Addicted

by Charlotte Featherstone

  He spat into the bowl, coughing up the last of the bile. Anais wiped his mouth and covered his brow with a clean cloth. He was sweating profusely. But she didn’t care. She took him into her arms and held him to her. He fell peacefully back to sleep in her embrace.

  He slept most of the day, only waking to be sick. Sometimes he moaned in his sleep and thrashed around. Anais knew then that his body ached. So she would either rub his limbs, or, if he was steady enough, she would help him into the spring bath, which seemed to help him the most.

  She had even shaved him in the bath. “Angel of mercy,” he said, with the first smile she had seen in weeks from him. Shaving him had been an intimate act, bringing them closer than they ever had been. Afterward, they had relaxed in the water, touching and whispering and taking support from one another. That hour in the water had sapped Lindsay of his energy, and she’d helped him back to bed where he slept peacefully beneath a sheet.

  There were no more secrets, nothing to hide behind. They loved one another, despite what they had done to each other. They had asked for forgiveness from each other in the quiet of the dark.

  The future, while fraught with uncertainty, held a glimmer of light, a light that had not been present four days ago.

  “My love?” Lindsay asked, as he swallowed, his throat dry. The room was quiet and he raised his head, looking for Anais. He found her, asleep in a chair. Dark circles were beneath her eyes and she looked as though she had lost weight. He frowned at that thought. He liked her plump and luscious. She had seen to his needs to the cost of her own. It was now time he repaid the favor.

  Rising from the divan, his body still hurt, but his head felt better. The craving for opium was now only a little whisper, not the roar that it had been. He was hungry, he realized as his belly grumbled loudly for the first time in months.

  He walked the short distance to Anais, and picked her up. She didn’t move, didn’t even flutter her lashes. She was exhausted, his angel. As she should be. She had been the one, the only one, to see him through the hell of these past days and nights. She had never left his side. True to her words, she had always been there whenever he opened his eyes. There were times when he hated to see her, times when he wished that she were replaced by an opium pipe. Yet there had been other times when Anais’s arms and body had been the only thing keeping him sane.

  The words they had repeated while holding each other in the baths, their mantra that had given them both the strength to see this through came to his lips.

  He kissed her brow. “My love for you will never die, Anais. Never.”

  He had at last made peace with himself. It was a good start.

  “You wanted to speak with me?”

  Lindsay looked over his shoulder to see Broughton standing in the doorway of the study. With a nod, he ushered his friend in and waved to an empty chair by the hearth.

  “I…” Lindsay swallowed hard and gazed out the window, gathering the courage to speak. “I must beg your forgiveness, Garrett,” he said, using his friend’s Christian name for the first time ever. “The way I charged into your house, the way I spoke to you—the accusations,” he said, turning at last to look at his friend. “I was wrong. So wrong to treat you like I did. I know, and knew then, that you had only tried to do what was right. It was just…”

  “The opium ruled then.”

  Lindsay nodded. “In part, but I cannot always blame my behavior on the opium. As much as I want opium to take the fall for this, I cannot. It was me. I am responsible for the way I treated you. I was angry, disillusioned, hurt,” he said. “I had a child. A child I wanted, and couldn’t have. A child I lost through my own faults. I was lashing out, trying to hurt everyone around me. I saw everyone’s culpability except my own. I didn’t want to see it or acknowledge that I had been partly responsible. I know now that I must accept that blame. What I said to you was inexcusable.”

  Broughton nodded and rose from the chair. Lindsay extended his hand. “Thank you, Garrett, for protecting my daughter and Anais when I should have. My gratitude knows no bounds. You are the very best of friends. A better friend to me, than I have been to you.”

  Broughton grasped his hand and tugged him into a hug. “Good God, you’ve done it,” he said, “you’ve licked this addiction and come back to us.”

  Lindsay clapped Broughton’s back. “Not fully back yet, but soon, I hope. I will not lie, I’ve thought of opium twice since I began speaking to you.”

