Chapter 26
James Murry held Lady Edwina’s hair while she vomited into the bucket he’d requested for exactly this purpose. Neither of them had slept much last night, only managing to catch an hour or less of rest before another feverish fit swept through her.
She gasped for air and he gently rubbed her shoulder, a calming motion intended to offer comfort.
Tears filled her eyes and stained her pale cheeks.
The stomach cramps the vomiting caused were painful because her stomach had very little to work with.
She’d barely eaten anything while she’d been in his care, the nausea so bad she recoiled at the sight of the two meagre slices of buttered toast he’d suggested she try.
Tea seemed to be the only thing that soothed her a little.
“Please don’t go,” she muttered, her hand catching his when he started moving away from her.
Stunned by the over-familiar gesture, he froze, barely able to take his next breath. Her skin was so incredibly soft, cool to the touch, her hand so much smaller than his own. Delicate.
A warm sensation pierced his heart. Awareness settled deep in his chest. This felt good. More to the point, it felt right.
Worried about his response, he withdrew his hand from hers and instantly regretted the loss of contact.
He swallowed, retreated a step, taking the bucket with him and holding it between them, like some sort of shield. “I’d like to empty this and rinse it out.”
Her answering nod was so slight it was barely noticeable. She collapsed back onto her pillow, eyes closed, a groan of discomfort upon her lips.
James considered the sheets and blankets that had slid to her waist when she’d leaned over the bucket. A decent person would make sure they were properly arranged — pulled up over the soft curves of her…
He dropped his gaze, his fingers tightening around the bucket’s handle. There was nothing decent about him. In fact, if he didn’t end up in hell because of the people he’d killed, he’d surely do so for ogling an innocent lady’s attributes after she placed her trust in him.
Swinging away, he went to the door, pausing only briefly at the sound of her whispering his name — a plea for him to remain by her side.
Bad idea.
She was destined for better things than what he had to offer.
As soon as she’d recovered and the poison forced upon her by Grover was gone, he’d either return her to her brother or deliver her into a friend’s care, if that was what she preferred.
In the meantime, he’d keep his hands to himself.
He muttered a curse and descended the stairs to The Red Hen’s modest foyer. It was a small out-of-the-way inn, located near Tower Hill. James doubted Croft would think to look for him and Lady Edwina here.
Nevertheless, he meant to arrange for them to get out of Town as soon as they were able. The only real hindrance was Lady Edwina’s sickly state. Extended travel would be difficult for her to manage, which was why he intended to move her in short increments.
Their next stop would be Greenwich, at a cobbler’s shop. The owner, Mr. Nigel Fairborne, was an old acquaintance of his from before James entered into Croft’s employ. James and Lady Edwina would be safe there for a couple of nights.
Voices coming from the taproom informed him of other guests’ presences.
Cautious, he halted, and instantly realized he’d been wise to do so. The man speaking right now sounded like Pierson, one of Croft’s footmen. The words spoken next confirmed it must be he.
“I wonder if Croft has learned what caused it.”
James remained out of sight, his shoulder pressed to the wall beside the doorway.
A pause followed, and then, “I’m sure he’s looking into it.” Luthlow, the head groom. “We’ll probably hear something soon. T’would be nice to reunite with everyone under one roof, talk through the events an’ deal with our grief together.”
A frown creased James’s brow. Grief? What the hell was going on?
“Even if we’ve no new lodgings anytime soon, we’ll likely see the rest of the staff at Susie’s funeral.”
The scullery maid was dead? And what the devil did Pierson mean about new lodgings?
James was tempted to enter the room and confront the two men, but implicating them in his act of defiance would be unwise. Their loyalty would be to Croft and as such, James would be giving up precious time in which to move Lady Edwina.
So he stayed where he was and waited to see if something else would be revealed. Eventually, when neither man spoke, he started turning away.
And froze when Luthlow said, “I can’t imagine what the Crofts are going through. I mean, I’m sorry for the few personal effects I’ve lost, but they had an entire house full of things. All turned to ash.”
James’s heart sank like a block of led.
“At least they’re alive,” Pierson said. “I’m sure that’s more important to them than anything else.”
“Without doubt,” Luthlow concurred.
Footsteps sounded. Then came the voice of a serving girl. Cutlery scraping porcelain followed.
James turned from the doorway and made his way through a hallway that led to the back of the inn. Pulse racing, he pushed through the door at the end and stepped out into a stone paved courtyard. Each breath felt like a struggle, as though his lungs had forgotten how to work.
Croft House burned. Susie dead. The servants – his friends – displaced.
