Chapter Ten #2
How had he guessed that in her heart of hearts, she wanted a strong man by her side and babes to love? Mayhap he wanted a family too. Though she could not imagine how they would manage it, if the two of them were at cross-purposes more often than being in agreement with one another.
She shook her head. Flaherty was putting ideas in her brain. Because of her overprotective brothers, she had never entertained thoughts of marriage—or a family of her own—before.
“We can marry tomorrow evening if ye’re up to it, lass.”
The dark and desperate look in his eyes had her wondering just what the man was thinking.
The memory of her response when his mouth met hers swept through her.
She’d actually moaned and encouraged him!
Shaking thoughts of kissing him free, she sniffed, then answered, “I will not marry you until I can stand beside you when we repeat our vows.”
Had she lost her mind and said that out loud? She covered her mouth with her hand.
His eyes sparkled and his grin widened. “’Tis fine with me, lass. Ye don’t need to look shocked. I’m certain between O’Malley, Garahan, the baroness, and meself, we can quell the talk in the village.”
A feeling of dread settled into her bones. “What talk?”
“Ye were in and out of consciousness and fought against anyone but meself trying to hold ye still while Dr. Higgins stitched the wound closed.”
Pippa had no idea what to say.
Flaherty inclined his head and continued, “Well then, if ye don’t mind that talk has already reached the village—possibly the inn—ye won’t mind what they’re saying.”
She had to concentrate to keep her voice steady when she asked, “What are they saying?”
He shrugged. “Mostly the fact that ye were obviously partial to me, as no one else could manage to quiet ye while the physician tended to ye. Then there’s the fact that ye did not seem to mind in the least that I’ve seen yer upper back unclothed.”
“I don’t remember you holding me. Did you say my back was…
” She could not say the word aloud… Unclothed?
Logically, it must have been more expedient to cut the top of her gown and her chemise off her to tend to her wound.
Why couldn’t she recall? Uneasy under his potent gaze, she grumbled, “People always assume the worst! I have nothing to hide. My reputation is spotless. Should they not be speaking about that fact that I was stabbed, trying to rescue my friend’s babe? ”
“That they should,” Flaherty genially agreed. “I’m not certain how the details of yer gown being cut from neck to waist made its way to the village. Mrs. Green and Mrs. Chauncey were insistent that they would see to whatever the physician needed to preserve your dignity and reputation.”
She struggled, but managed to get her elbow beneath her and lift herself up enough to meet his gaze. “Please tell me that you’re joking! Talk like that would be scandalous—we’re not married.”
“Aye, that is part of what’s being said about us. Though the rest no one really credits. After all, your injury was grievous, and I am an honorable man.”
“I am honorable, too.”
“Aye, lass, that ye are, with a brave and loving heart. Tell me, did ye speak to Millie? Are ye no longer worried about her reputation?”
Her heart sank. How could she forget about Millie and Roarke’s reputations? “I must have closed my eyes for a bit longer than I thought.” She could not believe she’d fallen asleep. “I haven’t seen Millie recently.”
Flaherty squatted down beside her cot and tapped the tip of his finger to the end of her nose. “That’s because yer lovely faery eyes have been closed for the last four hours.”
“Impossible.”
“Well now, ye can ask either Mrs. Green or Mrs. Chauncey. Both have taken turns sitting with ye.”
There was no use arguing. Pippa had obviously fallen asleep. “Forgive me for arguing with you, Flaherty.”
“Call me Dillon.”
“Of course…Dillon.”
“I enjoy arguing if it ends with yerself in me arms. How would ye feel about sitting up, propped in a chair?”
“I’d like that. I’m thirsty and my stomach is empty.”
“Excellent. We’d best let everyone know that ye’re awake and wanting yer cup of broth and calves’ foot jelly.”
Pippa grimaced, managing to swallow her irritation.
It warred with feelings of helplessness.
She was used to being the one in control and being depended upon by Millie—not relying on a man, especially a hardheaded Irishman with eyes that saw through her carefully crafted facade to her very soul. “Thank you, Flaherty.”
He swept his arms beneath her and carefully set her on the chair by the cot. Mindful of her injury, he wedged a quilt behind her and urged her to lean her uninjured side against it. “There ye are, lass. How does that feel?”
