Eloisa's Adventure (24 page)

The
sickening thuds of flesh meeting flesh made Eloisa’s stomach churn.
She was already shaking so much she could barely stand up. Each
time she looked at the men, there seemed to be more and more cuts
and bruises appear. Both men were liberally smeared with blood but
neither of them seemed inclined to stop. She knew that if they
continued to fight, they were likely to beat each other to death.
Unfortunately, she had no idea how to get them to stop and listen
to reason.

As she
watched, she caught sight of a flash of a hand at Simeon’s side. It
didn’t register on her what was happening at first. It was only
when the hand reappeared holding what looked like a gun that she
screamed. Before she could move, a shocking blast from the wicked
looking object shattered the silence. It was so loud in the small
space that it made her ears ring, but that was nothing compared to
the sheer terror that swept through her.

Outside
the folly, several crows screeched their protest with a flurry of
feathers as they raced for safety. Inside, Simeon slumped to the
ground with a low groan. Eloisa stared in horror at Renwick. Before
he could do anything else to Simeon, she kicked his hand as hard as
she could and watched the gun disappear into the brambles. Rather
than take her eyes off the man at her feet though, she lifted her
foot again and kicked him hard between the legs. His howl of pain
was as satisfying as Simeon’s stillness was worrying. Anger and
disgust, and fear for the man whom she knew now held her heart,
refused to allow her to surrender. She raced across the narrow
confines of the folly and picked up the gun.

“Stay
there,” she snarled at Renwick who was still curled up in a tight
ball with his hands clutched protectively around his groin. His
breath came in short pants, but Eloisa didn’t really care. “I
should have kicked you there twice,” she ground out.

“Eloisa,” Simeon whispered, and made a strange gurgling
noise. He rolled over until he was lying on his back staring at the
ceiling.

Eloisa
gulped and swiped angrily at the tears that coursed down her cheeks
when she saw the large red stain that was rapidly spreading across
his chest.

“How
could you do that to your own cousin, you callous oaf?” she
snapped. When Renwick didn’t speak, and just continued to pant
heavily, she kicked the back of his hands.

“Don’t
do that,” he grunted through clenched teeth.

“You
deserve it,” Eloisa gasped. She glanced around her for something
she could tie him up with but couldn’t see anything other than the
belt that secured Renwick’s breeches. While she didn’t want to get
that close to him, she knew it was the only way she could stop him
being a danger to either her or Simeon again. She closed her eyes
on a mental prayer and pointed the gun at Renwick’s head while she
quickly undid his belt.

“You are
not going to check for yourself,” Renwick growled as he looked down
at his manly parts.

“You
should be so lucky,” Eloisa snapped disparagingly. It was
satisfying to yank hard on his belt and feel it fly free of its
material restraint. Before Renwick could offer even a token
protest, she tied a loop in one end and tightened it around his
wrist.

“Roll
over,” she ordered.

“Go to
hell,” Renwick spat.

With a
low growl, Simeon sat upright and pushed to his feet. The fist that
landed square in the middle of Renwick’s face had such force behind
it that blood exploded everywhere, and Renwick was rendered
silent.

“Tie him
up,” Simeon ordered in a voice that was nothing more than a
whisper. He flopped back down onto the ground and willed himself to
stay awake.

“Good,”
he muttered in relief when she had finished.

“Are you
able to get up?” She needed to get him back to the castle so she
could see how bad his wound was. Having never had to deal with a
gunshot injury before she had no idea what to do, but was certain
that Simeon would tell her.

“I can.
Just give me a hand, will you?”

Simeon
felt the room swirl, but gritted his teeth and forced himself to
remain upright. He couldn’t let her down now.

“It’s
just a flesh wound,” he growled when she asked him which way the
village was. “It hurts like the very devil himself is chewing on
it, but it is just a cut. It needs to be bandaged. It will be fine,
sweetheart. There is no need to traipse all the way into the
village. My friend should be here in a day or so
anyway.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“My
friend, Jeremiah, said that if I wasn’t back in three days he would
come and find me. He is a good man and will be true to his word. I
expect him to be here tomorrow.”

“Thank
heavens for that,” she whispered in a voice that was charged with
emotion. Having said that though she wasn’t sure whether they were
tears of relief at the thought of rescue, or regret at the thought
that her time with Simeon was coming to an end.

“I am
sorry, Eloisa,” he murmured gently.

She
shook her head and gave him a chiding look. “Let’s get you into the
kitchen. Then I can take a look at that wound and see if I need to
find a doctor.” Eloisa was terrified at what she might find beneath
his heavily stained shirt. The paleness of his face was alarming
which, together with the sweat on his brow and the large lump on
his temple, didn’t bode well for him.

“Do you
think Renwick will be all right in the folly all by himself?” she
gasped when she finally helped him stagger across the kitchen
toward the fireplace.

When he
had slumped down into the chair, he looked darkly up at her. “Do
you want to go back and check on him?” The thought of her being
attentive to any other man annoyed the hell out of him, and he
couldn’t prevent the glare he gave her.

Eloisa
stared at him and wondered what she had done to make him so mad. “I
just don’t want him escaping again, that’s all,” she said pertly.
“After all, I think you have had enough of a bashing for one
day.”

“I am
sure my cousin will survive,” he warned meaningfully, to which
Eloisa nodded. “Don’t go back to that folly.”

“I
won’t,” she replied waspishly.

“I mean
it, Eloisa. He is dangerous.”

Eloisa
sighed and shook her head, but resolutely remained silent. She
poured some water from the pale on the table and went in search of
the linen cupboard to look for some strips of cloth she could use
for the blood. When she returned to the kitchen, the sight that
greeted her left her momentarily speechless.

