Damien's Destiny (14 page)

He came to Debora’s room first and met a resistance he’d not expected.

She opened her door and didn’t change expression when he explained Rafe was not well and they were going to fetch him. As soon as she and Toria could be ready.

“Did Jason or Rafe request I come with you?”

Damien blinked. “No but the subject wasn’t mentioned. I’m asking you to go for your own safety. As I am Toria.”

“Does Rafe know your plan to bring him home with you?”

He hedged a moment and could tell she sensed his slight hesitation.

“Does he want to come here, Damien?”

Merciful Merlin, she was as relentless in her questioning as a hammer pounding the anvil. Again he paused. He didn’t know how to answer truthfully.

“Does he want to come, Damien? I know his pride. If he’s less than one hundred percent himself he’d rather be alone. He certainly won’t want me or Toria to see him. Maybe you but no one else.”

He grunted in exasperation. “You know perfectly well I can’t leave you here, Debora.”

Cold eyes stared at him. He’d never seen his sister so sure of being right. Her attitude almost flustered him, as he debated what to do. She started to turn from him.

“Take Toria, then. I’m safe from the baron. Take Toria. I’m not going.”

She marched to her room, back rigid and head stiffly proud as she shut the door behind her. Rather emphatically.

Damien groaned. He couldn’t carry her screaming all the way to Dover. Well, he’d tell the guards to move closer to the house. If Debby were inclined to wander, which he doubted, they’d have orders to stop her by any means necessary. Although no way would he permit Toria to rebel and stay at home with Debora.

He firmed his jaw as he walked. He didn’t feel like facing another belligerent woman.

Toria stood in her doorway even before he knocked.

“Don’t look so forbidding, Damien. I’ll be glad to go. I was just coming into the hall and heard you both. I’m not as skilled as Debby by any means but a woman’s touch sometimes helps.”

Once again she’d made him speechless. Would this wondrous girl never cease to surprise him?

“Thank you,” he said simply. He turned to give the further orders necessary before they could leave. His heart lightened a little. At least Toria would be beside him.

Certainly he could protect her better from whatever danger was coming. Coming ever closer, he greatly feared.

* * * * *

Two hours later he was not so pleased. He’d not counted at all on how her presence, warm and near him in the closed carriage, would affect his unruly body.

Toria finally looked at him curiously and touched his hand.

“Damien, are you uncomfortable? You seem to shift around a lot. Although I think your carriage is excessively well padded.”

He shot her such a look of indignation she widened her eyes. For once he didn’t care, he wouldn’t even try to hide his annoyance.

“You should know by now being near you affects my too responsive body. I’m sorry if I offend you, Miss Innocence but that’s the way it is. Now please sit on your own side of the seat and look out the window.”

He turned his body away from her as much as he could but he could tell by her small “oh” that she’d spotted his erection. After all, one could hardly miss anything that large. He could influence his actions but not his reactions. Merlin help him but he wasn’t really superhuman, much as he might wish to be. Even his powers didn’t enable him to control his constant desire to grab her and press her every inch against him while kissing those luscious lips. He wasn’t even sure right now he could limit himself to just a kiss, although maybe he could. He didn’t care to put it to a test.

Maybe he could stop himself from following through for now but nothing would halt this tormenting craving for Toria save possessing her entirely.

Toria put a hand on his sleeve and he pushed it off.

“Please don’t, Toria. I have nothing to say to you right now.”

His tone was sharper than he’d ever used with her.

Her eyes startled, she withdrew to her corner. They did not speak again and passed the rest of the trip in silence. Damien tried not to notice her, although he knew her questioning eyes sometimes fixed on him.

The Wicked Wench proved to be a small but clean inn, one evidently patronized by the more particular captains or crews. When Damien’s coach with its distinctive crest drew up, the proprietor rushed out, obviously primed to welcome them. Damien spotted Jason standing in the courtyard and from his expression, was quite glad to see them.

He didn’t appear surprised to see Toria. Doubtless he’d known Damien couldn’t leave her behind. Jason’s eyes searched the carriage as Damien assisted Toria to descend, his face falling for just an instant when no one else followed.

“I’m glad to see you both. Come refresh yourself and then we’ll talk.”

The occupants of the small barroom were mostly male and again Damien bristled at the admiring glances when Toria entered. A low whistle sounded and Damien started forward, only to realize he couldn’t come to fisticuffs with everyone who admired Toria’s glowing beauty.

Damien ordered a whisky for himself and a glass of wine for Toria but Jason just shook his head.

“I’ve had several drinks while I waited for you. Rafe doesn’t want anyone around and there’s little else for me to do.”

He looked an unspoken question at Damien who nodded.

“You can speak frankly in front of Toria. She cannot be kept in ignorance of the situation. I’d like to know more. Tell me anything you can about Rafe.”

“He’s in a lot of pain but won’t admit it. I think something is quite wrong with his right arm but even that isn’t as important as his state of mind. He doesn’t want to see anyone and only admits me for a short time. When he does let me in it’s only to apply the ointment on his scars and he says almost nothing.”

“I know about his arm,” Damien said absently, ignoring the startled looks of his two companions. “I think I’d best go see him alone. Will you stay with Toria, Jason?”

“Of course, Damien. He’s in the room to the right of the stairs.”

Damien nodded absently, as if this information also didn’t surprise him and leaving his whiskey barely touched, walked away.

Damien didn’t know for sure what to do next. He’d have to let events unfold a little more. He opened the door and walked to Rafe’s bedside.

“Hello, Rafe. Welcome home.”

Rafe turned from the wall, a look of surprise on his sober face. Damien stood motionless and saying nothing more, until Rafe flashed an unsteady smile.

