The color had drained from her face, her eyes were clenched tightly shut, and she was breathing shallowly. He put the basin, cloth, and salve on the tray and settled at her side, then caressed the edge of her jaw with the back of his fingers.
“Let’s get you into a clean night rail. You’ll feel better wearing something that’s fresh and clean.”
He drew the soiled cotton garment over her arms and head, then helped her into the clean silk night rail he’d placed on hand near the bed. When he settled it into place, she opened her eyes. The pain and anguish reflected in her gaze took his breath away. If the eyes truly were the windows of the soul, Izzy’s was a soul in torment. He swallowed, hard.
“You know.” She whispered.
He enfolded her small hand in his. “I’ve put the pieces together as best I could and I have a good guess as to what happened.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she choked.
“Nay!” He reared back in horror and disbelief, releasing her hand, shaking his head emphatically. “Do not dare apologize to me!” How could she apologize to him, when it was his fault she’d suffered so terribly? He couldn’t bear it.
She covered her face with her hands, weeping inconsolably.
Ram was undone.
He slipped into the bed again and gathered her into his arms, holding her close against him, rocking her gently. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s all right. All will be well, my love. All will be well.”
As the minutes passed, her tears ran their course. Her hand came to rest on his chest, her fingers clenching and unclenching into a fist. She drew a loud shuddering breath, then another.
“I know you likely don’t want to hear anything I have to say. I know nothing I say can excuse what happened but please, I need to tell you why it did.”
He frowned, rubbing her back, trying to make sense of her words. He stiffened with instant realization.
She thinks I’m still furious with her!
“Oh, Christ, Izzy. Nay, I’m not angry with you. I swear I’m not.” He drew back and cupped her tear-ravaged face in his hands. “I can’t bear to hear you apologize for what that bastard did to you. It was not your fault, do you hear me? I’m the one at fault. I should have told you a long time ago, Izzy. Huntley can’t hurt me; he wouldn’t dare go to my father. He defected to Cromwell during Charles’ exile, selling Royalist secrets for money. If he breathes one single word to my father, I’ll go to Charles with the information. I intended to tell him so.”
Her eyes widened, and then, she drew a deep sigh of relief of all things. Ram stared into her eyes, trying to comprehend, waiting for the anger she must feel when she realized she’d suffered for no reason.
“Do you mean it? I don’t have to give him money, or let him do a-anything else when he c-comes to Cornwall?”
“Over my dead body,” he growled. “Izzy, Paul was stricken with smallpox when I saw him at White Hall, but if he by chance survived I’m going to kill him for what he did to you. You need not fear him, ever again. He won’t be coming to Cornwall. Ever.” He waited, half expecting her to rise to Paul’s defense.
She broke eye contact and stared at her lap. “But I agreed to what he did,” she whispered brokenly.
His stomach twisted but he touched a finger to her chin. “I saw what you did to his face. That’s not the response of a willing woman. Did you agree to let him tie you to his bed and take a switch to you?”
She shook her head. “Nay.”
But she would have. She’d have agreed to anything Huntley demanded. Ram could read it on her face as clearly as if she’d said it aloud.
“It was my fault he ever learned what you did, Ram.” She explained. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if he’d ruined your relationship with your father. I couldn’t bear it.”
There was a moment of silence as Ram digested her vehement words, and then he cursed himself for a fool. He should have realized, given the circumstances with her own father, how sensitive she might be about the subject of fathers in general.
He stroked her cheek. “Instead you’d rather live with what he did to you? Because I can hardly bear it, I don’t know how you can.”
She shrugged. “I’ll heal.”
“Izzy,” he took her into his arms again and spoke carefully. “It takes longer to heal from the kind of ordeal you’ve been through than just the time it takes for these physical wounds to disappear. Rape causes other kinds of wounds, too.”
“Rape?” She pulled back wearing a small frown and shook her head in denial. “Nay, Ram. He didn’t rape me. He didn’t. I-I thought he intended to, b-but he was only toying with me,” her voice trailed off, her tone low and bitter. “He wanted only to scare me, and demean me.” She laughed without humor. He wanted to feel relief, but how could he, when he himself had deliberately demeaned her when last they were together? He hadn’t behaved any more honorably than Huntley had. ‘Twas arguable he’d actually acted with less honor than the other man. Self-disgust flooded him, along with the growing certainty that her life would be better off without him in it.
This wasn’t the time for dwelling on himself; not when she needed him. Doubt pricked at him as he concentrated on her claim. He’d seen her wounds firsthand and fresh. And if she believed she was protecting him he wouldn’t put it past her to lie, even now, under these circumstances. She was headstrong and brave and impossible sometimes, and he adored that about her. “Izzy, your thighs”-
She pressed her forehead against his chest. “T-that’s from the h-handle of the s-switch.” She shuddered.
