Beloved (11 page)

“Your generosity humbles me, Ella.”

She reached the bed, calmly used the steps to climb upon the mattress, and sat with her feet dangling over the edge.

“You have quelled your natural feelings in order to help me with mine,” he told her. “That is generous.”

She gathered her chemise and held it to her. “Come here, please, Saber. I need your assistance.”

And he needed strength—very possibly much more strength than he could hope to possess. “Perhaps you could slip on that garment.
Then I could tie—”

“Out of the question. You must help me.”

Keeping his face averted, he approached.

“What are you doing? Saber, look at me!”

Perhaps his face wasn’t so very terrifying—not to a young woman of apparently strong sensibilities. But she could not see
where the true scars remained, remained forever open.

“I am cold.” Her voice rose a little.

Repentant, Saber went to her and took the flimsy, lace-trimmed white gauze thing from her. “I cannot imagine that this would
bring a great deal more warmth than your own skin.”

Her hands, shooting around his neck, stopped his frowning perusal of the garment. Ella pulled his hair away from the scars
on his face.

He lowered his eyelids.

“A cruel thing,” she remarked softly. “A cruel, senseless attack on the most handsome face I ever knew.”

He closed his eyes entirely. “Now you know why I prefer the darkness. Why I frequent a dim, old men’s club where my disfigurement
is of little note.”

“Your disfigurement.” Very gently, she smoothed her fingers along the raised white scar that made a crescent from his hairline,
through his brow—blessedly missing anything but the corner of his eye—to plunge across his cheekbone and the side of his jaw.
“An annoying little thing. But no doubt with a great deal of soothing—the kind of soothing it will receive from me—there will
be some relaxing of the skin.”

Saber tried to turn his face aside, but she quickly slipped a hand over his cheek. “Open your eyes, please.”

He did so at once.

She did not flinch. There was no evidence of disgust in her expression now. “Does this hurt?” She rested a thumb on the webbing
at the corner of his eye.

“No,” he told her truthfully. “And your eyes are not touched. I thank God for that.”

“As do I,” he confessed. “I should hate to burden some poor servant with the care of a blind man.”

“I would gladly have become that servant,” she told him. “I meant that looking into your eyes is the greatest joy I can imagine.”
She shivered.

“You are chilled, Ella. Come, let me help with your gown now.”

“I should prefer that you hold me.”

He would also prefer to hold her, but he was, after all, nothing more than a man—a man who had suppressed carnal needs for
far too long.

Ella wriggled closer. She wriggled close enough to thread her arms around his body and settle her face beneath his chin. Her
breasts pressed insistently against his chest.

“Ella, my sweet,” he said, and immediately hoped she did not hear the desperation behind the endearment. “It isn’t seemly
for us to remain so.”

“Nothing that has passed between us is seemly. I am not a green girl. I know perfectly well that my reputation is now ruined.”

He held his breath. She spoke as if she had obliterated her past. Was it possible for such a thing to occur? Saber rested
his chin on top of her head. “I intend to ensure that your reputation survives this evening. You will return to the company
via the route you took to get here. And you will explain that you wandered off and couldn’t find your way back.”

“I don’t want to.”

Her nipples were hard against his skin.

His rod was hard, very hard.

“Pomeroy Wokingham is the man who is trying to get my father to agree to give him my hand in marriage.”

Saber grew absolutely still. “Pomeroy?”

“Yes. I told you someone was to approach Papa. It was Pomeroy and his parent. And downstairs at the soiree he tried to take
me out into the gardens—without Mama. He said Papa told him he was at liberty to walk with me. I do not believe him.”

“Neither do I,” Saber said thoughtfully. The Wokinghams were well-known among a certain set. Saber had heard talk of them
from Devlin, who counted a number of questionable types among his acquaintances. “The Wokinghams shall never get their hands
on you, my love.” The father and son were said to have a predilection for sharing whatever female they procured.

“I like that.”

He heard Ella only dimly. “What do you like?”

“That you called me your love. You see, we are both of a mind. We both know that this is absolutely what is meant to be. We
will be together now. Nothing can separate us again.”