“Hello, Damien. I guess I should have expected you.”

“You certainly should have, my friend. I’m not ready to give up on you, even if you do appear to be taking a coward’s way out.”

Shock registered briefly and then an indignation Damien rejoiced to see. He was doubly glad he’d come. There was much hope for a man with still enough pride to feel offended.

Rafe’s bitterness slashed out. “I assume your money paid for my release. I doubt if my father would have given up such a sum.”

“The money means nothing, Rafe. You know I’ll never miss it.”

As he saw a brief pain register on Rafe’s face he realized he’d just confirmed the Duke’s lack of interest in the fate of his only son. No way to undo it now. Damn Essingdon for a hardheaded bastard. Still unable to accept a son who was an artist instead of a rigid replica of himself. Rafe was much more of course, he’d grown to be an unusually compassionate and fine man. One who felt the pains and miseries of the lowest of mankind.

“I’m taking you to Tregaron, Rafe. I’ve got chalks and watercolors waiting for you. We’ll have to send for your other supplies when you’re ready for them. I simply didn’t know enough about oil paints to purchase them for you.”

“Damn you, Damien. I won’t go. I won’t be manipulated like a child.”

Rafe’s voice was cold and determined. He tried to hitch himself up in bed and grimaced in pain as his arm refused to obey him. Damien leaned over and yanked him to a sitting position.

“Now we can fight like men. You’re not an invalid and I refuse to treat you as one. Tell me what you plan instead of a few weeks with me? Staying in this room perhaps, or somehow getting back to your London flat?”

Rafe glared at him. “Damien, leave me alone. You know nothing of why I’m not fit for any human society. Although admittedly with your powers you might suspect what’s been wreaked upon my body, you can know nothing of the desolation of my soul. Leave it be, Damien, let me go to hell in my own way.”

Rafe again turned his face to the wall, although he didn’t slump over again.

“I do more than suspect, my friend. I know well what you’ve endured. Have you forgotten I’m a mage? Let’s deal with your arm first. What did those devils do to it?”

Rafe turned around, unable to resist the dominance of Damien’s formidable power. With a deep sigh, he revealed what he’d never disclosed before. Damien knew full well the additional torture it meant for Rafe to talk about his experience but felt it essential to his eventual healing. He exerted his power to force the man to talk. The healing of his body Damien could help along but the mental healing must come from within Rafe.

But he could loosen the gates a little. Rafe harbored too much pain bottled up in him for one man to endure.

The words came in a rush.

“It wasn’t the beatings, Damien. I could bear those. It was before, after they’d warned me and before they came in with the whips. They always gave me a specified time in which to confess I was a spy. Generally an hour. A hellish hour. Sometimes after they arrived they dragged out the horror by fingering the whips and giving me one more chance. Dreading the coming flogging was worse than the flogging. That waiting turned me into a shuddering sort of coward. Then the beatings followed, generally with the largest of the whips. At one of them, one big new jailer added to the torture. Right at the end he twisted my arm behind my back before letting me fall to the dirt. I’ve had no use of it since. I’ll never paint again.”

Although he made not another sound, tears were seeping down his cheeks. He dashed them off with the back of his good hand.

“Double damn you, Damien. I meant to never tell anyone any of this. No one should have to find out how fiendish men can be. More than I’d ever suspected.”

Damien spoke quietly, ruthlessly thrusting aside his anguish for his friend’s suffering.

“Hold out your arm, Rafe. Let me have a good look at it.”

Rafe did so and Damien smiled with relief.

“Nothing’s broken. I feared I would have to break and reset the bones. I’ll start on it now. It might take a while but I promise I can cure it. You’ll have to wear a sling for a while.”

Rafe stared to him with just a glimmer of hope and held his arm away from his body as well as he could. Damien concentrated on the crooked angle of the arm, his healing powers easing the rigid muscles. Rafe almost automatically tried to flex his muscles and felt a little motion creep back. He looked up with a flicker of faith as Damien took a pillowcase and ripped it, using one half as support and the other torn into strips to secure the sling.

“There, that will do for now. I can do much better when we have you home. We’ll work on it every day.”

Rafe sank back on his pillows, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to go, Damien.”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow. Now get some true rest.”

He walked out, leaving a suddenly sleepy Rafe and went back to Toria and Jason.

Damien drew up a chair and sat down. His whiskey was still on the table and he took a big swallow.

“Well, I can cure his body. His mind is another matter.”

“Did you get him to talk at all?” Jason asked. “Yes, of course you did. I won’t ask what he said. If he wanted me to know anything he’s had plenty of chance to tell me.”

Damien and Toria both picked up the slight hurt in Jason’s voice and Toria put her hand over his. Damien envied his friend, although her touch was light.

“He didn’t want to tell me, Jase. I forced him. You did all one mortal could do by bringing him here. You’re a true friend and he knows it. Don’t forget, without you fetching him he’d have had no chance at all.”

Damien finished his whiskey.

“We’ll see what he says tomorrow. I think he’ll go.”

He looked at Toria, his eyes softening as they always did when she came within his view.

“It’s still very early. I can do no more for Rafe tonight. Shall we all walk along the harbor for a while? I can certainly use some exercise. Carriage rides always leave me stiff and restless. Perhaps we could walk along the beach.”

Toria’s eagerness pleased him. “Is it true one can see Calais from here?”

“Very true but the day has to be perfectly clear. It’s a distinct possibility, so let’s go see. Want to come, Jase?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t want to leave Rafe. Sometimes he has nightmares and I try to wake him, even though I know he needs his sleep.”