Chapter 7 #2
He gave her a sad smile. “I don’t think anyone can live through what we’ve experienced and come out unscathed.”
“I can hug the children with no issues, but I haven’t been able to tolerate the touch of my sisters.”
“The children pose no threat to your safety, adults do.”
“My sisters would never hurt me,” she argued, her gaze still on their hands. He had finished tying the linen, and yet she did not pull away.
“Nor should a husband.”
Her breath caught and her gaze shot to his, right before she yanked her hand away.
“William did not hurt me.”
“Caillen, I was there.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted. “Why would you say such a horrid thing?" She wanted to run from the room, run from him, run from—the truth she had not told a soul.
“I know he hurt you in a manner no man should ever hurt a woman, let alone his wife.” He was staring at her with a conviction she didn’t like.
Her denial was swift and strong. “Enough! I will not let you disparage his name.” Or hers, she couldn’t stand for anyone to know her shame.
“Caillen, you can’t—” He reached for her, but she stepped away, where he could not reconnect with her, no matter how far he attempted to stretch.
“Your doctor should be here within the hour. I will have a maid bring you fresh linen and a new bowl of water. Then John, not Charlie, will assist you with clean clothing. Make sure you do not turn him away with a raise in pay. Good day, Astley.” She turned and walked out of his bedroom with her wet skirts swishing back and forth.
Her back ramrod stiff, but it was the lift of her chin that gave her a sense of strength she hadn’t felt when she’d arrived in London.
Perhaps it was caused by her ability to stand up to Simon in a manner she hadn’t stood up to anyone in the past year.
As if they were on the same footing they’d been on before her marriage.
Then she realized she’d let him hold her hand without having a complete meltdown. A small smile began to form on her lips.
She would survive.
Astley was going to be the death of her.
The children were taking a nap, and she longed to take one herself, but he was in there, getting ready to take a bath and he didn’t want any of the servants to help him. “Stubborn fool,” she muttered. He hadn’t walked in months.
“Stubborn fool,” Charlotte mimicked from atop her shoulder as she descended the staircase.
She scowled and turned toward the bird. “Shhhh.”
“Stubborn fool.”
“Charlotte.”
“Aaaack!”
“You’re as bad as Simon.”
In the past month she had hidden in his house, he’d tried to walk on several occasions according to the staff.
She’d combated that foolishness by having the doctor warn him, every time he came to call, that he would have to cut off Simon’s leg if he re-injured it.
There was some truth to the statement, the doctor hadn’t left it out of the realm of possibility.
A broken leg was not an injury to be taken lightly.
His shoulder was healed, his ribs no longer hurt, and there was hope for a full recovery since Simon’s injured leg had been a clean break, surprisingly.
Sébastien had told her how the guards had taken deathly ill immediately after they’d broken Simon’s leg, and that was probably why the ship’s doctor had been able to set it.
Every time she thought of what Simon and Sébastien had endured, it made her sick to her stomach.
She was lucky. She didn’t remember much about her attack or the highwaymen who killed her husband, but she was fine with that.
She had survived it, was damaged irrevocably by it, but she was getting better every day.
What she had achieved a few hours ago gave her hope. Her heart had nearly beaten a hole in her chest as a result of Simon holding her hand, but she hadn’t screamed, or struck out at him, or run in the opposite direction.
She wasn’t certain she hadn’t actually liked it.
She rubbed the side of her heated cheek as she thought of how pale her injured hand had looked with his long, olive-toned, masculine fingers cupped around the edges.
She would have expected to feel vulnerable and weak in that moment. Instead, she’d felt cherished.
When was the last time anyone had made her feel treasured?
William had professed his love for her on numerous occasions, but he had never revered her.
That just wasn’t something her husband had been capable of expressing.
After meeting his parents, she understood his failings even more.
But with Simon, it had always been different.
She had chalked it up to his skill with women.
After being with his family for nearly a year, however, she now knew better.
Every one of his siblings behaved in a similar manner.
Their gender had nothing to do with it. They flirted openly, laughed heartily, and cared deeply.
So why had she not been able to see those qualities in Simon?
She nearly laughed out loud when she recalled what he’d thought of her on their first meeting.
Oh, Simon was a rake, but he was a lovable one who chose consenting women as his partners, if The Whispers of the Ton was to be believed.
Robbi had been supplying her with old copies of the paper for the past month.
It took everything she had to feign indifference to the articles.
After her sister had left and the children had gone to bed, she had devoured every word written about the man who now occupied a room on the first floor.
That was how she learned Marabella DiSimone’s identity.
The ton hadn’t been able to get enough of Simon, or her when they were an item.
They had been notoriously en vogue. Others had made headlines, but no one seemed to catch the favor of the paper, or the people in the same manner.
When Simon left Town, Marabella DiSimone had disappeared from the scandal sheet.
Until recently. The past month she had been on the arm of a man whose name she remembered from her childhood.
A man who inherited a large portion of her family’s land from when her father died.
She wasn’t quite sure why her cousin or his father had never attempted to contact any of the Blair sisters throughout the years.
The snub seemed odd at best. They were family.
Distant as family got, but family just the same.
She stopped outside Astley’s current bedchamber, which used to be the drawing room, just in time to hear a curse from the other side.
Placing Charlotte on the stand to the right of the door, she put her ear up to the wooden surface.
She winced at the sound of a series of thumps and scuffles from the other side.
She knew what it was like to wake up and not be the same person you once were.
Knowing how strong and hale Simon had been before he’d been taken hostage, made his current condition untenable to him, and she found herself opening the door before she could think better of it.