Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (44 page)

“With all the rain yesserdy, I’m full to the brim with travelers,” the man said. “I’m sorry I can’t be gettin’ ye the bigger room at the other end of the hall. There’s a family of eight in that ’un.”

He was thankful they were at the other end of the hall too, because right now he needed sleep. He set Elise on the bed and asked for a tray. “May I get breakfast and hot water for washing? Then afterward five hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Aye, I’ll have the maid bring a ewer of hot water, and the wife fetch a tray straight away.” The innkeep stoked the fire in the little hearth. It roared to life when the coals caught, slowly warming the room.

“Soap too, please,” Michael added.

“Aye, m’lord. Soap, hot water, a tray and five hours sleep. Anythin’ else? Will the missus be needing a lady to help her?”

“No, I’ll help her. That will be all. Thank you.”

Thirty minutes later, clean and with a full belly, Michael sat in the chair next to the bed and propped his bare feet on the covers, thankful they were finally dry. Once he closed his eyes, it wasn’t long before he was sound asleep.

He woke several hours later to Elise’s weeping and struggling to breathe. In an instant, he scooped her up and rocked with her while she silently sobbed into his shoulder. It took a while before she relaxed. Throughout, she was never conscious, her eyes were closed and she didn’t respond to his request to open them and talk to him. Michael concluded she was likely still under the influence of the sleeping drought Marlowe and Sinclair had given her.

He took the opportunity to peel away the woolen cloak and loosen her dress and corset laces, hopefully to allow her to expand her chest as she breathed. After doing so, he held her close as he relaxed against the headboard and closed his eyes again.

Several hours later, she stirred in his arms. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her floral soap mixed with the stronger stale scent of old, wet wool. Michael smiled to himself, he didn’t care what she smelled like, he was just thankful she was alive. Leaning back his head he looked down at her face, and saw her eyes filled with terror.

“You’re fine now, sweetheart. I have you. All is well,” he cooed as he caressed her cheek, noting the small cut and darkening bruise on her face and the suck mark on her neck. Last night he’d cleaned the dried blood away, but in the darkness was unable to get a good look at her injuries. The cloak hid the disgusting mark on her neck, and it was a good thing too. He likely would have killed Marlowe as well had he known what they’d done to her drugged body. And he still had no idea to what extent they’d violated her.

Michael lay on his side and drew her into his embrace, holding her close as she trembled. He’d give anything to take the pain from her. She didn’t deserve this. He hated knowing he was responsible for sending her into Sinclair’s arms by not believing her. “I’m here sweetheart,” he cooed as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. She moved her lips as though she wanted to speak,

“Shh, my little minx. All will be well in time.” Michael gave her a reassuring squeeze saying, “I will never allow anyone to hurt you again, Elise. Ever.” He continued to hold her, trying his best to soothe her.

Elise visibly relaxed under his touch. “Michael,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t go...” she tried to speak, but was unable.

“I know you wouldn’t leave with him willingly. The guard saw Marlowe carry you and deposit you in the coach. We knew then you had to be drugged or unconscious in some way.”

She exhaled and closed her eyes as tears began to silently fall. Elise turned away from him and curled into a ball. He spooned with her while the great racking sobs shook her body, and all he could do was hold her as she whimpered softly before she fell back asleep.

Sometime later in the afternoon, Michael awakened again, to a soft knock on the door. When he opened it, Elise’s maid, Bridget, and a footman from Caversham House arrived bearing fresh clothing for both of them. The usually dour-faced young woman’s brow was creased with worry as she entered the room, took a look at the curled-up form of her lady asleep on the bed, set the clothing down and crossed the room to her mistress’ side.

“Lord Huddleston thought you might need these. Since James was coming with yer clothes and the coach to bring ye home, no one was going to keep me from seeing to my lady.” She sat on the bed next to Elise and stroked her brow, getting no response. With Elise’s unresponsiveness and seeing the cut and bruising on her face, and the mark on her neck, the maid looked at Michael with concern.

“She woke for a moment earlier this morning—only long enough to tell me that she did not willingly leave the ball—then fell back asleep.

“Of course she wouldn’t leave the ball with a strange man. She wouldn’t leave with you and she loves you.” Unafraid of him, the maid straightened her shoulders and came to stand directly in front of Michael. She met his gaze with a cold stare. “Whatever you said to upset my lady you’d better make your apologies. I haven’t seen her so sad ever as she has been this past week. So whatever you did, make it right, milord. My lady is good-hearted and don’t deserve the pain you put her through.”

He knew he should call the red-headed maid on her behavior, but Michael knew he deserved no less than everything she’d said. He cleared his throat of the knot forming just above his breast. “If she will have me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for my words and actions. I swear it.”

Feeling relieved to have the maid here, Michael nodded. “I will leave her in your capable hands then. I will take a room of my own close by. Do you require anything from the innkeep?”

The maid stroked Elise’s brow. “Fresh bedding,” she said, looking at the mud he’d left on the other side of Elise, “plenty of clean towels and hot water. I brought everythin’ else.”

He lifted the bundle of his clothing. “I will have it sent up immediately,” he said, glancing once more over at Elise. “Thank you. For... coming.”

Later bathed and dressed, he went below into the public room to wait for the maid to send word that Elise was awake. While Michael waited on his dinner he pulled apart a piece of hard bread, and as he prepared to take a bite he saw Ren stride across the threshold of the building. The look on his face was one of deadly intent. Michael lifted his hand and motioned for him to come over and take a seat.

“How is she?” Ren asked, taking a chair. “Where is she?”

“She is fine, upstairs with her maid, who arrived a couple of hours ago with a footman from Caversham House. But Elise is not awake yet. Her maid is determining the extent of her injuries now” Michael watched his friend scan the room. “There is no one that I recognize either on the register, or that I’ve seen. The innkeep and his wife have been sworn to silence on the matter, after I informed them there will be a trial for the accomplice.”

