Illusion of Innocence: Regency Rebelles Series

Chapter 16

A wild cry of pain left Verity’s lips as the base of her spine met the unforgiving cobbles. Her bonnet met a similar fate somewhere behind her and her feet flew in the air in a scandalous flurry of skirts and petticoats.

But it was her husband”s name that seared her lungs as she watched him caught by the carriage wheel and hurled towards her like a slow-spinning top.

His head hit her flailing legs and then the stony pavement and his body lay as still as the cobbles beneath him.

‘Sin? Oh God, Sin—’

Without thought for her own hurt, Verity scrambled inelegantly to her knees and bent over her husband, her chest hurting so much she could scarcely breathe.

‘Sin, Please, God, you can’t be dead. Sin?’ She slid her hand gently around the back of his head and it came away sticky with blood. ‘Help!’ she screamed out.

‘Mevrouw, mevrouw, gaat het?’

Verity stared up at the sturdy gentleman bending over her and tried to blink away the tears blurring her vision.

‘I don”t speak Dutch. My husband—his head. Oh please tell me he”s not dead.’

Suddenly there were several voices clamoring above her, a flurry of words in the guttural language she had no hope of following.

A plump middle-aged woman came down on her knees beside Verity, clearly demanding to be allowed to examine Sin’s injuries.

But sitting now with his head on her lap, she was not about to let him go.

The woman laid her hand on Sin’s chest and then said something Verity thought might mean ‘he lives.’ For even she could now see the slight rise and fall of his chest.

‘Oh thank you, God,’ she whispered. ‘Please,’ she said looking up. ‘Can you get help? A doctor? Something?’

‘I”m a doctor, madam,’ declared a younger man, now crouching down beside them.

The words, in clipped, accented English, were as welcome as a newborn’s first cry.

‘What happened?’ he demanded.

‘I almost fell onto the roadway in front of that carriage,’ she said, pointing to the vehicle which was stopped at the edge of the paving, ‘and my husband tried to save me, only to get caught by the wheel himself and thrown. His head is bleeding. And he’s—so still.’

The next hour became a blur in Verity”s mind. The young doctor took charge and the wealthy merchant couple, who it turned out owned the carriage, hovered and insisted they be allowed to transport Sinclair back to the ship. The doctor had issued a flurry of commands in Dutch to the crowd gathered around and while he examined Sinclair and ascertained he did not appear to have any broken bones, someone produced a stretcher contraption and some ropes.

Once they reached the ship and Crabby rowed ashore to get them, they were able to lift Sin aboard using the ropes around the stretcher. Doctor Peeters accompanied them, taking it upon himself to explain the situation to a darkly scowling Captain Nik, whose livid side glances told her he considered this all to be her fault.

One look at his black, slashing brows and grim, tight mouth and Verity dropped her head and hurried after the crewmen carrying Sin to the cabin.

The shock of seeing her husband so suddenly and cruelly felled had made her forget she’d landed on the cobbles with considerable force herself, but that fact was beginning to make itself felt with some degree of severity.

The men waited for her to hobble ahead of them and open the door into the cabin and then they laid Sin, stretcher and all, on the lower bunk bed. The Captain and the doctor followed them in.

‘Will that be all, Cap’n, sir?’ one of the men asked, and Nik dismissed them with a terse nod of thanks.

‘I will do whatever else is needed.’

The doctor shot him a doubtful glance and the captain looked down his impressive princely nose at the young man.

‘Mr. Wolfenden is my partner and best friend. Tell me what you need,’ he said, with the regal dignity of a man born to royalty.

Eyebrows dancing a little, the doctor bowed, and said, ‘Then please help me release the bindings and ease him gently onto the bed.’

The ship”s doctor entered the cabin as Verity was covering the pillow with one of her older lawn petticoats. A dark fiery Irishman by the name of O’Leary, he was known simply as Docco.

‘Someone said Mr. Sin”s been hurt.’

‘Docco,’ Captain Nik said, and Verity noted relief in his voice. ‘This is Dokteur Peeters who happened to be nearby when Sin tangled with a carriage and bashed his head on the cobbles.’

‘Well, there be a good hard head on the man,’ Docco said heartily.

Clearly used to taking charge, he stepped up to the bed, subtly elbowing Dokteur Peeters aside.

