Tananguard 02 - To Love a Lord (9 page)

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Allana said quietly.

Josephine shook her head slightly and yawned. “No, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” She came up to her knees and examined Connor.

“How is he?” Allana asked, coming to Connor’s other side and kneeling as well.

“I think he’s past the worse. If all goes well, you should be able to move him home in the next day or two,” Josephine replied quietly.

A tear slipped down Allana’s face as she looked at Josephine in appreciation. “Thank you.”

Josephine stared at her in surprise. “I…I didn’t really do anything.”

Allana smiled. “You calmed him. That was enough.”

“Was it?” Josephine asked quietly and sadly. She looked away from Allana.

“You truly loved each other,” Allana said more than asked.

Josephine nodded.

“What happened?”

Josephine swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Lucas Hoffman,” she whispered.

Allana nodded in understanding. “Lucas,” she said hollowly. “He came between you and my brother.”

A small sob broke from Josephine. “In the worst way possible, and now…,” she suddenly looked at Allana desperately, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, do not tell him I was here.”

Allana looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Connor will believe it was a dream. He must. Please. He cannot know I was truly here. It will only cause him pain,” she said pleadingly.

“But why? I don’t understand,” Allana said. Her own face pained as she then said, “Is it because of your son, my nephew?”

Josephine’s eyes widened. “How did you…?” she trailed off.

Allana smiled patiently. “I think a lot of people are drawing that conclusion. Your son looks very much like my brother.”

“Oh.” She let out a deep, drawn out sigh. “Then I will be leaving sooner than I had planned.”

“Leaving, but why?” Allana asked in distress.

Josephine shook her head unable to answer. She swallowed hard, and it was obvious she was trying her best not to cry.

“Is it because of William or Kara? Please, let me speak with them. Surely we can—”

“No, it’
s neither of them,” Josephine said in a small sob.

“Then who…,” Allana trailed off as Josephine looked at her then at Connor. “But why?”

“I cannot love him anymore,” Josephine said as tears streamed down her face. “Too many secrets…too many lies.” She pressed her hands to her eyes as though that could stop the tears and the pain.

Allana came to her side and pulled Josephine into an embrace, holding her while she cried. “I cannot promise I won’t tell him,” she said quietly. “But I will promise to wait.”

Thomas McGrath watched Maggie from beneath the tree. He took a bite out of an apple and just admired her from a distance.
She was a beautiful woman, young with long dark hair cascading down her back and big brown eyes. She was petite with lovely curves a man could hold against himself often. She looked exhausted, but who wasn’t after the events of the past few days. And then there were the shouts in the middle of the night from Connor Tananguard. Thomas didn’t think anyone had slept through those. It was sad, Connor fighting for his life, still mourning his lost love, young Josephine. Their story was truly tragic. Garret had shared it with Thomas, the truth of it all. The poor lad had been tormented by it, unable to keep it to himself and fearing telling William. There was a good twelve year span in age between Thomas and Garret, but they were like brothers. So Garret had come to Thomas with the news.

“What do I do?” he’d asked Thomas.

Thomas knew what he would have done in Garret’s place, killed Lucas. However, Thomas couldn’t allow Garret to do such a thing. The man was young and fool-hardy, but he wasn’t a killer. So Thomas had advised Garret to speak to Connor about it. .

“I can’t. I promised her, Thomas
. I promised her I wouldn’t tell him where she was. I gave my word. I cannot break that.”

“Then there is only one thing you can do. Comply with Josephine’s wishes, and hope for the best.” It was difficult giving that advice considering it wasn’t what Thomas would have done. Promise or no promise, he’d have gone to Connor and told him where Josephine was. Then he would have
made
them sort out their differences. But if Garret was good at one thing, it was keeping his word. And he had, keeping the truth to himself, watching Josephine suffer, watching Kara suffer because of Josephine’s silence and indifference, and watching his family torn apart because of all of it. Love was a difficult thing.

Maggie grabbed at her stomach suddenly, and darted behind a tree. Thomas gave a start. She was ill. He jumped to his feet and
hurried to her side.

“Maggie, are
you all right?” he asked from behind.

She didn’t look at him. She simply waved her hand at him as if to tell him to go away.

“My apologies, but I am not leaving,” he said simply. Then he flinched as she heaved onto the ground over and over. How could he help her? What could he do for her in such a situation? “Should I fetch Kara?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she managed.
She braced her hand against the tree and breathed heavily. Then she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her mouth before forcing herself to stand straight.

“But you’re ill.”

She laughed bitterly. “Kara cannot help me with my condition. No one can.” And then she began to weep. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said as she tried to push past him.

“
No, do not be sorry. Come here,” he said softly. He reached for her and embraced her gently, allowing her to simply cry while he held her. She fought him only for a moment before she clung to him and wept. It saddened his heart to see her so distraught.

“Shhh,” he cooed as he soothed her hair back. “All will be well. You will see.”

“How?” she asked. “I’m with child, with Lucas’s child.”

Thomas froze. It was Josephine all over again. He
remembered her being ill, and not because she was with child. Her heart was lost, and she lacked the will to live. When she discovered she was expecting, she almost ended her life because of the chance it could be Lucas’s. Was it possible Maggie felt the same way? “Lucas’s child? How did this come about?”