His attention and careful treatment of her was so unexpected that tears welled up and spilled over. Flaherty brushed them away and kissed her as if she were fragile.
“’Tis a good thing his lordship expects yer license to arrive midday tomorrow,” Garahan mumbled from the doorway. “Ye need to let the lass rest, else it’ll take twice a long for her to heal.”
Mrs. Green arrived with a small tray, and Garahan stepped aside so she could enter the room. “Should you be out of bed?” she asked.
“The lass is hungry,” Flaherty answered. “She’s ready for the next dose of yer herbal.”
“Well now, that is surprising but wonderful news. Would you help hold the cup for her, Flaherty?” the cook asked. “We want her to drink all of it.”
“That I can.” He locked gazes with Pippa and rasped, “Open yer pretty mouth, lass. Drink every drop.”
She didn’t bother to argue with him. He seemed to enjoy it too much.
The thought lingered along with a question: Did she truly want to marry the man for reasons other than wanting to escape her father’s plans for her to wed either one of his elderly contemporaries?
Searching her heart, she realized that her feelings for him went far deeper than she had realized.
Protecting Roarke from his kidnapper, and vowing to protect the babe with her life, had opened her eyes and forced her to see beyond her stubborn pride.
Yes, she wanted to marry Flaherty…but had more questions.
Did Flaherty truly have feelings for her?
He’d seemed to enjoy the kiss he initiated, but given the way females acted around the man, it would not have been his first kiss—though it was hers.
She sighed, accepting that she would have to wait until they were alone again to ask one last time if he was serious about marrying her.
Then, and only then, would she ask what she needed to know: Where they would live?
How many children did he want? Pippa hesitated, worried over the last and most important question in her mind: Would he agree to her unusual terms, or balk when she asked him?
Worry settled on her shoulders, draining her.
What other choice would she have if the rumors swirling around the village traveled to the Lake District, where she lived?
What would her father say? Would he immediately obtain a special license and marry her off to Lord Hinchman or Lord Ives?
There was no other choice for her. Because she and Millie had neglected to inform their fathers of Millie’s situation, they had fled without a chaperone, nor escort.
Her brothers were bound to find out what she had done, but it would take time to reach them.
When they received word, would they pull strings to rush home?
And whom would they side with, their father, or herself and Millie?
Faced with the same situation, she would not hesitate to thrust herself to the fore, in a bid to rescue Millie’s babe.
Supporting her friend and her unborn son had been Pippa’s mission from the moment the missive arrived with the news of Captain Trentchester’s death.
When Millie had confided the veiled threats from her brother-in-law, Pippa’s support switched to protection.
They had been friends far too long for her to simply ignore the situation.
She’d had to do all in her power to continue to protect and defend Millie.
Given the circumstances, what other choice did Pippa have?
She would have to agree to marry Flaherty, but only if he agreed to her terms. She intended to see to Millie and her babe’s protection permanently.
What better way to accomplish that than to have Flaherty promise to open his home and extend his protection to include Millie and Roarke?
If he agreed to that, Pippa would do whatever Flaherty asked.
Lifting her gaze to meet his, she hesitated until he said, “Ask whatever is weighing heavy on yer mind, lass.” He traced the tip of his finger across her forehead. “’Twill give ye wrinkles otherwise.”
She licked her lips and tried to ignore the way his eyes turned a deeper shade of blue as he stared at her mouth. He’d definitely enjoyed their kiss as much as she had. “If you can agree to my terms, we could marry tomorrow.”
“I’ll agree to whatever terms ye want, lass.”
“You will? Without knowing what they are?”
“Aye, lass.”
“Th…thank you, Flah—er…Dillon. I was uncertain, but hoping you would.” From what she knew of the man, she knew he would honor his word.
There was something about him that called to her on an elemental level.
It began when he’d ridden up next to their disabled carriage and offered his assistance.
The size of him, combined with his confident presence, had overwhelmed her, had her defenses going up.
His kisses had muddled her mind and stolen her breath.
But what would he think once she laid out the terms?
Could they build a life together based on that, or would he hold her accidentally shooting him over her head for the rest of their lives?