‘So, you”re a doctor?’ Docco asked, while gently turning Sin’s head to check the damage.

‘I am. Practicing this last five years here in Amsterdam.’

‘And you”ve dealt with head wounds before?’

‘I have,’ the Dutchman said with a wry twist of his mouth. ‘My countrymen are a hot blooded and stubborn lot in general.’

While he talked and listened, Docco was probing gently at Sin”s skull with his short blunt fingers.

‘I cannot feel any dent in his skull. Would you agree, dokteur?’

The younger man looked a little startled to be consulted so readily.

‘Yes. I found only the cut and a good contusion forming.’

‘No other injuries?’

‘We were about to confirm that, but I don”t believe he has broken anything.’

‘Then let”s get him out of these fancy togs he’s wearing. Captain, I believe Dokteur Peeters and I can handle the situation.’

‘I”m not leaving this room, Docco. I won”t interfere but I am staying.’

The words were accompanied by a black stare which earned an eyeroll from the Irishman, who then turned his attention to Verity.

‘Perhaps my lady, you should wait outside—’

‘He’s my husband and I’m not going anywhere either, Docco,’ she said, giving him the same level stare he”d received from Captain Nik.

She”d scarcely spoken two words to the ruggedly handsome Irishman since coming aboard, but she couldn”t let that matter now. She would not be sent from Sinclair”s side.

He was her husband. What if he never—?

She leaned heavily against the wall, not sure how much longer she could remain standing, and twisted her hands in the stuff of her skirts to stop them from trembling. Likely she was suffering the aftershock now and would benefit from a cup of chamomile tea, but that would have to wait.

The two doctors had undressed Sin down to his smalls, the broad musculature of his chest as defined as if created by a sculptor”s chisel. Not a drop of sweat glistened. Not a muscle flickered in lustful animation, but an ugly contusion marred the perfect conformation of his right shoulder. He lay unnaturally still, only the slight rise and fall of his chest showing he lived.

So not Sinner.

Her Sinner was vital, alive, vigorous.

The doctors conferred over the wound on his head, decided against stitching because of the swelling, then roughly cleaned and bandaged the wound. They looked at the bruise on his shoulder and rubbed some rancid-smelling grease on it that Docco produced.

Promising to look in later, Docco and the young Dutchman left, deep in the discussion of a doctor’s life at sea.

As soon as they went, Verity moved to sit by her husband, acutely aware Captain Nik sat stoically on the other chair in the room, watching her from beneath beetled brows and with arms folded uncompromisingly across his chest.

‘This is your fault, Lady Verity.’

The words were harshly spoken and coldly accusing.

Verity pulled the blanket over Sinclair”s chest and came once again to her feet. Agony radiated down her leg from her hip and moving was excruciatingly painful. Nevertheless, ignoring the seething Captain, she made it across the room and opened the door.

To her immediate relief Hawkeye hovered beyond as if waiting for her orders.

‘Is Mr. Sin gonna be a’right, m’lady?’

‘I hope so, Hawkeye. Can you ask Mr Jay if he can spare me a moment please?’

‘Aye-aye, m’lady,’ the lad sang, clearly delighted to be of some use.

Returning to the bed, Verity began unwinding the unwieldy bandaging about Sin’s head.

‘What the devil are you doing?’ Captain Nik demanded, suddenly looming over her.

‘I’m going to clean the wound properly. They did nothing but apply a little dubious looking salve. The hair needs to be cut away and the wound properly cleaned. If he survives the damage to his brain, I”ll not have him die of an infection. Please open my trunk.’

The Captain stared at her, his face thunderous and startled all at once, then with an almost audible grinding of his jaw, he bent to lift the lid of her trunk as she’d asked.

‘Now can you bring me the small leather case from the top tray, please?’

Looking totally appalled at being asked to open a lady”s personal belongings, he eventually lowered his gaze from her determined one, and handed her the case she”d asked for.

Verity now had the bandage unwound and rolled up on the pillow. Delving into the case, she brought out a pair of small sharp scissors then laid the case aside.

‘Is there any alcohol handy?’ she asked, stripping off her pelisse and draping it over the back of the chair.

