his mother, is loyal to his friends.’
Robert huffed at that. ‘I have been a fool on so many levels. It will take me a very long time to make up to those I love for the way I have been acting, for letting the Collector of Hearts rule my life, my actions.’
She studied his face and realised what she saw was worry and guilt etched on his features. And it was not a mask he wore well. He’d lost the twinkle in his eyes that she always found endearing. She wanted to kiss him until all his worries fell away.
He shook his head. ‘I put you in a damnable position which was unforgivable.’ He looked down at their hands clasped together.
It was her turn to frown now. ‘If you had sacrificed yourself for me I don’t know what I would have done. How I would have lived knowing I was responsible for either one of you being hurt or killed?’
He gave a sad chuckle. ‘Is that what you thought I was going to do? Sacrifice myself? I suppose I’ve given you reason to think it. There was a time when I would have willingly taken a shot in the chest. Then I met you. You, my darling girl, are worth living for. I wasn’t willing to give you up, unless you didn’t want me. It was never going to be my decision.’
Her ribs hurt and she was so very, very tired, but she had to know, to make sure that they would be together. ‘I am relieved. Can you forgive me?’
He jerked his head up then. ‘It is I who should be begging your forgiveness. I acted like a child denied a sweet. It was unbecoming of me and unworthy treatment of someone I love so much.’
Hope flared in her chest. ‘You still love me?’
He chuckled. ‘With everything that I am.’ He bent his head and kissed her softly on the lips. Her lips curved, wanted more. ‘I’ve missed your smile.’
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