All while he’d been comfortably hiding out here.
Honestly, he deserved whatever came next — whatever punishment Croft intended for him.
Because rather than be there to help, he’d abandoned the people who’d always looked after him.
He’d turned his back on the man who’d saved him from himself.
He’d chosen a virtual stranger over him and his family.
Hell, he’d deliberately failed to follow through on the orders he had received.
Guilt sank its talons deep into his soul. Self-loathing caught him in its grasp.
He emptied the bucket and used the pump to rinse it, then sank to his haunches and tried to think. Lady Edwina depended upon him now. He’d made a promise to her and felt wrong about going back on his word. To abandon her would be…
A swift shake of his head shoved that thought aside.
James’s duty was first and foremost to Croft. He’d neglected his obligations toward him, for which he deserved to be flogged.
Had James been there, the fire might not have gotten out of control.
Susie might have lived.
There was a chance that his absence – the lack of that extra awareness – was what had caused the tragedy in the first place.
His hand closed tightly around the bucket handle. Tension settled within the span of his shoulders, tightening the muscles in his back.
By the time he returned to the room he’d rented, his mind was made up. Even though one look at Lady Edwina’s sickly features made it hard for him to follow through on his decision, he forced himself to say, “Something has happened.”
She flicked her eyes open and made him witness to her suffering. “What is it?”
He winced in response to her frail voice. “A fire broke out at Croft House. I have to return in order to help.”
“But… if Croft sees me, he’ll alert my brother.” She drew a ragged breath. “I cannot reunite with him in this condition.”
“Are you sure he wouldn’t be pleased to see you?” James set the bucket aside near the bed.
“That’s not what concerns me. It’s what he will surely know as soon as he lays eyes upon me.
” She extended her hand and waited for James to take it, as though requiring his strength to keep talking.
“There’s no hiding what was done — the fact that I was drugged.
For which he’ll blame my foolish decision to walk about London unchaperoned.
I cannot fault him for that any more than I can allow him to shutter me away from the world out of fear. As I’m sure he shall.”
“There’s no guarantee this is how he’ll respond.”
She struggled to swallow. “What would you do if you were in his position?”
James expelled a deep breath while doing his best not to think too much about the touch of her hand in his. She was right. Any man would feel compelled to protect a woman in his care by all means necessary. More so after she’d recently been taken advantage of and nearly ended up enslaved.
“I can help you get to an old acquaintance of mine,” James told her. “You’ll be safe with him until I’m able to come for you.”
She curled her fingers more tightly around his. “Please don’t leave me with a stranger.”
An uncomfortable knot materialized in his throat. Broken as she was, he hated having to do this. After all she’d endured – after placing her trust in him – he now planned to deliver her into someone else’s care. And walk away, perhaps never to return, depending on how things played out.
But what choice did he really have?
“Nigel Fairborne is a good man, my lady, and I…” How could he explain the conflict playing out inside him? “Croft is like family. I owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude, and rather than do what he asked of me, I trampled all over his trust for a woman I did not know.”
It was madness, truth be told. And yet while he tried to tell himself that he would have acted differently if he could go back and do it all over, he knew deep down he’d be lying. Somehow, Lady Edwina had won him over. Walking away from her would not be easy.
Instead of saying any of that, he asked, “What would you do if you learned right now that your brother or sister were in dire straits? That they needed you? Would you remain here with me, or go to them, no matter the cost?”
She inhaled deeply. “I’m in no position to help anyone at the moment, but I understand your meaning. Once I’m better, I intend to return to Faintree Hall directly so I can see Claire.”
“What of your wish to avoid your brother?”
“He always spends the entire Season in Town. Crossing paths with him will be unlikely.”
So she meant to continue avoiding him. Until when, James could only guess, since she’d made her fears clear.
Lady Edwina would not be forced into marriage or confined to her brother’s estate for the rest of her days.
That meant she’d have to find a way out from under his control, leaving only one option that James could think of: to marry the man of her choosing.
An odd sensation materialized in his gut on that thought. He withdrew his hand and turned away, adding distance. “We’ll have to be careful when we leave. There are Croft House servants staying here. In addition to which we ought to depart immediately after your next episode.”
“So I can make it to Mr. Fairborne’s house without incident.”
He met her exhausted gaze. “Yes.”
A small nod informed him she wouldn’t protest. Although she disliked his suggestion, she’d go along with it. Either because it made sense or because he was asking it of her, he wasn’t sure. And he didn’t for one second dare to admit that a small part of him wished it might be the latter.