Without a word he crossed to the cupboard in the bulkhead and returned with a bottle of brandy.

‘The best brandy money can buy, my lady. Will that do?’

Looking up at the glowering captain, Verity raised one eyebrow in critical consideration.

‘It is for my husband, Captain, so only the best will do.’

Taking it from him, she unstoppered it, poured a little into the palm of her hand then set the bottle aside. First she doused the blades of the scissors in the liquor, then bathed her hands in the expensive liquid.

Ignoring the Captain”s flared nostrils and barely restrained ire, she set to work carefully snipping the hair away at a distance of an inch all around the wound.

A strange little cough brought Verity”s attention back to the captain, who was staring at her with consternation. Definitely a softening of his harsh expression.

‘Your elbow is bleeding.’

Verity glanced down at it, then at the other.

‘I landed on them, so not surprising I guess.’

‘You fell also? Are you hurt elsewhere?’

‘My derriere will most likely have a monstrous bruise but I shall be fine, Captain. It is my husband who is not.’

His chest rose and fell with some obvious internal strife then he said no more. She was about halfway through cutting Sin”s hair when Mr Jay entered closely followed by both Saju and Raji.

Saju, in pristine white robe and turban, dived towards his master.

‘What are you doing?’ he barked with more animation than Verity had ever seen from him.

Thinking he would try to snatch the scissors from her hand, she waved them away from him. ‘I am cutting the hair away from the wound so he won”t get an infection.’

‘But—it will be a mess. It will look like an amateur tried to cut his hair.’

‘Or—he—could—die,’ Verity hissed at the valet, and he stepped back abruptly.

Blinking a couple of times down at Sinclair, he then looked back at Verity.

‘He could die?’

The distress in his black eyes was real and if she”d had time, she”d have felt sorry for him.

But in this moment, he was not important.

Sin was.

‘It will grow back,’ she pointed out. ‘We had an accident outside the Rijksmuseum. Mr. Sinclair fell and hit his head on the cobbles. He is unconscious. But even if he awakes from that, infection could set in and still kill him if the wound is not properly cleaned. And then—there is the bruising, possibly inside the skull, which could be causing the coma. Saju, could you bring me some of Mr. Sin”s clean linen neck cloths? Preferably unstarched.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ he said, a little doubtfully, clearly wondering what she was about and only moving a step. His reluctance to leave his master was palpable.

‘Mr Jay can you heat some vinegar to hot enough to put your hands in and bring it to me? Just enough to soak the neck cloth.’

‘O’ course, m’lady. I’ll be right back.’

With a pointed look towards the valet, he left on his mission and Saju more slowly followed.

Once the hair was clipped away from around the wound, Verity bathed it liberally with a small piece of clean cloth dipped in the brandy. That Sin was unconscious was a blessing in this moment. He probably would have yelled with the pain if he”d been sensible. Covering the wound with a dressing, she wrapped the vinegar soaked neck cloth about the back of his head and with Saju”s assistance, tied the whole unwieldy thing in place with another neck cloth.

‘Now,’ Captain Nik said from where he’d sat watching every move they made, ‘Saju shall tend to your hurts, Lady Verity.’

Saju’s eyes went wide.

‘You are hurt, my lady?’

Lord, she felt weird. Verity slumped back in the chair and closed her eyes. At least she”d done everything she could for Sin.

‘Just—my elbows, Saju. Bit bloody. Need cleaning with some of that brandy, and bandaging. Then maybe a cup of chamomile tea would calm my nerves. My stomach still feels as if a band of goblins are dancing a jig in there.’

‘Chamomile tea, my lady? I doubt—’

Verity managed to wave him to silence.

‘If the captain could manage to look into my trunk once again, there is a cloth-wrapped package tied with string—’

‘This?’ Captain Nik asked, holding the package out to her.

‘Could you—open it—Captain? I don”t—feel so good—’

In fact she was like to land face first on his boots.

‘Have you hit your head also?’ he demanded, suddenly looming over her.

‘No—I landed on my tailbone. Need to get some—marshmallow ointment on it or I”ll not be able to—to walk tomorrow.’

And while the captain continued to hold his ground in the face of that statement poor Saju stepped abruptly back from her at the possibility he might be required to apply said ointment to any part of her anatomy.

