Chapter 30
AFTERCARE
Brandon stood to the side, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. He was very reluctant, but at some point, he had to let Marigold into the doctor’s care. She was sitting still on that crate, her feet bare and her ruined shoes disregarded nearby.
“Can we trust him?” Brandon asked Duncan.
“He has been my family’s personal physician for quite a while. He is privy to some of our cause,” Duncan replied. “He is sympathetic and more importantly, very happy to take my money.”
Brandon turned a watchful eye as the doctor took care of her. It was always a relief to leave details like this to Duncan. He had even alerted the Runners to be ready to face any emergency, and it seemed that the police force took that warning to heart.
The building that was once Johnny’s lair was burned to the ground, but beyond that, the fire did not extend anywhere else.
“Thankfully, Your Grace,” the doctor came closer, “the damage is only superficial. Some minor blistering is not to be avoided, but nothing that will not heal with proper care.”
Brandon exhaled. He too had inspected her feet, but it was different to officially hear that despite this tremendous ordeal, Marigold was almost unscathed. The breath that he had been holding for what felt like years finally escaped.
“It would be better if she kept off her feet for a few days. To avoid scarring, please use this salve twice a day and change the bandages.”
“It will leave no permanent damage?”
“I assure you that if you follow the correct care, soon it will be as if this whole thing had never happened,” the doctor said and packed his bag.
That was exactly what Brandon wished. That they could move on and pretend this whole thing never happened. Never in his whole life would he want to feel such anguish again. When he saw her tied to that chair, when the flames were upon her…
“The Runners have the last of Johnny’s men in custody.” Owen joined him and Duncan.
“Did we get Johnny?” Brandon asked as his look darkened.
Now that his agony subsided and the danger was gone, Brandon felt a sudden urge to grab the gang leader and not let go till he was lifeless.
But he would refrain from doing so. The first reason was that one of the agreements they had when they entered the Dark Hand was that though violence was a necessary tool, they wouldn’t make unnecessary use of it.
The second reason that prompted him to hold his nerves was sitting right now, barefoot on a crate, brave, amazing, and utterly his.
“I was worried he would use the fire to escape and orchestrate his death,” Duncan said, always anticipating three moves ahead. “But even if he had such plans, he did so without taking Victor into account.”
“I mean, he’s mostly quiet, but I don’t understand how Johnny thought that he could outrun Victor,” Owen scoffed. “You should have seen it, Brandon. Johnny ran for his life then Victor dragged him back to the Runners.”
“I believe we can make him rat out others around the docks,” Duncan said without showing any emotion. “People like him usually give up information to save some of their hide.”
“Do not tell me you are going to let Johnny go?” Brandon growled.
Only the idea that a waste of a man would avoid the fate he deserved made Brandon’s skin crawl. He killed Greta out of pure anger, he tortured Marigold for years, and only God knew how many had suffered under his reign.
“I have every intention to exploit his fear and then teach him what it is to be at someone’s mercy,” Duncan said, his eyes darkening.
And as if calling upon the devil, a group of Runners appeared behind Duncan.
They had Johnny in chains and dragged him along to a carriage.
For one second, Brandon met Johnny’s eyes.
The once powerful man of these docks was bloodied and scorched, bruises were forming all over his face, and his hand was an open wound consumed by fire.
But what gave Brandon the satisfaction of his life was that look in his eyes.
It was only hours ago that Johnny looked at him, arrogant and sure that he could destroy his life.
But now the same man looked at Brandon in utter defeat and fear.
Brandon smirked as the Runners pushed him inside the carriage.
“I will continue keeping track of this mission,” Brandon said, his eyes still fixed on that carriage pulling away.
“I did not expect anything less,” Duncan said, turned his back, and left.
Owen placed one hand on his shoulder. Brandon looked at his friend. He didn’t have to say anything, but Owen knew that Brandon thanked him for having his back. Both men nodded in solidarity.
“Go home,” Owen said. “We have things handled here. Take care of your wife. Because the only thing better than having your wife playing the nurse on you,” Owen gave him a wicked smile, “is for you to play doctor with her.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Owen,” Brandon said and turned his back.
