Authors: Heather Boyd
Constance knew very little about the late Lord Orkney. The rushed wedding hadn’t afforded Pixie the chance to attend. She’d felt a little betrayed by the slight. When her friend’s letters failed to mentioned him after the wedding, except to inform her of his death a month later, Constance hadn’t pressed for information. Virginia spent years mourning at her brother’s estate. She had secluded herself from everyone.
Virginia rolled into a ball as a large shudder wracked her. Constance should not have asked. She should have left Virginia alone with her heartbreak.
“Orkney attacked and beat me.”
What? Virginia’s words cut through the room like an explosion, any thoughts of sadness burned away by anger. Orkney had hurt Virginia? It was impossible to believe it could happen, yet Virginia would never lie—not about something like this.
“Why?” Constance blurted out, unable to comprehend how such a mild mannered gentleman would change. All of Virginia’s early letters had praised Orkney’s warm and gentle nature.
“He was sick. He liked inflicting pain on his lovers.”
A tear fell down Constance’s cheek at the thought. She brushed it away impatiently and wrapped her arms about her friend. “I should not have asked. I didn’t know Orkney had hurt you.”
“No one knows. Jack protected me from the scandal, and from my husband.”
“It must be terrible to hold this secret so close. Do you want to talk about it?” Constance asked, reluctant, but determined to support her friend. When Virginia hesitated she added, “Or should I fetch your brother?”
“No, I don’t need Jack. He knows you’re with me.” Virginia scrubbed away her tears. “I could never understand why Orkney changed. He said the vilest things. I did not understand. I still do not. On … on our wedding night, he pounced on me – there is no other word for it. I never expected that. He had always been so gentle.”
The shuddering breath Virginia took ripped at Constance’s composure.
“He threw me on the bed – ripped my … ripped my clothes. He went crazy, biting and scratching. He held me down. I was so afraid, Pixie. I hope you never know how terrifying it is to be so powerless. He abused me so badly that Jack felt it in London, and he came for me. I am so ashamed that my brother had to see me in that state, but I doubt I would have survived more …” Virginia sobbed and curled into a tighter ball.
Tears streamed down Constance’s face at the terror her friend had endured. She took a deep breath, struggling for control and awkwardly rubbed Virginia’s back.
Virginia sniffed. “I remember watching as Jack hammered Orkney’s face. Jack left him bleeding on the floor for what he had done to me. Poor Jack, he was drunk by the time we got home. He had to numb the pain, you see. Sometimes we feel too much. I was confined to bed for three weeks. Three weeks of my life I cannot remember or ever get back.”
“Who looked after you?”
It was not like Jack to neglect his sister. Someone else had to have seen and thankfully held their tongue.
“I … I am not sure I remember clearly. It is strange too. The incident has never come up in conversation. I … no, nothing.” Virginia’s confused eyes were dry now but red rimmed.
“You said Jack was beating Orkney, but you were watching. Was someone else there? Was Hallam with him?”
Virginia rolled away. “Oh, God, no.”
~ * ~
Jack paced his study, agitated because of his sister. A dam had just burst open and his heart beat far too fast. If not for Pixie’s presence upstairs, he would be up there too. He poured himself a drink, hands shaking with the effort not to spill a drop, as Hallam came up beside him.
“Bad?”
Jack poured the brandy down his throat in one gulp and reached for the decanter. “Yes, very bad.”
Hallam took the decanter. “You better let me do that. More in the glass is preferable to wasting it on the furniture.”
As Jack raised his refilled glass to his lips, a wisp of color hovered at the door. Pixie moved into the room and directly to him. He wrapped her in his arms as she sobbed her heart out.
“Are you all right?” Jack asked, after giving her time to calm down.
She shook her head and burrowed deeper into his coat, her hands exploring his inner pockets to find his handkerchief.
“Virginia told me what happened,” Pixie sobbed, wriggling as she wiped her eyes.
Hallam’s breath hissed out beside them, followed by a lengthy series of curses.
“Were you there, Hallam? Did you carry her from the house and bring them home?” Pixie turned in Jack’s arms to glimpse Hallam’s distraught face.
Jack kept hold. What Pixie saw would make everything clearer. Hallam cared a great deal for a woman who’d married a monster. He knew everything that transpired the night Jack had almost lost Virginia.
“I was with Jack when he became ill,” Hallam stated briskly. “We guessed Virginia was in trouble.”
“You guessed. I thought it was my dinner,” Jack replied, forever grateful for Hallam’s clear thinking that night.
“Thank you. Thank you for taking care of them,” she whispered.
Hallam nodded. “It was nothing.”
“Not nothing. Virginia needed you, just as she does now.”
“Has she remembered everything?”
Pixie shrugged. “She didn’t say much, but perhaps you could fill in the gaps for her. You were with her, weren’t you?”
Hallam nodded, turned on his heel, and stalked out.
“Are you matchmaking, Pixie?” Jack pulled her tight to him, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
“Yes, well, I doubt I could make a career of it. What do I know about anything?”
Jack turned her and lifted Pixie’s chin so he could see her eyes. They were red from crying, but so achingly familiar. “A great deal, I think. You bring sunshine just by being here. Everybody loves being near you, Pixie.”
“I’m sure you can’t wait to see the back of me,” she whispered.
“Shh, don’t say such nasty things. You’re distressed.” He rubbed his hand over her back soothingly. “I thought we had gotten past arguing over nothing.”
Holding Pixie close demolished Jack’s anxiety. Hallam would be with Virginia now. He had no doubts that Hallam would confess his part in the business at last, and there would be one less reason for tension between his sister and his friend.