  “You’ll fight this,” Broughton grumbled. “And you’ll win, too. Bloody hell, Raeburn, I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “I know that now. It just took time and a harsh look within to realize it.”

  Broughton shook his hand, pumping it up and down with exuberance. “Let us speak no more against each other.”

  “Agreed.” His friend was about to leave when Lindsay stopped him. “I realize it’s a bit premature to be asking favors, but I wonder if I might beg of your indulgence?”

  With a nod, Broughton regained his seat, listening to Lindsay’s request.

  Anais stepped into the cottage and closed the door. The wick was burning in the oil lamp on the commode and a fire was roaring in the brick hearth. “Garrett? I received your note. You wished to see me?”

  Looking around the cottage, she saw no sign of Garrett. Frowning, she pulled her gloves from her hands and untied the satin ribbons securing her bonnet.

  “Are you here?” she asked again as she folded her cape and placed it over the arms of the rattan chair that sat by the door.

  “I am here.”

  Anais whirled around and saw Lindsay standing in the door that led from the water closet. In his arms was Mina, snuggled up against his chest, her sweet face pressed into his neck. He looked so strong, so noble standing there. She realized she was looking upon the old Lindsay, the one of her youth, the one who held the world in his palm.

  Every minute locked in the room with him was worth it, if only to see him looking like this.

  “I had Garrett write the missive, Anais. It was me—us—who needed to see you.”

  “What purpose…for wh…wh…” she stuttered like a simpleton as he stepped closer to her with the baby.

  “You said you never got to hold her. That confession broke my heart.”

  He stood before her and brushed her hair away from her face before tucking some curls behind her ear. “I was such a selfish bastard. I just barged into Broughton’s home and demanded to see her. I never dreamed you had not been able to touch her.”

  “I must go,” she murmured and she cursed herself when she allowed her gaze to drop from Lindsay’s face to rest upon Mina’s pink cheek that rested against the naked skin of Lindsay’s throat.

  He reached for her wrist and held her. “Don’t leave. There is no point in running. We—both of us—are through running from our demons.”

  She tried to shake her head but he shhed her and drew her over to the bed where he had her sit and lean back against the pillows. He looked down at her, his eyes glowing a brilliant shade of green, and placed Mina in her arms.

  “This is how it should have been, me placing our daughter in your arms.”

  She gasped, sobbed, cried out and smiled all at once when she felt the weight of Mina in her arms. When she looked down at the tousled mop of black curls, she cried, fat, scalding tears that slid down her cheeks.

  “Are you crying or laughing?” he asked as he stretched out beside her. “I see tears, but I see a big smile, too.”

  “Oh, God, Lindsay, she’s beautiful. I never…I didn’t know she was this perfect. She looks like you.” She grinned, looking at him. “She has your wild hair and your eyes.”

  “I see you in her, too. She has the shape of your face and your cheeks.”

  “Oh, God, I cannot believe we made her.”

  Lindsay laughed. “We did indeed. I remember the night very well. It was perfect. Beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she continued to cradle Mina in h
er arms. “Thank you for this.”

  “Thank you for her, Anais. Even though she cannot be a part of our lives in any true sense, I am thankful for her. I am happy that I had this time with her—and I am happy that we have this time to share together.”

  Anais nodded and rocked Mina back and forth in her arms, her gaze cataloging Mina’s features and implanting them in her memory.

  Lindsay nodded and trailed his fingertips along Mina’s little hand that was pressed against Anais’s breasts. “I have made my peace with Broughton. I thanked him for taking care of you and Mina when it should have been up to me to see to both of your safety.”

  “I am glad you’ve made peace. You were always good friends. I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

  “You were always between us, Anais. I knew that. I had known for a long time that Broughton held a special affection for you. I suppose that is why I believed it so easily that you chose to be with him.”