‘I”ll not—’ he began in some deep agitation.

‘No, Saju,’ Verity managed to assure him. ‘I can do it if the captain can find the ointment for me. Small jars. In a box in the bottom left corner, I think. And Saju, can you cut my sleeves above the elbow and clean the wounds with brandy, please? Then—apply a honey dressing—to each.’

Verity laid her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. She had to stay conscious long enough to apply the salve otherwise she’d be useless to Sin when he woke.

For she was determined he was going to return to her.

That moment—outside the museum—had been—magical. If she’d ever dreamed of having a husband, that man, the one who”d held her and danced her across the cobbles, his eyes silvery with laughter, was the one she might have conjured in her imagination.

That man she could imagine falling in love with her, not just in lust.

That man she wanted to find again.

That man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

‘M’lady.’ Mr Jay”s voice parted the fog that had settled over her. ‘Here”s yer tea. Chamomile as’ll settle yer. Yer needs ter wake up though, ter drink it.’

Her eyelids felt so heavy, but she forced them open.

‘You made me chamomile tea, Mr Jay?’

‘I did, my lady. T’is what yer asked fer. Careful now. Don” wan’ ter be spillin’ it.’

She sat up a little straighter and realized she clutched something in her hand. The tiny jar of marshmallow salve. The captain must have found it. Looking across to where he sat as if planted and growing roots there, she tried to smile her thanks.

Since his expression didn”t change and his blank gaze remained fixed on Sin lying so still, she figured she”d failed and with no further energy to try again, turned her attention to the tea.

When she”d managed to drink it all down, she was grateful to note the fog had cleared from her head somewhat, but dear God, she was so tired.

‘Do the bandages on your elbows feel secure, my lady?’

Saju had apparently been waiting behind her all this time.

‘Oh,’ she said, surprised to realize a neatly tied bandage adorned each of her elbows. ‘Thank you, Saju. They feel fine. Now I have one more commission for you. And I promise to make you another curry—just—not today.’

Saju suddenly stood in front of her and bent double in an elaborate bow.

‘No curry needed, my lady. Mr Sin,’ Saju’s eyes flittered sideways to where her husband lay like a corpse on the bunk, ‘asked me to help you—only this morning. I am honored to serve Mr Sin’s lady.’

Weak tears dribbled over her eyelids, and she dashed them away.

‘Thank you, Saju. It”s just—once I”ve applied the salve to my tailbone—and to Mr. Sinclair’s shoulder—I”d like to—I think I need to—lie down beside my husband and rest for a bit and I would be much more comfortable if you could help me remove my corset. Just need to—unlace the gown and then the corset and pull it out—and then—retie the gown—loosely.’

Raji, who”d been hovering in the shadows against the wall, suddenly stepped forward.

‘I will take the tea tray back to the galley,’ he said, and quickly disappeared out the door.

‘Captain?’

Saju clearly expected the captain to follow his brother. Truth to tell, so did Verity.

‘I am not leaving this cabin until Sinner opens his damned eyes and tells me to.’

But he did swivel in his chair so his back was to them. Resting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head to his hands and gave the appearance of a man lost in his own all-consuming thoughts.

Swiftly Saju did what was needed and Verity breathed easier once the restricting corset was removed from her body.

‘And now—I need to apply this salve and that”s hardly proper with you two in the room,’ she said, hoping Saju would take the hint and drag the captain out the door, if necessary.

Since the captain was a good eight to ten inches taller than the valet, she knew it was likely not possible.

Nor had she counted on Saju suddenly standing on his dignity.

‘Like the captain, I will not leave my master. But I will turn my back, my lady.’

Both men sat in stoic silence while Verity wrestled her gown and petticoats up to her waist and sat gingerly on the edge of the bunk. If her husband opened his eyes now he would likely not complain about the view, though she”d be beyond mortified.

And yet if a little mortification was what it cost, she”d pay gladly, if only Sinner would come back to her.

With the salve applied and her modesty restored, Verity stood and placed the tiny jar on the table.

‘Thank you, gentlemen, your consideration is appreciated. I believe I will lie down beside my husband and rest now. I am glad you are watching over him. Please wake me if anything—anything at all—changes.’

‘I will, my lady,’ Saju promised solemnly.

