Silk And Steel Part 9

EIGHT.

Kathryn awoke with a start. She blinked several times, oddly out of focus, and glanced at her surroundings, finding herself in an upstairs bedchamber with a sloping wooden ceiling and a wide-planked wooden floor.

Ruffled muslin curtains hung at the windows and an oak bureau sat against one wall, a blue willow porcelain bowl and pitcher resting atop it. She ran a hand over the colorful blue quilt on the bed, then looked down at her night rail and saw that the sleeve was not frayed as she remembered. It was spotlessly clean, and no red band marked the neckline as if it were stained with blood.

Wherever she was, it wasn't St. Bart's, and a feeling of relief overrode her uncertainty.

Kathryn frowned, trying to put the pieces together, s.n.a.t.c.hes of memory rising here and there. Her head ached abominably and her mind felt muzzy and out of focus. Her tongue seemed to stick to the inside of her mouth and her stomach felt queasy.

She concentrated harder, recalled riding somewhere in a carriage, thought back further, remembered being lifted into a man's strong arms. Lucien! The memory arose with a jolt of awareness and an odd little tingle that filtered into her heart.

Lucien had come for her. He had brought her here to safety in this place. Surely he was somewhere near.

Ignoring the pounding in her head, Kathryn swung her feet to the edge of the bed, but a wave of dizziness a.s.saulted her. She sat there a moment, fighting down the spinning in her head, her limbs weak and oddly shaking. With a surge of effort, she forced herself up on her feet and made her way behind the screen in the corner to relieve herself, holding on to the wall for support.

When she finished, she poured water into the basin on the dresser and completed her ablutions as best she could. Her hair was clean and it had been braided. She wondered who had helped her bathe.

She lifted the latch and stepped into the opening, stared down into the single, cozy room below. Lucien stood in front of a big stone hearth, his dark head bent over a heavy iron kettle, stirring something in the pot.

She must have made some sound for he looked up just then and saw her. "Kathryn!" He was on his feet and racing up the stairs, his arm coming around her waist to steady her there in the doorway.

"You shouldn't be out of bed. You're too weak."

Her eyes found his face, saw the concern there. "You came for me. You took me away from that horrible place."

His gaze met hers, a.s.sessing her in some way. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Not much, only an image here and there."

Some of the tension seemed to drain from his shoulders. He smiled, softening the hard lines of his face. "I had to come. I'd left you there too long already." He lifted her hand, pressed a light kiss on the palm, and a warm little shiver slid up her arm. " 'My ever-esteemed duty p.r.i.c.ks on me.' "

Kathryn frowned, trying to drag the author of the quote into her head, but her thoughts were simply too fuzzy. "I know it, but I can't seem to get it clear in my mind."

Lucien gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Shakespeare. In time you will once more recall."

"In time? What has happened to me, Lucien? What did they do?" A wave of dizziness rocked her and she bit down on her lip. Lucien's hand shot out to steady her. "They gave me something. I remember now. At first I didn't want to take it, but after a while I didn't care. In a strange way, I even began to like it."

He slid an arm beneath her knees and lifted her up, carried her back to the bed. "It was a drug. In time the effects will wear off."

"What sort of drug?"

"Opium. Do you know it?"

Her brows came together in a frown. "It is sometimes used to alleviate pain. I should have suspected something like that. I should have guessed what it was. I would have fought them harder."

"You weren't thinking clearly. And you couldn't have stopped them even if you had tried." He set her down on the feather mattress, helped her slide beneath the covers, then tucked them beneath her chin.

"Where are we?"

"My hunting lodge. It's impossible to find unless you know where to look. You'll be safe here until we can see you safe from Dunstan."

The drum inside her head pounded harder against her skull and her stomach rolled again. "I know what opium does in small doses. I don't know what happens to someone who has been given as much as I have."

Lucien sat down in the chair beside the bed. "Jason says your body will crave the drug." He looked down at her hands, saw how badly they were shaking. "I believe it does so already."

"You are saying it will make me ill? How bad will it be?"

He shrugged wide shoulders. "We'll have to wait and see. I know little about such things."

"Oh, dear Lord-I've been such a burden already."

"You are no burden. And soon you will be as strong as you were before."

She only shook her head, which continued to pound like a battering ram.

"Perhaps you will be lucky," Lucien said with a look of encouragement that gave her a thread of hope. She was healthy. Perhaps her body would shake off the drug without much of a problem.

But she wasn't lucky, and by morning of the following day she was in agony. Her body was drenched in perspiration and her heart beat frantically. Her breath came in shallow little pants. She was alternately hot and then cold, her muscles aching and twitching, her body so restless she thrashed on the mattress and couldn't stay still.