There could be no question of the Wokinghams interfering with this girl.

Saber took in a shuddering breath. “It is imperative that you go back downstairs at once.”

“Not unless you come with me.”

He turned cold. “Out of the question.”

“Then it is out of the question for me to go.”

“Don’t be childish.”

“Don’t you dare refer to me as childish! I have waited four years for this moment. I shall never allow you to leave me again.”
For emphasis, she placed a hard, openmouthed kiss on his lips. “There.” She drew her face back triumphantly. The evidence
of their kisses showed on her swollen lips and his beard had reddened her smooth skin. What could be done about her tumbled
hair, he could not guess.

“You have to save me from the Hon. Pom and his revolting father.”

Protective resolve, and an urge to seek the shelter of famil- iar shadows, warred within Saber. “Struan would not give you
to such creatures.”

“They are wealthy. Papa said as much. And well-connected.”

“And out of the question,” Saber retorted before he could temper his reaction.

Ella stroked his arms. She scooted up until she could plant kiss after kiss along the wretched evidence of his failure as
a soldier, as a leader and protector of men.

Saber grasped her waist. “Ella—”

“Hush. This is very good for you. Mothers tell their children that kisses will make them better.”

He laughed without mirth. “I am most definitely not a child. And you, my dear, spectacular woman, are not my mother.”

“Of course not. How silly of you to be literal. I merely meant that if mothers have said such a thing for so long, then it
must be so. Oh, Saber, I wish there was no need to leave this room—ever.”

“We cannot have very many of our wishes,” he told her. “They’ve been telling lies about you, you know.”

“Have they?”

“I know they absolutely cannot be true.”

His mind responded sluggishly. The tips of his fingers played over the soft skin of her thigh above a stocking.

“Obviously there is no courtesan in your life. You would not ever consider having anything to do with such a creature.”

Saber withdrew his hand.

“I heard those silly men talking about it to you at Sibley’s. But you were just too kind to tell them they were being foolish.”

“What are you talking about, Ella?” He had an unnerving notion that he knew.

“Countess Perruche. I asked Mama about her and she said the woman is a French courtesan and considered practiced in…Well,
I don’t know exactly what she’s practiced in, but it didn’t sound at all suitable. But there is definitely talk about you
and this Margot.”

So the chatter was all over London, was it? So much the better. He and Margot had designed matters exactly that way.

“We shall soon put that tongue-wagging nonsense to rest,” Ella said. “I’ll help you with it at once.”

“Ella, my dear friend, it is absolutely time for you to return to the others.” With that he put her firmly from him, took
up the chemise, and slipped it over her head. When she raised her arms, the sight of her all but brought him to his knees
again. He would not be able to continue this incredible restraint much longer. For that reason, among others, this temptation
must be removed.

Once she was dressed, Saber sat her on a stool before a small glass and sent up thanks for the silver-backed brush and comb
that rested on a crystal tray atop the dressing table. He concentrated on brushing out her hair.

Her light laughter brought his attention to her face. “What amuses you so?”

“You. Playing the maid. Although I must say that no maid ever brought me such delight by simply brushing my hair. Now we shall
see how you do with the braids.”

He handed her the brush and comb. “We shall watch
you
braid your hair, little vixen. I’ll stand ready with these terrifying pin things.”

While she deftly plaited her hair, Saber retrieved his shirt and made a fair job of reknotting his abused neckcloth. “I will
make sure you are safely on your way,” he told her, slipping on his waistcoat.

“You will take me,” she told him serenely. “I shall then go to work on these dreadful rumors about you and Countess Perruche—at
once.”

He could not talk to Ella about Margot. The relationship he shared with the French woman was something he was not ready to
explain. “Ella,” he said patiently. “You have helped me tonight.”

She grinned. “I think you have helped me far more. But soon the time will come when I shall read Mama’s book and know exactly
how to accomplish my part of the bargain.”