The captain merely favored her with a long considering look.

Darkness.

He”d never known dark to be so black.

Restricting.

Where had the daylight gone?

He”d been dancing with his wife. Had her in his arms, twirling across the cobbles in front of the museum and now he couldn”t—even move—his limbs.

Something was holding him down.

Where was his wife?

Verity.Her name resounded inside his head. Something was wrong.

He couldn”t reach her.

Couldn”t see her. Hear her. Touch her.

‘Verity,’ he tried again, and struggled against whatever was holding him down. His eyes popped open to find Nik hovering over him. But he still couldn”t move.

‘Sinner? Thank the gods you are returned.’

‘Where have I been?’

‘Out to it.’

Then his friend’s glance slid to the side of him.

‘Lady Verity, wake up. Your husband is back.’

The weight holding him down shifted and his wife”s beautiful face, flushed with sleep and blinking in alarm, lifted off the pillow beside his head.

He tried to move his own head to get a better view of this phenomenon, his wife”s head on the pillow beside his, her arm lying protectively across his torso and one leg lying across both of his.

But something was weighing his head down too. Or at least restricting his ability to move it.

‘Why can”t I move?’

Christ. Even his voice didn”t want to work.

‘Oh Sin. Sinclair. You”re awake? Thank goodness. Oh dear God, you frightened me.’

Then she sat up, removing herself from the bed altogether. She swayed a little and Nik was forced to steady her.

‘Slowly, my Lady,’ he commanded softly, grabbing a chair and shoving it behind her before she could topple to the floor. She sank on to it with a full out groan that sounded as if she was in pain.

Sin tried to sit up, for now he could move his arms and legs, but pain stabbed through his shoulder—and his head.

‘God damn,’ he muttered through clenched teeth, ‘what”s wrong with me? And with you, Very?’

‘You don”t remember?’ she asked, eyes wide with worry. ‘How we were dancing in front of the museum?’

‘Yeah, I do,’ he murmured slowly, closing his eyes, as much to block out the shock and unbelief etched on Nik”s face, as to try to access the memory.

So, it hadn”t been a dream? He focused on the image from the dream, the one where he’d held Verity in his arms and spun her around as if they waltzed in a candle-lit ballroom.

Her eyes had been sparkling up at him and she’d been laughing, a pure happy sound that had stolen all the darkness from his soul.

And then that darkness came crashing back and he remembered no more.

‘It seems to be the last thing I remember. And—my shoulder hurts. My head hurts, and what the devil are you doing in here, Nik, when I”m sleeping with my wife?’

He was trying to shout with outrage, but his voice was operating more at the level of a squeak.

‘And I’m here too, Mr Sin,’ Saju said, peering around Nik”s large frame. ‘We could not leave until you regained consciousness. And Lady Verity needed to sleep a little for the shock was making her exhausted. She needed to sleep so we sat and kept watch.’

‘I was—unconscious?’

‘Sin, you saved me from the carriage, but you couldn”t save yourself. Don”t you remember?’

He stared at his wife and tried to drag up the images to match her words. Nothing beyond the startling image of him, cynical Sinner Wolfenden, cavorting with a freedom and levity he”d never allowed himself to express before.

He shook his head.

‘We were dancing because I was so happy we”d found the doll”s house in the museum. And then—and then I stumbled and fell towards the roadway and an oncoming carriage. You managed to jerk me back, but you couldn”t save yourself. Your shoulder caught the wheel, and it spun you back onto the cobbles. Your head actually hit my boot before jarring onto the stones, for which I am devoutly thankful. For if it had not—oh Sin, I”m—so grateful—I didn”t lose you.’

Her small delicate hands closed around his large one and gripped it with a fierce strength.

Gazing into eyes filled with tears and sparkling like faceted aquamarine diamonds, Sin felt a great welling of emotion within him, and some of it—at least three words of it—he wanted to share with his wife.

I love you. He”d never said those three words to a woman and when he finally did it was not going to be with Nik and Saju peering over her shoulder.

‘My head feels like—I”m wearing one of Saju’s turbans.’

Her tears turned into a wobbly smile.

‘There was a cut which I cleaned and dressed. It was too swollen to stitch. Then—I soaked a neck cloth in warmed vinegar—to make a compress to bring down the swelling. And that—is all held in place by another neck cloth. It is a bit like Saju”s turban, though not nearly as neat.’

