by Darcy Burke
He cleared his throat, "Sorry, you smell so damned good, I forgot your injury. Now, I need to look at it, to see that it isn't broken."
He stood with her still in his arms. She wasn't protesting, he noticed, and counted that in his favor. He set her in the rocking chair and he sat on the low foot stool in front. Gingerly, he took her sore leg and laid it across his own. She still wore her kid boots. He untied and then unlaced the offending boot. Ella made no protest until he pulled the shoe off. She whimpered a muffled sound and he saw her eyes fill with tears.
"I know that hurt, but we needed to get it off. I will be very gentle, but you need to tell me if it hurts." She nodded, but said nothing. She was too busy biting down on her lower lip. Most women of his acquaintance would have swooned already and be demanding a physician. Ella sat stock still allowing his ministrations. He started at her knee and worked his way down her leg feeling for anything out of the ordinary. Once at her ankle, he felt her tense and then jerk when he poked the area, but he didn't feel any broken bones.
"I don't think it's broken. Can you move your toes?" He asked. She dutifully wiggled them. "I have never spent much time admiring a woman's toes, but I think I may have to start. You have very sensual toes, Mrs. R.," he quipped.
She made to pull her foot free to no avail. "Toes are not meant to be sensual, I am sure," she argued.
"No? Well, what purpose do they have? I have oft thought that pieces of the human body with no apparent use must have been added purely for my pleasure."
"Hmm," was her reply. He didn't give her the opportunity to make eye contact and see if he was joking. He continued to examine her dainty foot. It was true, he had never much cared one way or the other about a woman's foot, but Ella's were soft, delicate, finely boned, and absolutely arousing, when not swollen to twice its size, he thought. He cleared his head from the sensual fog he had fallen in.
"Well, I don't believe it is broken, but it definitely is one nasty sprain. How did you ever get home after you fell?" He asked.
"Well, it didn't start hurting until after I returned and sat by the fire," she said trying again to pull her leg free. Devon lifted her leg so he could rise, and then placed it on the footrest.
"Would you like for me to go fetch the doctor?"
"No, if it is only a sprain, there is nothing he can do."
"Well, you will have to be off that leg for at least a few days if not more." She opened her mouth to argue. He raised a hand to silence her. "It matters not what you say. You will not be able to put any weight on it for at least that long."
"Wretched! Just Wretched! How am I supposed to work? I can't knead bread and run a bakery while sitting." The frustration of it all caused her to begin trembling. Devon knew the feeling of wanting to act, but not being able to.
"I thought you said your girl Penny could run the bakery?"
"She can, if she knows ahead of time. It takes two people to make all the bread needed in one day. If it is only me, or only her, then we make one batch at night and then one again in the morning. Now, is not enough time to make the one ahead." She slumped, defeated. Devon knew it was the knowledge that the blackmailers had caused this problem.
"I will help Penny in the morning." It was a good solution, or so he thought.
Her snort of laughter was followed by "what?" That led him to believe she didn't agree.
"I will come and assist Penny with the baking in the morning and every other if you would like."
"No, absolutely not," was her strangled response.
"Why?"
"Because, you are— well you are Viscount Renwick."
"And my title has bearing because—?"
"Because, an English Lord does not knead bread dough in a bakery."
"Neither does an English Viscountess." He arched one brow challenging her to argue.
"You don't know how to make bread," she countered.
"True, but Penny will know and I will just follow her direction. You forget I spent most of my boyhood hiding in the kitchens to avoid my father and his mistresses. You don't think cook didn't put me to work? No one loitered in her kitchen long before they had a spoon in their hand." He raised his left brow to follow with the right.
"What if someone sees you?"
"How many customers do you have before the bread is made?"
She scoffed at his sarcastic tone, but didn't protest any longer. Devon was filled to bursting. Perhaps he could show her his worth at last. He was always told by the servants a true relationship was one where the two people shared a burden and helped each other. This was one way he could share her burden. If she could rise before the sun and make bread every morning for four years, surely he could do it for a few days.