Ren sat back in one of the wooden chairs at his table. The thing looked like it belonged more to a little girl’s tea service than a seat for two grown men. Their gazes met, and Michael knew what he would ask next.

“Tell me how you killed the bastard,” Ren said flatly.

Michael pat his breast, where his pistol rested inside his coat.

“And Marlowe?”

Michael took a deep breath and became the attorney again. He did so because it allowed him to forget his guilt and pain. “Marlowe left in the custody of Cartland and his agent that followed the coach from London.”

“Why is she not awake?”

His voice cracked with emotion as his feeble attempts at detachment were useless. Through his emotion, Michael explained everything that occurred the night before. And when he was done, finished the remaining ale in his mug and stood.

“I want to see her,” Ren said.

Michael motioned to the innkeep’s wife, asking her to check on Elise. “Let’s see if that bulldog of a maid she has will let us near her.”

The woman returned with a message to give the maids upstairs a few more minutes to finish their tasks, then they could go up.

“The drug is wearing off,” Michael said as they climbed the steps to the second level. “Elise knew who I was for just a moment when she opened her eyes, but she closed them again after telling me she didn’t go with them willingly.” He paused in front of the door to her room and knocked softly. Looking at Ren, he added, “She’s been asleep since.”

Elise’s maid opened the door and let the men enter. She bobbed a quick curtsy, and Michael watched as Ren went to the bed and stood near the foot. Tears welled in Michael’s eyes when he saw them in his friend’s. His sister’s condition, the bruising on her face and neck which had become more colorful as the day progressed caused both men upset and anger.

“I should have stayed in Town,” his friend said, his voice a choked whisper. “I would have been there. I should have ordered more guards on her.”

“You were with your wife, who needed you as well. You cannot be everywhere.” He shook his head and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “No. It was my duty to protect her, and—” He met his friend’s gaze for a moment because of the shame he felt. “I failed. I failed, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to her, if she will let me.”

Ren went to her side, and stroked his little sister’s head and whispered reassuring words to her. Her eyelids fluttered open momentarily then closed again.

“’Lise? I’m here, Michael’s here, your maid’s here. If you want to go home, I can bring you.”

Michael watched her eyes flutter open, but they didn’t seem to focus on anyone. She closed them again and began to move her lips but no words came. He moved closer to the bed, wanting her to speak to him. He had to hear her voice. Wanted to hear her argue with him.

“Thirsty,” she said, her voice soft and raspy. Her maid brought her a glass of water. After she drank from it, she smiled. She opened her eyes again, and looked straight at him, and said, “Gun shot,” she took another sip from her glass. “Michael... did you... kill him?”

“Yes, minx. Sinclair is dead.”

She nodded her head. “Good. Marlowe?”

“He is in custody, and will be charged with kidnapping and assault upon a noblewoman. If I have my way, he will never see the light of day again.”

The look on her face was more relaxed now that she recognized he and Ren were there. “I’m tired,” she said, closing her eyes again.

“Go ahead and rest darling. Ren and I will be below.”

Back in the public taproom, Michael and Ren tried to plan how best to quell rumor and protect Elise.

“When I left I thought all was well between you, and that an autumn wedding was imminent.” Ren swigged the dark ale from his mug. “Then I learn from Grandmother and Lia that there was a growing disaffection between you. Before I plan her future, I need to know what your plans are regarding Elise. Is there still an agreement between you?”

“She will tell you no,” Michael said, “but we will marry as soon as I can secure a special license.”

“Why does she not wish to marry you now, after all these years?”

“Because I was an ass.” How many times over the last twenty-four hours had he told himself just that. He was an ass with regard to how he treated her. Michael had to apologize profusely and beg for Elise’s forgiveness if he stood any chance at happiness in this life. “Elise
will
marry me. Because she still loves me.” Michael thought if he told himself this over and over enough it would make it true. “And I... I cannot live without her.”

“You’re sure of this? Because I promised her I would never force her to marry someone she didn’t love.”

“She’ll agree, once I apologize and beg forgiveness.”

“See that you do then,” Ren stood and made for the door, then added, “for I love my sister and she has loved you for years.”

I
f His Grace, the Duke of Caversham, didn’t think his friend was the right man for Elise before, he knew now. He’d known Michael for over twenty years, and in all that time he’d never once heard his friend admit to being an ass.

Yes, he must love Elise very much to make such a pronouncement.

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

“E
lise will not tell me why she does not wish to marry you. She is, however, wanting to return to Haldenwood immediately,” Ren said as the two of them sat in Michael’s room eating breakfast the following morning. Elise was sleeping again, though did stay awake for several hours as she ate a tiny bit from her tray and spoke with her brother, without Michael present.

This put him a little on edge, not because he feared what she would say to Ren, but because he wanted to be with Elise when she spoke of the night of the abduction, to comfort her, to offer her his love and support. She obviously felt the need to speak to her brother without him. Since Ren didn’t come out of her room requesting pistols at dawn, he felt safe she was keeping that part of the story private.

“I told her we could leave as soon as she was ready,” Ren said. “Her maid will come with us, and you and the footman can return to Town on horseback.”

Michael listened to his friend as he ate the meager fare the inkeep called breakfast. The hard bread, cold eggs, rasher of bacon and unrecognizable pudding would have tasted better hot, he was sure, but by the time it reached them upstairs, the plate with the bacon had congealing grease around the edges. He was so hungry, he pushed the grease aside and dove into the stuff, washing it down with the pitcher of watered down ale the maid brought with it. When he was done with the bland fare, he pushed the tray aside, and began to pace the small room he and Ren shared the night before.