He spit out a low curse. He hated that she’d been forced to learn such perversity existed in the way she had, at the expense of her innocence and trust. Even as vast relief overwhelmed him on one hand, his rage grew apace on the other. How could anyone ever want to hurt a woman as innocent, sweet, and loyal as Izzy the way Huntley had? Ram remembered what Lucien had told him, about how Huntley had accosted Belinda, and an ugly truth became glaringly apparent. It was precisely that innocence and goodness that attracted Huntley. No doubt women of Louisa’s ilk had ceased to satisfy his sick tastes long ago, for they enjoyed his painful games. Ram tightened his arms around Izzy and stroked her hair. Neither of the girls could be safe if Huntley survived his illness. Not only was the man broke and ruined, but now Izzy knew his sick secret and he’d lost his leverage over her. That would make him desperate.
But death by smallpox was too easy for the suffering the depraved monster had inflicted. Ram fervently hoped Paul recovered, for he’d take the great pleasure in killing the man in the slowest, most painful way he could devise, and without a single qualm. No one threatened or hurt the ones he cared about with impunity.
He realized Izzy had fallen asleep again. Ram held her for a long time, wondering where all of this left them. He still believed she’d be better off without him. Even if she didn’t hold him to blame, none of this would have happened to her if not for him. But how could he walk away from her now? He didn’t have that kind of strength, even if it was best for her. More than anything he wanted to be selfish, to keep her for himself, consequences be damned.
Nay! She deserved his selflessness. He’d do what was best for her, even if it turned out to be the worst thing ever to happen to him. He must. He laid her carefully against the pillow, then withdrew and stood staring at her for a few minutes. His jaw set. There was one last thing he wanted to do for her.
He left her sleeping in the big bed and strode to the study.
***
When next she awoke, Izzy found herself alone. Outside the window, the sun had set and night was falling. Someone had lit beeswax tapers and in the flickering light the candles cast, she swept the room with a glance, knowing instantly Ram wasn’t there. She felt his absence almost as keenly as his presence.
Where was he?
She stretched her aching body and struggled upright against the headboard. It was still hard to believe Ram wasn’t angry with her over all that happened
with Paul. His fury had been palpable, but incredibly, it wasn’t directed at her.
She shuddered, imagining what Ram might do if Paul survived the Smallpox. She almost, almost felt sorry for Paul. But when she remembered the cruel things he said, and the pain, unlike any she’d known before, she found it difficult to extend compassion toward him. Paul deserved whatever happened to him.
There was a quick knock upon the chamber door and it opened before she could call out permission to enter. Ram strode in and her stomach twisted with both joy and apprehension. He didn’t slide into bed with her again. Instead he settled in the chair next to the bed.
He looked so very tired. His eyes were red-rimmed and more than a day’s worth of stubble covered his strong jaw. More than anything she wanted to touch him, but she was so afraid of rejection. Instead she twisted her fingers in her lap and waited for him to speak.
“How are you?” he asked, softly.
She shrugged. “Better. Still tired.”
“It will be a while yet before you recover your full strength.”
She didn’t want to discuss her health or anything else of little importance. She wanted to discuss them. She wanted to tell him she loved him again, the words were always there on the tip of her tongue, but how could she bear it if he didn’t love her in return, if he answered the same way he had before, merely humoring her. In her dreams, when she was so sick, he’d said the words to her. Now, she wanted to hear him say them in truth. Where would she be if he didn’t want her anymore?
Fear kept her silent. It went against everything she was to surrender to her fears, but what if she raised the issue only to learn he still wanted an annulment? At least, in this state of limbo, she hadn’t yet lost him completely.
He was studying her. She quickly composed herself, not wanting him to even hint at her chaotic thoughts. His face softened and he took her hand.
“I have something for you,” he murmured.
She gripped his hand back. “What is it?”
He produced a piece of parchment from his other hand and laid it on the bed. “Something you should have had a long time ago, sweetheart. Your father should have seen to it when he negotiated your marriage portion, but since he did not, it falls to me and I’m happy to do it.”
Frowning, she reached for the document with her free hand, pushing away the hurt the mention of Papa caused. She unfolded the crisp page and scanned the contents. It was a deed. She looked up, met Ram’s eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s the deed to the London townhouse. It’s yours alone, for as long as you live.”
“What! But…why?”
The lines around his mouth became more noticeable as his jaw tightened. “Because, Izzy, you deserve the security and you need it. You should never be forced to do something you don’t wish to do out of desperation, because you have nowhere else to go. I saw the letter from your father, and frankly, it appalled me. Your choices shouldn’t be limited by someone else’s decisions. This is your life. I want you to have freedom and independence.”
Anyone else would be elated by such a generous, thoughtful gift. Once upon a time it would have been the greatest gift she could ever hope to receive. It meant she would never be homeless, never subject to another’s ultimatums. Yet now…now it represented something terrible, something she didn’t even want to consider.
She didn’t want to be free of him.
Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip, desperately trying to rein in the hurt and the sadness. After all, she’d brought it on herself. And he was leaving her with more than she ever dreamed of. She would never be homeless. Even still, if she could have but one more chance… she rubbed her aching forehead with her fingertips. She would do everything so differently.
“Sweetheart? What’s amiss? I thought this would please you.”