"Fine, I will explain to Penny that you insisted on helping. She won't ask for reasons even if she would like to."
"Good, it is settled. Now, if you truly are to rest, you will have to be at the manor."
"Whoa! I did not agree to be at the manor. I am comfortable right here."
"True, but at the manor there are servants who can tend to you. Here, you will have to rely on Penny or me. That would take precious time away from getting the baking finished. We can have Penny explain that you left for another shopping trip if you like."
"What about the servants? They would know I was not on a shopping trip."
"Amazingly, I have found Breakerton's servants to be exceedingly loyal. I am sure all he will need is to say the word."
"I still think it best if I stay here."
"Coward." He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it, but he couldn't help poke fun at her for her apparent fear of being alone and at his mercy. It had the desired effect, however.
"Fine, I will go stay at the manor, but only until it is so I might walk on it," she said, settling more into the rocking chair. "And I am not, nor will I ever be a coward."
Devon laid his hand over his heart and bowed his head. "My deepest apologies. I was mistaken, my Lady." He was heartened by the fact she didn't argue about her title. Every other time he had used it, she had. A good sign indeed. "Now, to bind that leg for the journey." Devon rose from the bench and moved around the warm cozy space looking for something to use as a splint, and linen to use as a binding. Ella sat rocking, giving suggestions and directions. The domesticity of it was not lost on him.
If he hadn't gone tonight, would they be here now, or would she be in mortal danger with no hope for rescue? A cold chill spoiled the moment for him. If this wasn't resolved soon this very menial and domestic act might be lost forever. He found the items and crouched at Ella's feet to bind her leg. He was as gentle as he could be, but he knew the pain was still great. He had arrived ready to throttle her for putting herself in danger, but then seeing her injured and in need of help softened his resolve. Soon enough, he would have to confront her about what was going on. For now, however, Devon was going to soak up every moment he had with her.
When he was finished, he stood, swept her up into his arms, and sat in the rocking chair with her in his lap. She only wiggled in complaint for a moment, then seemed to think better of it and rested her head on his shoulder. He drew his arms around her and just basked in the feel of her warmth, her life. Until a month ago, he thought this an impossibility. He refused to lose it again. Once in a lifetime was all a man could take.
In that instant, he understood his father. He knew why the man had never divorced and remarried. He loved her, and the thought of losing another love was too much to bear. It made sense now. With Ella in his arms, her soft breath warming his ear, everything in the universe made sense. Unwilling to let her go, he gave himself a few more minutes before Ella broke free to leave a note for Penny about what happened. Then they made their way outside to his mount and made for the manor. He would be returning early and would explain things to Penny then.
After settling Ella in, what he now thought of as her room, he managed to make his way to his own chamber. A fire had been lit and upon closing the door, his valet
emerged from the changing room.
"His Lordship said you would be late, but in need of assistance upon your return, my Lord." His valet produced his silk changing robe from thin air and waited for Devon.
"Thank you." Was all Devon could manage before the valet helped him out of his coat and boots. "I will be needing to rise by half three. Will you see that I am roused from my bed?"
The man looked at him then at the clock on the mantel. "But, sir, that is but three hours from now," he stated in shock.
A strained laugh rumbled from Devon. "So it is. I had best get myself to bed then." At that, Devon crossed the room and crawled into bed. He was glad this night was over.
♥♥♥
At four o'clock the next morning, Devon rode out toward the bakery. The sun had yet to rise and Devon was certain no living creature could survive on only three hours of sleep. He let a yawn overtake his thoughts. His valet had all but swooned when he said he would be in shirtsleeves with no cravat or waistcoat. His attire felt very liberating. If he ever had the opportunity to remain in the country, this was how he would dress. Shifting in the saddle, his horse gave protest by shaking his head and snorting.