‘Ah.’ He finally freed his other hand from the blankets and touched the wrappings making his head feel like a pumpkin on the pillow.

‘Do they need to continue standing there and watching me now I”m awake?’

It seemed his two most trusted companions might have feared for his life.

Her lips took on a funny little pursed prune shape and he realized she was trying not to laugh.

‘Captain Nik refused to leave this cabin until you opened your dammed eyes and told him to. And Saju vowed to do the same. Now you have your damned eyes open so—the rest is up to you.’

Goddammit, thinking was a bit like wading through bilge, but then he finally understood what she was telling him and let his gaze rest on his two Indian friends, one a prince and one his valet. No more loyal friends could a man have.

‘Thank you both for your concern. As you can see I have my damned eyes open and have no intention of kicking off this mortal coil any time in the foreseeable future. But since I would like a private word with my wife, would you both kindly leave the cabin?’

‘Just for half an hour,’ Verity said, turning suddenly and reaching for a bundle of cloth on the table. Swiftly unrolling it to reveal several small paper envelopes, she chose one and handed it to Saju. ‘Would you mind asking Mr. Jay to make a pot of this tea for Mr. Sin? Please tell him only to use one teaspoon of the herb in the pot. If he could bring it in half an hour, I”d be most grateful.’

‘One hour,’ Sin growled.

God damn, he wanted her to himself. They needed to talk, something they”d done precious little of—at any stage of their acquaintance. What if he’d died before he could truly set right all that was amiss between them?

‘Compromise,’ Verity grinned at Saju. ‘Tell Mr. Jay three quarters of an hour.’

To Sin’s everlasting surprise an almost-smile tipped the corners of the valet’s mouth as he bowed and took the envelope of tea from Verity.

Sin watched Saju leave with a small sigh of satisfaction, then brought his attention back to Nik, who stood glowering down at him from beneath black, scowling brows.

Saju was used to following orders. Nik was not.

The captain laid both arms along the boxing of the top bunk and peered down at Sin, his eyes shining like polished obsidian.

‘I may not be as easily assuaged. When I looked upon your—stillness—when they brought you back to the ship, I thought you were dead. In that moment I saw my world without you in it and it was a bleak place, Sinner. You are more brother to me than my blood brothers. You are my partner with the same dreams as I for the future of the Princess Line. It all suddenly meant nothing unless you were here—giving the whole endeavor a purpose. I need some assurance you are going to be all right. That you”re not being your usual staunch and obstinate self, only to fall back into that black abyss when I turn my back.’

Sin stared up into the dark eyes of the man who”d been his closest companion since university. In some ways they couldn”t be more different. Nik was half English and half Indian of princely blood. He”d been in love with his wife and widowed, his heart forever broken—and he would one day become the Earl of Ainslee.

Whereas, Sin was all English, the second son of a second son, with the only prospects those he created for himself, and he’d never understood about love.

Until now.

And until this moment he”d have said he didn”t even own a heart.

His hand crept up to where his chest ached, right about that area it was said the heart resided.

And then he remembered.

Verity stumbling towards the roadway with all the wild momentum of their dance. The approaching carriage that threatened to steal her from him in the moment he”d discovered this joy with her. The sensation of his heart bursting in his chest as he grabbed at her clothing and threw her back towards the pavement.

The realization he couldn”t regain his own balance and therefore she still might be taken from him. Or more accurately, he from her.

But they had been given a reprieve, given the chance to recognize and understand what they”d been granted.

The chance to see past the unsustainable flash-fire of lust that had catapulted them into this marriage before they”d had a chance to discover the enduring power of love that would bind them for eternity.

He”d felt it in that moment in time when he thought he might lose everything, even life. He felt it now when he looked on his wife and he believed he”d seen it in her eyes when she realized he”d returned to consciousness.

Returned to her.

Love even looked out of the black fathomless eyes of Lord Anik Woodburn and Sin could finally acknowledge, in his heart at least, it was love he felt for this man also. It was the kind of deep brotherly love neither had ever articulated, but it was rock solid, absolute. He raised his hand and Nik grasped it in a tight awkward grip.