He paused in the act of putting on his black jacket. “Bargain? There is no bargain. Now you understand why I could not possibly
go about again. And why it has been necessary for me to stay away from you. Despite my misgivings, I don’t believe I shall
always regret what has passed between us. Eventually I may find great pleasure in the recalling of it.”

“You will not have to recall it.” She bounced to her feet and twirled. “See? Good as new. But very different inside, of course.”

“Ella—”

“You will not have to recall it because we shall repeat the event at least daily—possibly many times daily—from now on.”

Saber gaped.

Her laughter rang in the room. “Oh, you goose of a man. Did you really think a silly old scar would make me stop loving you?
You did, didn’t you? In Scotland, when you sent me away from Devlin’s house, you made sure I did not see the scars. And again
at Sibley’s. Your face was always in the shadows. I should be angry with you for thinking so little of me, but I cannot be
angry with you.”

“Thank you,” he said through dry lips. “How fortunate for both of us that early adversity made me a very determined person.
In fact, my lord, I find your scars quite dashing. My goodness, I shall have to discourage all the females who will swarm
about you. You will turn every head.”

Saber did not smile. “I have had experience of the way in which I turn heads. I have seen the distaste. And you are recovered
now, little one, but I have not forgotten that at first you all but collapsed at the sight of me.”

“Collapsed?” She looked from him to the chair where he’d pleasured her, and back. “I was shocked, yes. A natural thing when
one—thanks to a certain person’s lack of trust—a natural thing when one sees the evidence of suffering on a beloved one’s
face, on his body—without warning. And I did not almost collapse, you twaddle-brain. I
tripped
on the wretched carpet and all but fell. You should have been concerned with catching me, not worrying about your silly little
scars. So there!”

Her audacity—and her vehemence—rendered him speechless yet again.

“Now,” she said, slipping her hand through his arm. “Are we ready to go down and deal with what must be dealt with?”

“I …” Visions of Pomeroy Wokingham rose abruptly and wholly clear. Struan wouldn’t consider giving Ella to that libertine,
would he? “Very well. I shall accompany you down.”

“Of course you will. We will immediately set about stilling wicked tongues—and making certain the Hon. Pom turns his designs
elsewhere.”

“I shall take you to Struan and Justine. It has been far too long since I saw them.” A brief flush of warm anticipation surprised
him. He’d taught himself not to think of the relatives who had once been so close and so dear.

“They are going to be delighted,” Ella bubbled, urging him toward the door. “Of course, Mama has always expected that this
would come about. I have no idea what Papa may have thought, but I’m certain he will be happy for us.”

Saber halted before the door and turned to Ella. “Happy for us?”

“When we announce that we are to be married!”

When he could speak, Saber said, “Ella, of course I have caused you to… No, Ella, no. For your sake I will return you to the
company and ensure you are not bothered by further advances that do not please you. But, my dear one, that is all that may
be between us.”

Her lips parted and he saw her teeth come together.

He had to make her understand. “I … No, I confess that I
did
want to be with you as I was tonight. As I was, and more—much more. When I thought I set out to merely teach you to detest
the sight of me, I deluded myself. For that I must bear the guilt. You are blameless. But no harm is done, and I hope you
will forgive me.”

“F-forgive you?”

He felt a flooding of resolve. “You have given me so much. I believe it may be possible for me to move about in Society again.
If you can bear to look upon me, the rest are without importance.”

“You promised you would always be my friend,” she whispered.

“Yes. And I will. I am.”

“I didn’t know exactly what you meant at the time, but I did later. You meant friend of the kind who shared what we have shared.
I thought …I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you.” His misery was something he did not dare reveal to her. Every word must be carefully chosen. “I love you
as a sister.”

Ella tore her hand from his arm with such force she staggered. “Posh!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, Posh! Piffle! Twaddle! Poppycock! I don’t know exactly what is afoot here, but I will not stand for it! There. Now
you know.”

“Be assured—”

“I am assured. I am assured that you will not be allowed to retreat to that dismal house in Burlington Gardens again. You
will not be allowed to languish there with your two-headed monsters and nasty, lolling-tongued statues. When you languish,
Lord Avenall, it will be with
me
!”