"Oh, what are you complaining about," Devon grumbled. "You weren't kept up with dreams of faceless men grabbing at your wife."
The horse blew its reply, unimpressed it seemed. The three hours allotted to him had not been three hours of mindless slumber, but a collection of nightmarish scenes with Ella being grabbed by garish figures. Devon would run after them trying to grab her back, and just when she was lost to him, he would wake in a cold sweat. So, in defense of his sleep, he might be in better spirits had they been hours of slumber.
The sun hadn't risen when Devon rode through the village. He thought of Ella warm and fast asleep. He had checked on her before he left. The maid he had insisted stay with her was curled up in a chair next to Ella, snoring. Careful not to wake her, he went around the bed. Even if he had not been exhausted, he would have wanted to join his wife. She lay snuggled into the blankets with the glow of warmth on her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell from slow rhythmic breaths. He marveled at the fact that like his daughter, he seemed to be awake watching while she slept. He was certain the view would never grow tiresome.
He turned down the alley, which at this time of the morning, was as dark as the main thoroughfare. When was the last time Ella hadn't needed to be awake before the vary farmers who rose with the sun?
Once she was back at home, he would make sure no one bothered her until well toward noon.
A warm glow, much like last night danced from the small window in the kitchen door. Devon settled his mount and entered the kitchen. Penny was busy grabbing bowls and measuring utensils, humming as she worked. As the door closed, she looked up, concern evident on her face.
"Oh, my Lord," she curtsied, "I hadn't expected you so early."
He hadn't wanted to discomfit Ella's help. He supposed it was a strange thing to see a Viscount in the kitchen in his shirtsleeves, ready to work. He chuckled to himself.
"Please, call me Devon— at least while I am taking direction from you," he tried sounding comforting. By the look on her face, his comforting needed practice. Instead of trying again just yet, he instead moved to grab an apron and settle himself at the bench where Penny had been piling things. "I do not envy you having to rise at such an ungodly hour every morning. I would not have been here had I not made sure my valet roused me. I am sure, however, that he returned to bed and is happily dozing as we speak."
She giggled. "I bet ye have the right of that, Devon." She tried out his name seeming to relax if only just. "How is Ella? When I woke and saw she hadn't found her bed, I was beside meself. It was only by chance I found your note before I ran out to find help to find her."
"She is resting. Her ankle is quite sprained, I am afraid. She could put no weight on it last night. I suspect it will be more so today."
"I tried to tell her not to head out on such a fool's errand," she said as she measured flour into the bowls.
Devon decided to test the waters. He wanted to learn about his wife and perhaps this was the person to teach him. "Well, when she mentioned that she was leaving to visit a friend..." he started but was interrupted.
"Now, —Devon." She was settling into calling him by name. "I may be of low birth, but I am not ignorant. Eric told me the way of things as he kens them. I ken you went to see her safe last night. I am still unsure of why, but I know she trusts you. So, do I. Here," She shoved the immense bowl in his direction. "Stir this until it makes into a ball."
Devon did as he was told. They worked for a time not talking. He realized how difficult bread making could be. He was amazed that Penny or Ella had the strength to mix, and then knead the large ball of dough.
"Where is Maddie? Still asleep?" Devon realized he was looking forward to her thick black curls to come bouncing down the stairs.
"As soon as I read your note, I kenned Ella would want Maddie with her, so when Eric came with the cream, I sent her to the manor."
He felt the disappointment in the pit of his stomach. He all of a sudden wished to be back at the manor, even with Clive's rude servants. However, his familial needs would have to wait, so he changed the subject before he became unsocial. "When did you come to live with Ella?" Devon asked as they shaped the dough that had already risen once into loaves.
"I met her three years ago. My Da was trying to marry me to an awful lout. I wanted none of it and fled. Ella found me in the field to the east of town. She brought me here and told me I could stay."
"I thought you have been visiting your family? Are you now on good terms?" He asked to make conversation.