‘I”m not going anywhere, Nik,’ Sin assured him. ‘I know you can”t run this business without me.’ Nik”s eyes darkened perceptibly. ‘But I”ve also discovered a whole—boat load—of other reasons why I need to be right here—where I am—and I”d like the opportunity to explain them to my wife.’

The black eyes softened, and little crinkles appeared at the corners.

They both knew what Sin had admitted without actually saying the words.

Nik straightened away from the bunks, favoring Sin with one of his rare, genuine smiles, bowed to Lady Verity and let himself out of the cabin without another word.

‘Now,’ Sin said softly, letting his gaze devour the disheveled faerie goddess that was his wife, still seated on the chair Nik had shoved behind her when she’d wavered, ‘I”d like to go back to where you were so trustingly beside me on this bed. I know that was likely because I was as capable of ravishing you as a dead man. Truth to tell, the same still applies. Please, come lay your head beside mine and let us talk.’

To his delight she granted his request without a moment”s consideration—although her eyes did widen a little when he lifted the blanket so she could slide in against him. He wasn”t completely naked. He seemed to be still wearing his smalls.

And then she was there, skirts tucked demurely about her legs and her head resting on the pillow right alongside his.

‘Oh Sinner,’ she immediately sighed, those sea-witch eyes closed as if she suffered pain. Then they flew wide, and she suddenly cupped his face in both her hands. ‘I never want to—see, feel, know—anything like that ever again. Time slowed and I had this crazy thought I could reach you, save you as you had me, before you were hit by the carriage. I wanted—needed—to be moving forward and all the time I was falling backwards. And then you hit the wheel and began flying towards me, but I was still unable to reach you, stop your head cracking open on the cobbles. At least my boot softened the impact, or this story might have had a different ending. I—saw—a lot of things very clearly in those few terrifying seconds that felt like hours at the time. The most important being I want this to be a real marriage. I know that you—took me in anger—was my fault and my reaction was—probably typical of a—virgin. I want us to start again.’

Sin couldn”t help himself. He had to kiss her. His head wouldn”t move but his hands could. Reaching for her face, he drew her towards him and wanted to shout with joy when she didn”t resist him.

She tasted of springtime and new beginnings and his body stirred.

Damn it, his head felt like it had been split open with an axe and yet clearly all the rest of him was in fine working order. Although he seriously doubted, he”d be able to follow through, even if he could lift his pumpkin-head off the pillow.

‘Your reaction was exactly what I would have expected if I’d had any control over my senses, your ultimatum exactly what I deserved.’ He cupped her face in his hands, noting the contrast of his weathered tan skin against the soft rosy ivory glow of her cheeks. ‘I love you, Verity Wolfenden.’

Tears filled her beautiful ocean-green eyes and rolled silently down her cheeks. It wasn”t the reaction he”d expected, but when had this woman ever done one damned thing he expected?

Then she blinked the tears away and he saw the diamond sparkles of her happiness.

‘You love me?’ she asked, as if such a possibility had been too far-fetched to entertain.

As perhaps it had been, he”d have to admit.

‘I do. Probably since that first day I saw you arranging the flowers for Carly and Jackson’s wedding. But, in my defense, I”ve never been in love before, had no notion how complex one”s feelings might be. I understood the lust part, loud and clear. Something about you had me tied in such knots every time I saw you. So, I focused on what I understood. I wanted you—and couldn”t seem to stop myself from pursuing you. But then—you muddied the waters with that statement about ‘if I was to be your husband’ and my cynicism took over. I doubted you and your motivations and for that I sincerely beg your forgiveness.’

She kissed him, a soft lingering caress of lips against lips, then pulled back and smiled.

‘You have my forgiveness, Sinner,’ she said softly, then closed her eyes and snuggled her head against his shoulder.

But—do you—love me, Verity Wolfenden?

Sin had never felt so discombobulated in his life. So needy.

When had he started needing love?

Specifically, his wife”s love.

What if she didn”t love him?

The answer slipped through the cracks of his consciousness with the stealth of the mist rising off the lake at Haddon Hall.

Love just is.Whether she loves you or not has no bearing on the fact you love her.

So be it.

His eyelids drifted closed and savoring the trust of her small hand against his chest, he slept.