“See you soon, Voss!”
Brandon shook his head and made his way to Marigold. Before she could even protest, he lifted her into his arms, police and curious onlookers seeing the great Duke of Voss cradling his Duchess.
“Brandon, I can walk,” Marigold whispered.
“No.”
“I can assure you I still have the ability to walk, and I can prove it to you if you would just let me-”
“No.”
“My feet are fine.”
“They are not fine, and you are not walking,” Brandon said and leaned closer to her ear. “Now you will be a good girl and do as I say.”
Upon hearing that, her jaw dropped, and any objection died in her mouth. Brandon smirked at her, starting to agree that playing doctor with Marigold had its merits.
“You are shameless,” she hissed.
His response was to hold her tighter.
“You are squeezing me,” she said.
“I am not letting go of you.”
“I was not complaining,” she responded, raising her eyebrow.
* * *
Brandon had completely lost track of time for that day that seemed to stretch forever. When they reached Verdant House, the sun was setting. He had already sent messages, and the servants were already aware and had their instructions.
Mrs. Hodgins appeared at the entrance.
“Your Graces!” She had motherly concern on her face, focused especially on Marigold.
“You do not have to worry,” Marigold tried to calm the old woman.
“Have you prepared what I sent for?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. Hodgins nodded as she led them inside.
“Cool water, bandages, and take this salve to my room.” Brandon gave the staff the medicine the doctor had provided.
He could feel everyone’s eyes on them. It was not every day that they saw a Duke carrying his wife, but he could not care less what people thought of him. He only cared that Marigold was safe and healthy.
Brandon carried Marigold up the stairs and into his bedroom. He placed her gently at the edge of the bed and quickly started to take care of her. He brought a big basin of cool water and a soft cloth. He knelt before her and lifted her feet, placing them gently into the water.
“I know it’s cold,” he said, looking up at her face, “but just bear with it a little longer.”
“It’s not that bad. It actually feels good.”
He nodded, admiring her bravery. He then took another basin with warm water and started to slowly wipe the ash, soot, and dirt from her body. He started with her face, cleaning away, revealing her beauty.
“I need to get you out of these clothes. They’re ruined,” he said simply.
Marigold blushed a little, but even she couldn’t disagree.
Softly, Brandon pulled the fabric off her shoulders and his adept fingers undid the buttons of her dress.
Something was shifting between them, something that was swaying between desire and care.
Brandon realized that this would be a constant state around Marigold.
“Brandon, I can take off—”
“I am sure there are a lot of things you can do, Marigold,” Brandon said, his voice coming out a little breathy. “But for now, you’re going to let me do them for you.”
She nodded, biting her lip, and Brandon kept undressing her, his soul settling as he saw that she was not injured anywhere else.
He wiped most of the dirt off her body, slowly, his heart beating fast, his body burning to see her unveiled in front of him. But also focused on her care, holding back from pouncing on her like a wild beast.
“Does that hurt?” he asked as he finished cleaning her legs.
“I am fine,” Marigold responded.
But he could tell that she too was affected in a very different way that had nothing to do with care by his slow touch on her body. Her fingers were curling the bedding, and her breath was shallow.
Brandon took her hands and caressed them.
He wiped her long arm with a cloth until he reached her wrists.
There were burns from the ropes, and Brandon froze.
It was as if he was thrown into a cold lake of guilt and shame.
He made his wife think that he was discarding her.
He made her run away, and that put her in harm’s way.
“Brandon?”
“Tell me that you know,” Brandon demanded as he took care of her wounds. “Tell me that you know that I would never ever leave you.”
“Brandon…”
“Tell me that you will never leave me.”
Marigold leaned and placed one soft kiss on his forehead. He looked up at her. He knew that he had been through some pain in his life, but he didn’t know what he had done to deserve her.
“I love you, Brandon. How could I ever leave you?”
A sigh of relief left his lips, and he nodded.
“I have asked the staff to prepare a bath,” he said and brought her the silk robe to wrap her body.
He was ready to pick her up again when she held him by the wrist.
“You are hurt too, Your Grace.”