Lucien had come to her room several times, but each time she had sent him away, embarra.s.sed that he should see her this way. A few minutes later, he would return on one pretext or another, his face dark with concern, and what she thought might be a deep-rooted sort of rage.

Again his knock came at the door and he shoved it open without her permission, correct in a.s.suming it would not come.

"I have a cup of broth for you. Bennie brought it over along with some bread and meat. I'm afraid I can't cook a lick." He glanced down at the cup she made no move to reach for. "Perhaps you can take just a bit."

Kathryn shook her head, her stomach rolling at the thought, but the marquess paid no heed, just sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed the cup against her lips. Kathryn turned her head away, the steam from the broth making her nose start to run. She sniffed, then swiped at it with the sleeve of her night rail, her face heating up with embarra.s.sment.

Lucien paid no heed, just retrieved a handkerchief from the top bureau drawer, handed it over, and waited while Kathryn blew her nose. "Please go away."

"You are in no shape to be left alone."

A fresh round of chills began, shaking her body so hard she could barely speak. "I'll be f-fine as soon as the drug wears off. You s-said so yourself."

"I'm certain you will."

"Then p-please, just leave me alone."

Lucien turned away, his hands balling into fists. "d.a.m.n the lot of them. d.a.m.n them to b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." He strode to the door and yanked it open, slammed it loudly behind him.

Kathryn curled up on the bed, drawing her legs up beneath her. Her body spasmodically twitched and jerked, and the chills returned with a vengeance. This time not even the stack of covers the marquess had piled on top of her was enough to keep her warm. Her teeth were chattering so loudly she was certain the noise must have summoned him up the stairs.

The door opened and the marquess walked in. His bold black brows drew nearly together at the sight of her shivering on the bed.

"You're freezing. Dammit, I knew I should have stayed with you."

"I've b-blankets enough to outfit a s-small regiment of soldiers. Nothing seems to h-help."

He pondered that. Then he was striding toward her, sitting down on the edge of the bed and tugging off his black knee-high boots.

"W-what are you d-doing?"

"Getting you warm, but you'll have to move over so that I can get in."

She started to protest. It was hardly seemly to allow a man into her bed, especially one as handsome as the Marquess of Litchfield. But another round of chills rattled through her, and he simply gave her no choice, urging her firmly toward the opposite side of the bed, lifting up the covers and settling his long length beside her. Even through his linen shirt and snug black breeches, she could feel his heat and the hardness of his body. Litchfield pulled her into the curve of his arm, surrounding her with his warmth and his tall, lean form, tugging the blankets up over them both.

She had never been this close to a man before, never been pressed so fully against one. She was certain few men were as beautifully built, as cleanly muscled. She could feel the hard ridges across his ribs and the flat indentation of his stomach. Long sinewy thighs pressed against her, and the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched whenever he moved. Even as sick as she was, the feeling stirred an odd little thrill of pleasure and she found herself wondering how all that sleek muscle would look unhampered by clothes.

It was an unwanted thought and she forced it away, concentrated instead on the warmth seeping into her body. In minutes, the shaking began to ease. She was tired, she realized, exhausted clear to the bone. Her eyelids felt thick and swollen, drooping lower and lower until finally she fell asleep.

As she slept, she dreamed. Images appeared. She was riding in the marquess's carriage, sitting on his lap as the vehicle rumbled along. She saw herself asking him to kiss her, not once but again and again. The dream shifted and he was removing her clothes, lifting her into a steaming tub of water, soaping a cloth and running it over her body. She dreamed he carried her upstairs and settled her on the bed. In the dream, he finally kissed her, ravishing her mouth, gently cupping a breast.

A spiral of heat slid through her, settled low in her stomach. Kathryn awoke with a start, her mind still churning with disjointed images. Lucien was no longer beside her, nor anywhere in the room. She dragged in a steadying breath, still weary and slightly out of balance, but for the most part, the aftereffects of the drug appeared to be gone. She roused herself from the bed, her limbs feeling heavy, her eyelids gritty.

She pulled on the heavy silk wrapper she found at the foot of the bed, washed her face, unbraided and brushed her hair, but the jumble of images in her mind remained. It was only a dream, she told herself. Put it out of your mind. But something wouldn't let her, and suddenly she knew why. It wasn't a dream, she recalled with sudden clarity. It was a memory!

A sweet, warm memory.

A hotly embarra.s.sing memory.

Dear, sweet G.o.d!

She heard him coming up the stairs a few minutes later, and her body went rigid with tension. The awful notion occurred to her-she had asked him to kiss her and he had complied. Dear Lord, what else had they done?

Litchfield knocked on the door, but he didn't walk in. Instead he waited patiently for her invitation. She swallowed back her worry and opened the door, her cheeks going warm at the sight of him.