"Tis better. My Da now sees a worth in what I am doing," was all she offered. They again fell into a companionable silence. Once the dough was all shaped and rising on the large workbench, Penny dismissed him. "Well, I can finish what is left here. Thank you for the assistance."
Devon was skeptical. He knew customers would soon be arriving, and the bread wasn't even in the oven yet. He thought about Ella and Maddie at the manor. "You must need someone to look after the loaves as they are baking."
"Nay, they will have to rise for some time, and then it is just a matter of putting them in the oven. This I have handled many times alone. It was just the mixing and kneading I would have been unable to do. Should I plan on making a batch later today, so I won't have to make two alone on the morrow?"
"No, I will be here in the morning as I was today. There is no reason you should have to do double the work. Why, if Ella ever decides to leave the bakery—"
"Oh, she has already told me when she is finished, I would become the baker. That is why she is training me. I am happy to just wait until she is ready."
Her statement took him aback. Ella was already thinking of leaving the bakery? Where had she planned on going? If she wasn't set on remaining the baker, she might be more easily persuaded to go back to London. "Well, then I will see you in the morning. Will the same time be sufficient?"
"Oh yes, and thank you."
"I don't mind. It is a good physical task—"
"I didn't just mean helping with the baking. I meant taking care of Ella. She needs to be taken care of instead of being the one carrying the entire burden."
Devon left very satisfied with the day. He now had Penny on his side, but he didn't bother telling Penny that taking care of Ella was like cuddling a full grown tiger. It might be necessary, but you are taking your life into your own hands.
♥♥♥
The sun had been peeking through the thick curtain for some time before Ella chose to acknowledge it. The maid had left a while ago thinking her still asleep. She had been awake when Devon came in earlier. After four years, it was just natural for her to wake up so early. She watched him from the slits in her eyelids. He hadn't made a move to touch her, but just knowing he was watching her sleep did amazing things to her body. It was still humming as she shifted beneath the wealth of
soft fluffy counterpane.
She froze. The pain in her ankle started around her foot and shot up her leg like a lightning bolt. She cried out with the pain.
Damn, she had almost forgotten last night: Devon holding her in the chair, falling in the dark, the blackmailers, her dark family secret. She wasn't sure what time it was, but she was sure Devon would be almost finished at the bakery. Sadness welled within her. Her father, or her stepfather as she should now call him, had often said life was a cruel gamble. If only she could have kept her feelings for Devon unknown to herself. Now, she would have to leave. She couldn't see the reproach in his eyes when he found out what she was.
She was such a coward and not a good one at that, unlike what she had told him last night. A good coward would have been able to hide their true feelings out of fear of being hurt. But, no, she had to begin to believe in something she hadn't realized she wanted so badly. She laughed at her foolishness. She needed to get up. Being in bed when Devon came home would not be wise. She knew what they would both be thinking about. Neither would mention it, but it would be there nonetheless. Gingerly, sliding her legs around, careful not to wiggle her ankle, she dangled her feet over the edge. Her ankle throbbed. The bell pull was just out of her reach, so she managed to hop the few steps to grab it. Today would be a trial many ways.
Chapter 11
The sun all but blinded Devon on his ride home. It felt warm and fresh on his face. After the darkness of the kitchen, it was a stark contrast. It wasn't lost on him that Ella spent every day in that kitchen and then most of her afternoons in the shop. He had never spent much time thinking about those outside of his employ, or to his disappointment, his lower servants. He reveled in the out of doors. The fresh air and unrestraint of it was enthralling. To have whole days go by and not have spent at least a few hours outside was painful to consider. He shook off the offending feeling, but promised himself to make sure all his staff had more time to themselves. At the moment, finding Ella and Maddie were his priority. He wanted to speak with Ella about how capable Penny was and how well run and organized her business appeared to be. Those were things he knew she would care to hear. He pushed his horse into a trot.