Brandon looked down at his body as if he had only realized that he was dirty and bloody.
“It’s not my blood,” he said.
She pulled him down on the bed more firmly, and it was her turn to help him out of his clothes. Her touch ignited him.
“You really enjoy playing the nurse,” he teased her.
“The problem is we are not playing. You keep getting hurt,” she scolded.
She then took a clean cloth into clean, warm water and took the filth off his skin. And with each touch, she healed parts of him that he thought would remain an open wound. She gave him life after his revenge. The best part of his life. He looked at her, mesmerized, as she was cleaning him.
He grew impatient and passionate. He didn’t allow her to finish. He cradled her in his arms, ignoring her little gasp, and made his way to the connected bathroom. The hot water had made the place steamy, as if they were almost entering a magical realm.
Without putting her down, he took off her robe and gently placed her inside the water with extra care for her feet.
“Is the water to your liking?” he asked.
Marigold made herself comfortable in the big tub and looked at him with those golden eyes.
“Come in with me,” she asked.
Brandon froze for a moment. He had been struggling with himself ever since they entered his room.
He was trying to be good and patient and care for her.
But as he dove into the honey of her look, he decided that he had been nice enough.
By the way Marigold looked upon him, she didn’t want nice anymore.
He dropped the undergarment he had left on and stepped into the tub. Marigold moved, and he settled against the curved back of the bathtub. He then snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest.
Marigold gasped and chuckled as she leaned against him.
Somehow this happy little noise made his heart leap.
Without a single word, he grabbed the bar of soap and worked it in his palms. A rich, fragrant lather filled his hands.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the skin softly.
His fingers weaved through her hair and set it aside, revealing her elegant back to him.
His hands moved, taking a pass down her spine to her waist. Everywhere he touched, her body shivered deliciously. More lather, and this time he started from her neck down to her arms and then the sweet swell of her breasts.
When the soft foam and his firm fingers went over their aching peaks, she arched back on his chest. Brandon didn’t waste the opportunity. His mouth found that sensitive spot on her neck and grazed his teeth over it.
Marigold gripped the edges of the bathtub, and Brandon smiled against her skin. His hands moved lower to the dip of her waist and the flesh of her thighs. As if on instinct or on pure need, Marigold let her knees fall open for him.
Brandon growled against her neck and licked her ear.
“There’s my good girl,” he whispered.
She responded with a deep moan that resonated off the walls of the bathroom. His hands reached down to gently clean her most intimate parts. He started tenderly, and yet Marigold ground against it.
“Is this something that you wish for, sweetheart?” he tortured her.
She didn’t answer but grabbed his arm to keep him where she needed him the most.
“Tch,” Brandon chastised playfully. “You will have to use your words, Marigold. I will ask again, and remember what happens when you don’t answer. What do you wish for?”
“Please,” Marigold begged. “Touch me, please.”
He kissed the skin on her neck to reward her then used both hands to open her more to him. Marigold gasped in surprise, but the sound was drowned into something else entirely when his fingers reached her core.
She was already wet, and it had nothing to do with the warm water around them. It was her slick, pulsating desire. He wanted to make her feel good, to dispel her torment and ordeal, so he entered her first with one finger.
“Brandon!” she almost catapulted out of the water.
“No, you’re staying here with me,” Brandon murmured in her ear. “And that will make you feel so good. Does this feel good?”
Marigold nodded furiously as his thumb circled her.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he warned and pinched her nipple.
“Yes, yes! It feels good.”
Her reward was to touch her more, lick her skin, tease her breasts, and relentlessly enter and circle her until she was a writhing mess in the bathtub.
“B… Brandon,” she muttered helplessly.
“There you are,” he whispered. “You can come now, Marigold. Let me feel you around my fingers.”
And she did. She let go, and her body tensed like a bow against him as sweet pressure rippled around his fingers. Brandon moaned in her ear, his need overwhelming him.
“I believe we are clean enough,” he growled.
Without letting her fully come down from the heights of pleasure, he got up, pulled her into his arms, and headed to the bed.
The night was only just falling, and he was determined to erase the tension of the nightmare they had both faced and replace it with far more pleasurable memories.