While
she had been gone, Simeon had torn his shirt off and now stood,
naked to the waist, in front of the fire. Bathed in the golden glow
of the flickering flames, he looked like a bronzed God. She had no
idea what he did in life, but whatever it was had honed the muscles
of his back to toned perfection.

Her gait
slowed as she walked toward him. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the
rippling movement of his back as he dropped the shirt onto the
floor at his feet. He must have sensed her approach because
although she hadn’t made a sound, he turned toward her. Her gaze
quickly darted away from the broad expanse of his hair smattered
chest and landed on the torn wound on his left shoulder. However,
she couldn’t do anything about the tell-tale blush that stole over
her cheeks as the need to touch him became impossible to
ignore.

“It’s
just a flesh wound,” he warned when he saw her awkwardness, and
misread it as worry over his wound. “I think the bullet must have
nicked my skin as it passed me. It just needs bathing.”

She
studied the wound. A part of her was appalled that she should be
having such extraordinarily wanton thoughts about him when he was
injured and in need of help. Giving herself a stern mental shake,
she turned her attention toward bathing the wound so they could see
it properly, and willed her senses to settle so she could behave
normally again.

“Sit
down,” she ordered quietly. “You are too tall for me to reach
you.”

Simeon
dutifully sat. He was immensely relieved that she was looking at
his shoulder and not at the clear evidence of his interest in her.
To say the atmosphere between them was sensually charged was a bit
of an understatement. One word, one look, was all it would take for
either of them to pass the point of no return.

“Turn
around, I can’t see with your head in the way,” she chided when he
turned to watch her dab tenderly against the jagged flesh. Although
she could see pink skin beneath, the wound was a graze and not deep
like she had feared. Still, it looked incredibly painful, and was
something that undoubtedly needed attention if he was not to fall
ill from it. To her consternation, rather than face the other way
as she had ordered, he turned his steady gaze on her.

“You are
so beautiful, Eloisa,” Simeon whispered.

“No, I
am not,” Eloisa replied quietly. She dropped the strip of cloth she
was using into the pale at their feet and went in search of
something she could find to cover the wound. “I don’t think it
needs stitches,” she declared as she disappeared into the linen
cupboard again. “We can bandage it for now and see how it is once
this storm subsides.”

He
waited for her to look at him with an impatience that began to
rankle. His fingers clenched tightly as they rested on his knee. It
seemed to take an age before she was satisfied with her handiwork
but she still didn’t look at him. When she eventually tried to move
away, he just couldn’t resist temptation any more, and placed his
hands on her hips to stop her.

“Thank
you,” he whispered. He waited until her gaze met his.

“Let me
see to your face,” she murmured.

“My
face?” he frowned.

“The
cuts and bruises,” she explained and began to dab at the myriad
marks that covered predominantly his chin.

By the
time she had finished sweat had broken out on his forehead. “Thank
you,” he croaked.

“You are
welcome,” she replied gently.

There
was something in his eyes that held her still. She looked into the
hypnotic depths of his steady gaze and felt herself drawn toward
him. This was something that she knew was incredibly foolish to
indulge in, but she could not deny the sensuality of the intimate
moment.

“Eloisa,” he murmured.

She took
a small step backward when he stood. When he bent down and swept
her off her feet, she gasped and stared at him in shock.

“Y-your
shoulder,” she protested weakly.

“It is
fine now,” he replied, completely unconcerned about it. Now that
the damaged flesh had the bandage to support it, the discomfort had
been reduced to nothing more than a little soreness. He was more
than capable of carrying her up the sweeping flight of stairs
toward what he now considered was their bedroom.

“How do
you like the castle?” he asked softly when he finally carried her
through the bedroom door and kicked it closed behind
them.

“It’s
beautiful,” she replied, unsure why he chose to mention it at that
moment. “Although I could do without the secret passageways and the
mad cousin,” she admitted a little ruefully.

He
smiled at her but remained quiet as he lay her tenderly on the vast
bed. Rather than ease away and leave her to rest, he followed her
down and settled beside her.

Before
she could speak, Simeon lifted a finger and traced the delicate
curve of her soft lips.

“What
about Renwick?” She whispered hesitantly.

“What?”
Simeon frowned and leaned back to look down at her.

“Renwick? What are we going to do about him?”

Simeon
shrugged. “Leave him. He is tied up and going nowhere.”

Eloisa
nodded and welcomed him when he dropped a tender kiss on her
lips.

“Tell me
to stop, Eloisa,” he pleaded softly.

“Stop
what?” she asked, a little bemused by his tender request. She could
deny him nothing and suspected that he knew it.

“It will
be too late in a moment for me to stop at all,” he warned her as
his gaze left hers, and began to travel slowly down the length of
her. Each dip and hollow was starkly outlined beneath the soft
material of her silk dress and was such sweet temptation that he
struggled not to just plunder.

“Don’t
then,” Eloisa challenged. She didn’t know where her daring came
from. She couldn’t ignore her curiosity or need. Something within
her was urging her to take what she wanted; what she needed because
this was Simeon. Everything would be alright with him in her life;
she just knew it.

“You
don’t know what you are asking from me,” Simeon growled but leaned
over her anyway.

Eloisa
felt his weight press her down into the soft mattress, but welcomed
him. Her hand trembled slightly as she lifted it and traced the
gentle sweep of his cheekbone beneath a liberal smattering of
stubble. The coarse hairs teased the tender pads of her fingers,
but she revelled in the unfamiliar feel of him.