Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ROWEN
The servants heaved his father from the floor and brought him to his chamber. He lay on his bed, a helpless creature making small piteous noises. He could not speak, only mewl, his lips twisting, no more the imperious commander. Rowen had never seen this man so helpless, so weak.
So human.
His eyes squinted at his son, at nothing at all, as the doctor bled him with leeches.
Had he been ill and their argument had exacerbated his state? Rowen only knew that his father suffered from gout now and again. He’d seemed perfectly himself since his return to Tidesfar.
Rowen had stayed away too long; he’d known better, but he resisted coming home to him. But that had allowed the bastard to ingratiate himself…
The doctor plucked the last leech from his father’s arm and brushed it with a cloth. “He has a fever. This tempest is most probably due to all the excitement he’s had of late. Your return, his birthday.”
“He has another party planned for tomorrow—”
“No parties of any kind. Only quiet and rest.” Doctor Clive removed his spectacles. “His pulse is still elevated, but I expect his heart to return to its normal rhythm very soon.”
Doctor Clive packed his instruments back into his leather valise. “Your father is the most stubborn man I have ever known. I have often told His Grace that he needs more sleep, but he refuses to follow my advice.”
“My father has always enjoyed the night hours.”
“Mmm.” He fastened his bag. “He shall certainly make up for years of that folly now.” His gaze returned to the Duke, but there was no retort to be heard. Only a glare, a struggling glare.
“Will his speech return, Doctor? The use of his limbs?”
“I have seen it happen, but it’s much too soon to tell. His Grace has always been a robust man. There is hope, but… it will take time.”
“My father’s will is strong.”
“Very much so.” The doctor grabbed his valise.
“You are leaving?”
“Forgive me, but I must attend to another patient. I was on my way to Stockton House when your servant found me on the road. Lady Stockton is giving birth to her first child this evening, and I must go quickly.”
“Of course,” Rowen murmured. Whilst the Stocktons would welcome new life into their house, putrid death was on its way to Tidesfar. “My best wishes to the family.”
“Most kind. I shall give further instructions for His Grace’s care to Morgan.” The doctor cast a glance at his father’s manservant.
“Very good. Thank you, Dr. Clive.”
Morgan led the old doctor out of the bedchamber.
Rowen stood alone with his father, whose face was swollen on one side, that eye shut, and the other glaring and glowering at him with the usual Oakley persistence. Slowly, the lid lowered, twitched, twitched some more, and finally shut.
“Will he live?” came a clear voice behind him.
He swivelled around. It was her. The girl. Tristan’s sister. The evening’s sacrifice.
The sight of her was a relief, as if a wash of cool water slaked over his hot skin. She was safe, unharmed. No, she had been harmed, hadn’t she?
His shoulders eased. “I do not know.”
She came up alongside him. “Are you close with your father?”
“No.”
He met her gaze. Something sensual rounded her lips, the long slope of her neck. She was pretty. Nay, beautiful. She certainly didn’t belong here.
He cleared his throat. “Tell me, when you came upon me in the woods, why did you open your legs for me. Why? Why would you do such a thing?”
“Why would a girl do such a thing? Perhaps I, too, wanted my entertainment just like your father, like all the men at your gathering this evening.”
“A bold and outrageous move for one such as you.”
“A vulnerable young girl that all men ache to use?”
He let out a heavy breath. “Well said.”
“Sir, I decided to use the one thing of value which I possess to my own advantage before they could.”
He stilled at the steadiness in her voice, at what she implied.
“My innocence was all my uncles had to bargain with for their financial salvation, but it was mine, and within my power to use, and thus, I took it away from them. I destroyed their only means of deliverance from their deep debts and their re-entering respectable society.”
He had no words to offer.
“I had overheard their plans and had never felt so vulnerable. And so very angry. I ran to the woods to breathe as I am oft to do, and there I came upon you.”
Dear God. When he’d first laid eyes on her, it was in that wood. The little girl who longed to be like the huntress Diana, like a fairy frolicking in the forest. And now, years later, he’d taken advantage of her body in that very spot.
An ache twisted in his chest. How had he not thought the girl might have been her?
She let out a soft laugh. “I have not seen very many men in my time, and I had a most…peculiar reaction to you.” She bit her lip. “That’s when it came to me. I could take away that which they wanted most. I could do that. With you.”
“If my father had discovered the truth tonight or once he married you, your uncles would have paid dearly for such a deceit. And you…ruin. Did you not consider the consequences to yourself? You would have been thrown out into the streets, made a whore—I cannot think of—”
Her hand touched his arm for an instant as if to steady him.
“The only thing of consequence to me was destroying their triumphs.” She moved toward the bed, toward his father.
“They wanted your father to marry me and give them access to my inheritance. If my pristine quim was my only worth, the one card they had left to play to save themselves, then I would take it away. No matter the consequences.”
“The things you say.”
“I speak the truth.”
“With blinding clarity.” His hand reached out and brushed the side of her face. So soft. So delicate, yet the firm jut of her chin told a different story. “You hate them that much that you would do harm to yourself even if it meant triumphing over them?”
“I despise them with all my being.”
What had they done to this girl?
Was he any better for what he’d done to her?
“And if in the woods instead of me, you had chanced upon a peasant boy or an old farmer or a violent thief? What then?”
She tilted her head, a curve tilting her lips. “What does it matter? As long as he had a cock between his legs.”
His breath cut. “I think that you are the bravest person I have ever known. Damn my eyes, I took you with no thought to who you might be or what might have driven a girl to such behaviour. I only thought of my own pleasure.”
“A girl is but a trifle for a man’s pleasures. Especially a man such as yourself.”
“It’s what men like me are taught to do.” His jaw tensed as he glanced at the wretched Duke. “I am more my father’s son than I believed.”
“Sir, you did not force yourself upon me. I made it clear that I wanted you to take me, and you did so. And…”
“And?”
“And I shall never forget it.”
The sudden gravity in her tone sent a heady vibration through his veins. “Nor shall I,” he whispered roughly. She eyed him. It was not a lie. He’d never been so truthful in all his life, especially with a woman.
“And yet, Lady Cassandra, I am despicable and beyond forgiveness.”
Rowen’s heart thudded in his chest. He had betrayed her brother and her, and now he would pay for it when he told her the whole truth.