“This is so generous Ram, but” she placed the deed on the bed and cleared her throat. Not knowing was killing her. What more could she lose? If he wasn’t hers to lose, she would know now. “But I don’t want to live in the townhouse without you. I don’t want to be free of you. I love you.”
A tear burned her cheek as it escaped from the corner of her eye.
Ram’s face softened. He leaned forward, brushed the tear away with a fingertip. “Sweetheart, we must face the hard truth. You’re better off without me and certainly safer. That’s what matters. I’ve done nothing but hurt you since our wedding day”-
“Nay! That isn’t true, not in the least. You’ve been kind and patient, while I acted like a spoiled child, and I’m so sorry, Ram. I only want a chance”-
He was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. Sharp pain seized her. It was the ache in her chest she’d lived with since the night of their final confrontation, yet worse, far worse, because there was such finality in his voice. She looked at her hands twisted in her lap. They blurred as she stared dumbly. I’ve lost him.
“The risk is too great, sweetheart. I’m not what you need to be happy.”
For the first time since she realized she loved him, anger at him flared white hot. “Don’t you dare tell me what I need, not when you just stood here and told me I should have my independence to make my own decisions! What I need is you.” She jerked her head up to look him in the eye. His face was ravaged, his eyes bleak, his nostrils pinched. “What I want is you! If you don’t love me, if you can’t stand the sight of me, then say so, tell me the truth, but don’t you dare stand there and hide behind fear as the reason for leaving me! That’s no reason at all!”
“That’s every reason, don’t you see? It’s the most important reason. I can’t bear to see you hurt, not on my account. It’s only because I love you so much that I will let you go, because I’ll do anything to protect you, to uphold the promises I made to you.”
Her heart cleaved in two as he turned his back and took two steps toward the door. He didn’t love her as he just now claimed, he couldn’t, or he wouldn’t be able to walk away, not like this. “You swore you’d never hurt me again,” she flung bitterly at his retreating back. He froze midstride but didn’t turn around. She dropped her head into her hands, unable to watch him go. “You made a promise to me you are about to break.”
“I did make that promise,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear it. She raised her head to find that he’d turned around and stood staring at her.
“The pain Paul caused will be nothing compared to the pain I’ll suffer if you walk out that door” she whispered.
The expression on his face was so tender, her breath caught in her throat.
“I don’t know how to be happy without you. I don’t want to live without you,” she confessed into the void.
“I don’t want to live without you, either.”
She couldn’t look away from the force of his stare. And then suddenly, Ram was on the bed and she was in his arms and he was kissing her with so much love, it snatched her breath and stole her senses. He ran his hands over her, down her arms, her back, her hair, then rose to cup her face, pulling back to look into her eyes as he did so.
“I love you, Izzy. My God, I love you more than life. I never want to be apart from you again.”
“I’ll never leave you again. I love you, Ram. I’ve loved you for so long and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize”-
He put a finger across her lips, silencing her. “No more apologies, my love. We leave all the bad in the past, tonight we start anew, tonight our marriage begins. Can you live with that?”
“Oh! There’s nothing I want more!” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly, scarce able to believe he was there, in her arms, that she hadn’t lost him, hadn’t lost her chance at happiness forever. “I love you,” she whispered, over and over against his hair.
He held her as if he’d never let her go.
***
A long while later Ram finally drew back from their embrace. He dragged his lips across her forehead. “You must rest now, Izzy. I’m a
bastard to upset you while you’re so very ill and I’m sorry. You’re still quite weak and I’ll not allow you to relapse on my watch.”
“You said no more apologies. I’ll not listen to you break the rules so quickly!
Take it back!”
He laughed, then heaved a sigh filled with exaggerated exasperation. “You’re a demanding wench for one so sick, you know.”
“Ramsay!” A thought occurred. “Do I have smallpox, then? Am I horribly disfigured?”
“Nay, love. Believe it or not, you had a dreadful bout of Influenza. Caught, no doubt, from Meg, who is even now confined to bed. We shall have her horsewhipped posthaste.”
She giggled. It seemed so long since she’d been the recipient of Ram’s tender teasing. “Only influenza?” she whispered. But as she did she realized how lucky she had been to escape smallpox. “But I went to court…”
Ram’s face grew serious. “We shall have to keep a vigilant eye on you to make sure you still do not come down with the contagion. But this was most definitely not it.” He grew thoughtful. “Those who are sick now, were exposed within the past fortnight. Like Louisa, who had been serving as one of the Princess Royal’s attendants. As you were in court within that time and in the presence of those who were infected, you may have been exposed as well.”
It didn’t bear thinking upon. If she fell ill with Smallpox on the heels of influenza, her chance of surviving was slim. Surely God wouldn’t give her this wonderful gift of love, only to snatch her away before a lifetime spent with this man. She refused to believe it.
“Will you rest?” Ram asked, stroking a hand down her hair.
She’d do anything he ever asked of her. Of course, there was no reason to tell him that and give him ideas.
“What’s amusing you?”
She bit her tongue. “Nothing. Will you stay with me?”
He studied her face closely, as if trying to read her mind. “I dare you to try and get rid of me.”
She was still smiling when she drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
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