  “Garrett loves me, Lindsay, but not in the way you think.”

  “Why didn’t you marry him?”

  “Because what Garrett and I have is special. It is a very deep friendship, but it is not a physical one. I could have grown to love him, I suppose, but I could not have felt for Garrett what I physically feel for you. I could not cheat him out of a passionate marriage. I couldn’t do that.”

  He nodded and motioned for her to hand him Mina. “You look tired, Anais. I know these days have been hard on you. I put you through hell. Why don’t you get undressed and slip beneath the covers. I will give Mina to you and you can both sleep.”

  “I shouldn’t—”

  “Just down to your chemise, Anais. You can trust me.”

  Sleep. The word sounded like heaven and Anais easily gave in to the lure of the thick coverlet and the beckoning sheets.

  “We have a few hours yet with her, Anais. Sleep for a bit and I will wake you.”

  Dressed in her chemise, Anais pulled back the corner of the quilt and slipped beneath. True to his word, Lindsay placed Mina in the crook of her arm. She smiled and traced the chubby contours of Mina’s cheeks.

  “Sleep,” he whispered as he brushed her hair away from her cheeks. “Sleep.”

  Lindsay watched as Anais’s eyes grew heavy and finally closed. He lay there for some time, his head propped in his hand, just watching Anais and his daughter sleeping together. It was as perfect a picture as he could ever imagine.

  A profound sense of rightness settled into his chest. He loved this woman. He loved this babe. He would fight for them and the future that hung in the balance.

  “Lindsay?” Anais murmured sleepily as her eyelids slowly lifted.

  “I’m here.” Unable to stand it any longer he leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. “I’m here—forever, Anais.”

  Her lashes fluttered and she looked up at him with wide blue eyes.

  “Forgive and you will be forgiven,” he said, his voice cracking. “Is that true?”

  She nodded and reached for him. “I lied when I told you the love was gone, Lindsay. It has never left. It has only grown stronger. These past days with you have made me realize it. I love you. We are destined to be together in good times and bad.”

  “I don’t need to hide anymore, do I, Anais?”

  “No, Lindsay. No more hiding. We are both as we ever were, I think. Faults and all.”

  “Can you believe in me again, Anais?”

  “Yes. Can you forgive me?”

  “I already have. Anais, I love you so damn much.”

  “Kiss me, Lindsay,” she purred and he cupped her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes. “Love me.”

  “Forever. With everything I have, I will love you.” He slipped a plain gold band around her finger. “I had bought you something big and expensive, then realized it wasn’t right. We don’t need anything flashy to tell the world of our love and commitment. Just this simple band, with no beginning or end. Like my love for you.”

  “Lindsay,” she said, looking up at him through her tears. “You have come back to be the man of my dreams. My commitment to you has never been stronger. I know the days, the weeks ahead will be a struggle for you. But I am here. Every step of the way.”

  He squeezed her hand and kissed Mina’s head. “The world looks different to me now, Anais. The future is bright. I can’t wait to start it. It was so beautiful this day, to awaken and find you at the end of the tunnel standing in a ray of light. I have hope now, where I only ever had fear. Thank you for that, angel.”

  Pressing her head to his, they looked down at their daughter, peace stealing over them. Lindsay was right. The future was theirs.

  Epilogue

  “Oh my God!” Lindsay cried. “I swear I shall practice celibacy, every day for the rest of my life! I swear it, Anais.”

  Anais drew in a long breath and held it before pushing with all her might.

  “Very good, Anais,” Dr. Thornley muttered. “Now, you will want to push longer the next time. You are almost there. You, Lord Raeburn, might wish to quit your caterwauling and assist your wife by supporting her legs.”

  Anais, sweating and tired, lay limp against Lindsay’s chest. He was on his knees, supporting her weight and insisting that she allow him to do everything required of a man who was about to become a father.

  “Another one,” she panted, drawing her breath as she pushed again.