He was dressed in tight-fitting breeches and a full-sleeved white shirt, ruffled at the wrist and down the front. His dark hair was left unpowdered as it usually was and queued back with a wide black bow.

His eyes ran over her face, noting the flush in her cheeks, the hair she had brushed and tied back with a length of yellow ribbon she had found on the dresser.

"How are you feeling?"

Kathryn glanced away, thinking of his kiss, unable to face him. It was early morning outside the window, the forest streaked with sunlight slanting down through the needles on the evergreen trees. "How am I feeling?" She worked to make the words come out light. "As if I've been run over by a loaded freight wagon. Other than that I am fine." She forced herself to look at him, saw his mouth curve up at one corner.

"You are better, I think. How about something to eat?"

Her stomach rumbled just then. Apparently she was feeling better. "All right. As long as it's nothing too heavy."

"Some porridge and a cup of hot chocolate? Bennie's mother is a very good cook."

She nodded, but her eyes slid away from his. Litchfield left the room, returning a few minutes later with a tray, which he set on the table beside the bed. Steam curled up from the bowl of porridge and the chocolate looked rich and dark.

"Come. Sit down in the chair and eat." He reached a hand in her direction but Kathryn drew away.

Lucien frowned. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She stared into his handsome face, thinking of his kiss, embarra.s.sed yet determined to know what else her memory might have buried. "You kissed me, didn't you? The night you brought me here from St. Bart's."

Color crept beneath the dark skin over his high cheekbones. "So, finally you remember."

"I remember asking you to kiss me, so I suppose it was my fault, not yours."

His lips drew into a harsh line of self-reproach. "Don't be ridiculous. It was scarcely your fault. You were drugged, certainly not in your right state of mind. I am to blame and I apologize. I didn't mean to take advantage. Somehow it just happened."

Kathryn worried her bottom lip, afraid to ask more. "I didn't... We didn't do anything else, did we?"

"Good G.o.d, no! You don't think that I-"

"No! That isn't what I meant. I just thought... I wasn't sure what I might have encouraged you to do."

Lucien glanced away. "I won't deny I feel an attraction to you, Kathryn. But surely you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

She sighed and sat down on the chair beside the bed, feeling better now, certain the marquess really was the gentleman she had believed. Recalling his usual iron control, she felt a trickle of satisfaction she had been able to tempt him. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm still not thinking very clearly."

He seemed satisfied with that, his smile slipping back into place. "I had your things brought here, clothes you wore while you were at the castle."

"Thank you."

"Now that you're feeling better, I'll be returning home. I'll send someone to cook for you and act as your lady's maid, someone you can trust. No one will find you here. You'll be safe until we can figure a way to remove you from your uncle's control."

She was free of St. Bart's and, at least for now, she was safe-thanks to the Marquess of Litchfield. So why was she disappointed? Because Lucien was leaving. Good heavens, she wanted him to stay! I won't deny I feel an attraction to you, Kathryn. And in truth she felt no small amount of attraction to him.

Perhaps she was a little crazy. The man was not for her-he was betrothed to someone else. And even if he weren't they were hardly suited. Lucien disapproved of everything she believed in, everything she worked for.

"I'm grateful, my lord, for all that you've done. I'll never be able to repay your kindness."

Litchfield smiled. "Seeing you safe is payment enough. You might want to thank the Duke of Carlyle, however, once this is over and done. It was his plan and his aid that helped to get you out of that place-at no small risk to himself."

"And no small risk to you, my lord," she said softly, knowing it was true, realizing for the first time how great the danger must have been. "You could have been arrested or perhaps even killed."

Litchfield smiled in that disconcerting way of his. "Well, I wasn't and you are safe." He glanced toward the tray of food on the bedside table. "And very nearly recovered. Which means, you had better eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

Kathryn merely nodded, picked up the spoon, and began to stir through the porridge.

"If there is nothing more you need, I shall leave you. Bennie is here. He'll be working outside. Should you require anything at all just let him know. I'll send a servant as soon as it can safely be arranged."

She poured chocolate from the pot on the tray into a simple china cup. "When will I see you again?" she asked from beneath her lashes. She glanced up. "I mean... it's quite remote and I shall no doubt be lonely. Perhaps you might visit me from time to time."

"My aunt will certainly be along as soon as she returns from London. And I shall make it a point to stop by every couple of days."

Relief poured through her. It was amazing how strong it was. She took a sip of chocolate, grateful for the distraction. "How long do you think it will take to settle matters with my uncle?"

Lucien sighed. "I'm afraid it could take quite a while. I'm sorry, but that is simply the way it is."

She only nodded. Whatever happened, she was free and this time she meant to stay that way. But the danger her two protectors had faced reminded her of the danger she still faced every day. If her uncle found her as he had before- Kathryn shivered to think of it.