Pressing a kiss to Pixie’s hair, Jack committed himself to courting her. If she felt even the tiniest portion of the bliss he felt now, they could have a good life together.
Pixie’s breath puffed warm through the fine linen of his shirt and against his skin. Nipples hardening, he berated himself. He really was trying to give comfort and it was bad form to get an erection in the process. But this attraction was too potent to ignore. Surely, she must feel it too.
“How did you leave matters with Blamey?” Jack really did not want to talk about him, but it might help to prolong this embrace.
“I don’t believe he will call again,” Pixie confessed. “And his absence won’t bother me in the least. I’ll be assured of a long life without him.”
Pixie’s hands settled at his waist, skimming under the bottom edge of his waistcoat. Damn, she could arouse him without trying. He crushed the urge to grind his hips into her, but he could not stop his breath from churning in and out.
“Perhaps Blamey isn’t a good choice for a long and healthy life. Especially if you want to travel,” he murmured. But the thought of bending down and kissing those soft lips proved very difficult to ignore.
“I would like to travel, but it doesn’t seem likely.”
Pixie drew small circles on his shirt with her fingertips, keeping time with his own hand movements across her back.
A rush of desire swept his skin. He gulped. “You will have to tell me where you would like to go. I’m sure something can be arranged.”
“That is kind of you, but not now.”
Constance twisted her head and pressed her cheek against his chest. He told his hands to behave as they brushed down the length of her back—kept away from the derrière he longed to stoke by a willpower he was surprised he had. When she drew in a great, shuddering breath, his pulse quickened.
“You should get some rest, Pixie. It has been a long day,” Jack murmured into her hair.
She did not answer. He leaned sideways to see her face and found her asleep in his arms. He nudged her. Her eyes flickered then shut again. She was faking. Amused, Jack picked her up and juggled her to reach the latch for the secret passageway.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to bed.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, his desire almost blinded him. He couldn’t act on it tonight. It was too soon. She had only just buried her past dislike of him. If he attempted to make love to her tonight he was afraid she might laugh.
Since Pixie was tiny and weighed next to nothing, he navigated the tunnel easily without hitting her feet against the walls. He passed through his sitting room, out onto the balcony, and entered her bedchamber quickly, hoping no one saw them like this. Luckily, her maid was not in the room.
Pixie didn’t speak as he pulled the balcony door closed behind him and tried to decide what to do. Put her on the bed alone or join her there? Perhaps he shouldn’t ask himself questions.
At the bedside, he tried to be dispassionate about the situation, but he found it hard. She slipped her shoes from her feet while he pulled the pins from her hair, then he tucked her into bed, day gown and all, ignoring the desire to play with the dark strands of hair that spilled over her pillow.
Jack pulled the blankets over her shoulders and was surprised when Pixie grabbed his hand. She kept her eyes closed and that was probably a good thing. She would not see the erection tenting his breeches that way.
He leaned down, pressed his lips to her hair. “Thank you for helping Virginia. Your presence has made such a difference. I think she will be able to let go of the past and move on now.”
He kissed her hair again, but she clutched at his hand tighter.
“Stay with me,” she murmured sleepily, “until I fall asleep.”
Jack could not have been more shocked. That was a dangerous thing to suggest, given his state. He was not sure he could trust himself to behave. The thought made him angry. He would prove his mind the master of his body.
“Just this once, little one.” He brushed her hair away from the pillow and lowered himself on top of the blankets. “Lift your head.”
He hoped this was truly what she wanted. The day had been so full of drama that she’d hardly know what she was doing. He wasn’t sure he did.
When he had her settled in the crook of his arm, her back to his front, she pulled his hand around her and up between her breasts. Desire threatened to overwhelm him as she held his fingers close to her heart. The warmth of her skin, so provocative, so wonderfully tempting that he had to stroke his fingers just a little.
She didn’t shriek, but grumbled in pleasure before falling fast asleep.
~ * ~
Bernard scratched on Virginia’s door and stepped in without waiting on a response. The room was cool and dark and he crossed the chamber, grabbed a lump of wood and brought the fire back to life. Rubbing his hands, he sat back, and waited for Virginia to speak.
“How long were you with me?”
Bernard wouldn’t lie. “Every day.”
He stood and turned toward the sound of her voice. Virginia had curled up on the window seat, watching him come with firelight reflecting off her tired eyes. He slowly sat beside her, terrified of scaring her again.
“I should remember clearly, but all that comes to mind was being warm.” Her glance flickered to the flames. “You are very good with fires.”
“You don’t enjoy being cold. It was the best I could do.”
“Why is it that I can’t remember?”
Bernard ran a hand over his face. “Your injuries were very bad. The doctor had to sedate you to treat you. When he finished his work and the potion had worn off, you began to dream and thrash about. I was afraid you would aggravate your injuries so I persuaded the doctor to administer more until you were healing.”
“You decided?”
“Jack was … he was not well, I’m afraid. He couldn’t help you and it was tearing him apart. I kept him foxed most of the time. The duke approved wholeheartedly when he arrived.”
“My uncle saw me?”
Bernard shook his head. “I would not allow him near you. I knew you wouldn’t want him to see.”
Bernard watched her absorb that information. The press of her hand to her face was the only sign she was discomforted. He wished he could make this easier for her.
“I would rather that you hadn’t seen, either,” she whispered.
“Do you really believe I could stay away after I had glimpsed what that monster had done?”
He didn’t get an immediate reply, so he left her alone for a few moments to think. He returned to his room, grabbed up a decanter of whiskey and two glasses, and returned to find her where he had left her. He poured two glasses then passed one to her.
Virginia took his offering, hands trembling, and sipped the amber liquid. When it was all gone, he kept refilling her glass until she started to slump.