  “Oh my God,” Lindsay said over and over as their baby’s head crowned.

  “Yes, well, God is not here at the moment, Raeburn, so you might act in his stead and ready that towel beside you.”

  “Right,” Lindsay grumbled and Anais felt his shaking, panicking hands searching the bedcovers for the towel.

  “Now, a nice slow, steady push, Lady Raeburn. This should be the last one.”

  And with a little push, a screaming babe was pulled from her womb.

  “A boy!” Lindsay cried as the doctor placed the bellowing baby on to the towel that Lindsay held. Immediately he wrapped the babe in the towel and clutched the squirming newborn to his chest.

  “Look,” he whispered and Anais could hear his voice shaking. “Our son, Anais. He’s so beautiful—you’re beautiful.”

  “And this is why,” the doctor said to the student he was training, “husbands routinely assisting their wives in childbirth will never come into fashion. They are a damned nuisance if you ask me. They require more assurance than the mother.”

  “Not even your ribbing,” he said with a glare to the doctor, “is enough to mar this moment. It was absolutely incredible,” Lindsay said, kissing her brow. “Utterly amazing. I think I shall deliver the next one myself.”

  “Ugh,” Anais groaned as another contraction seized her.

  “What is it, love? What’s wrong?” Lindsay asked, panic seizing his voice.

  “Ah, here comes the afterbirth,” Thornley announced. “No problems with it at all. Now, lad,” he said to his assistant, “you’ve seen your first babe being birthed, what do you think? Lad?” The doctor looked over his shoulder then dropped his gaze to the carpet.

  “I think,” Lindsay said with a laugh as he rocked his son, “that the lad should choose another line of work.”

  “Bloody hell,” he snapped as he bent down and waved his hand above the pale face of his student. “Damned afterbirth gets them every time.”

  Lindsay smiled and bent down to kiss Anais and placed his son in her arms. “Thank you, Anais, for our son.”

  She smiled and cupped his cheek. “Will you give me a few minutes and then come back?”

  Lindsay saw that the nurse was carrying a bowl of water and a pile of linens were draped over her arm. Thornley was dragging a still swooning student from the room, and he could hear his father grumbling loudly in the hall.

  “I’ll go tell Mother and Father the news, then I’ll return.”

  “Here,” she laughed. “Don’t you want to take him and show him off?”

  Lindsay grabbed his son from her
arms and kissed her hard before striding to the door.

  “About bloody time!” Weatherby snapped and then Anais heard his voice soften and break with emotion. “Damn me, boy, he’s all you. Our blood runs true, does it not?”

  “It does, indeed, Father.” And a few tears crept out of Anais’s eyes when she heard the pride and love in Lindsay’s voice.

  Hours later, after the sun had set and the oil lamps had been lit, Anais sat up in bed with her son at her breast and her husband at her side. She watched Lindsay’s long fingers stroking the black curls on their son’s head as the babe suckled eagerly.

  “I received a letter from Middleton today. We did the right thing, allowing Mina to go to Robert and Margaret,” Lindsay murmured as he watched his son nursing. “She’s as happy as a clam. And Middleton is clearly besotted with her.” Anais smiled and brushed her fingertips along his whiskered cheek. “He says she’s walking now, such a precocious little thing. I wonder where she inherited that from?” he teased before kissing her soundly. “We shall have to purchase her a pony. Riding will be in her blood.”

  “She is a bit young for a pony, don’t you think?”

  He grinned up at her and winked. “Never too young for horses, my love.”

  “True,” she said, looking down at her son.

  “Anais?” Lindsay asked softly as he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Have you gotten everything you wanted? I mean…are you happy?”

  “Happy enough that I didn’t kick you when you mentioned having another child.”

  “So, very happy then?”

  “Blissfully happy and completely in love.”

  “Me, too,” he whispered. “I could not imagine a life more perfect than the one I’m living at this very moment.”