He felt her shaking, and soon realized she was laughing. She pulled away to look up at him, and his heart snapped. She was beautiful when she smiled even with the pale face and
the red, tear-filled eyes.

“How do you think it came about?” she asked dryly
, a smile still upon her lips.

“Ah, well
…of course I know that, but what I am trying to so delicately ask is did he force himself upon you? Are you distraught over this news?” Thomas asked frankly.

Her smile faded, and she bowed her head in shame. “No to both of your questions. I loved him, and I love him still.” The tears began again. “I hate him too, and I know I shouldn’t love him or feel happy I carry his child. But I do. I’m sorry, but I do,” she confessed.

“He treated you well?” Thomas asked.

“He did. That is
…until Allana married the Earl. The last few weeks were difficult. He grew angry, and he…he struck me more than once. I considered running away, but I was with child. I thought the Earl would turn me out when it was discovered. I didn’t know what to do, so I continued to go to him, hoping he would…,” she trailed off, growing quite solemn. “And now it is obvious he never loved me in return. I mourn when I know I should not.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “I am alone. I have no family. And I am afraid, even though Kara has offered me a home here, and Lord Cunningham has offered me a place as well.” The tears fell harder. “Oh, Thomas. Forgive me. You didn’t ask to hear this,” she said as she tried to pull away from him.

Thomas held her in place
with his hands on her shoulders. “Maggie,” he said, forcing her eyes up to his simply by the tone of his voice. “I did, and I am glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. You do have a home here. It is natural to fear the unknown, but you truly are among friends. You are part of our community now.”

“Do you think so?” she asked hopefully.

“I know so. Kara is fond of you already, and that means William will watch over you as well. And I am here. So you see? Already you have friends. The others will follow with time.” He smiled kindly to her. “And as for Lucas? You will heal, but you must mourn to do so. If you loved him, you
should
mourn him. Do not feel guilty for it.”

Fresh tears entered her eyes, and s
he nodded innocently. “Thank you, Thomas.”

He hugged her tightly, feeling no resistance this time.
“You are very welcome. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask.” He pulled away to look at her and make certain she knew he meant it. “And that includes a shoulder to cry on,” he added with a wink.

She laughed slightly between the tears, a small smile showing. “Thank you.”

He sighed within. He hated Lucas Hoffman, but the man had brought him a rare gift, a woman without judgment.

Connor pounded on the door for the third time. He hadn’t really thought this through, but he was here now. And he was certain he could see a light inside finally. He stood straighter, adjusting the collar to his white shirt beneath his long, black overcoat before quickly smoothing down his hair. The light from the house grew brighter then stopped. He saw the curtains to the window move, but the door didn’t open. He frowned. What if he’d woken the wrong woman? He forgot about Mrs. Lovegood, but for a housekeeper, she was seldom seen. So he decided to knock again.

“Who i
s it?” a voice asked. He smiled. It was not Mrs. Lovegood’s voice.

“It’s Connor.
”

The door cracked open slightly, and he could see her eyeing him from within.

“Connor?” Sophia asked.

“Yes. Who else would it be?” he said impatiently. It was dark out, but the moon was high, giving off plenty of light. Surely she could see him.

“It’s three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“It’s three?” he asked in astonishment. “
No! Truly? I had no idea it was so late.”

“Yes, it’s three,” she growled. Then s
he eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you. I thought you might want to go for a walk,” he
gave her his most charming smile.

“It’s too late for a walk.
I am in my nightdress. I was asleep, Connor,” she said irritably.

“Too late,” he frowned, shaking his head.
“It’s never too late for a walk, Sophie, even in your nightdress. Put on a coat and some boots. You will be fine.” He grinned at her like a fool.

Again she eyed him. She opened the door wider and reached to her left for something. The light grew brighter as she shoved a candle in his face.

“Och!” he exclaimed as the sudden light blinded him. He shied away from it, shielding his eyes. “Very unnecessary.”

She made her own exclamation at the sight of him. He thought he had cleaned up decently before coming over, but maybe he was wrong. He looked down at his clothes.
They looked straight. His long coat hung open and loose. His shirt was buttoned…partially. He’d been too hot and sweaty to button it fully, but at least it was tucked. There was a dash of mud on his boots, but there was nothing outstanding on his black trousers. He wasn’t dressed in high fashion, but his activities tonight weren’t meant for society.

She reached for his face, scowling fiercely. He hadn’t thought of his face, but isn’t that why he was here? Wasn’t that what really guided him to her home in the first place?

“Were you assaulted in the streets again?” she demanded as she grabbed his chin and turned his face left and right. “More like a bar fight. You reek of ale! Are you drunk?”

He opened his mouth to reply and shut it. He was tipsy, but he could hold his drink better than she. “I’ve had a bit to drink tonight,” he admitted. “Nothing that will cause me to vomit though.” He smiled crookedly and regretted it.

Her eyes flared in anger. “Go home, Connor Tananguard! You’re drunk and here for no good reason!” She turned to go inside.

“No, Sophie
, wait,” he pleaded, reaching for her, grabbing her arm.

She twisted from his grip easily and shoved him hard in the chest.

Sharp pain shot through him. He clenched his teeth and grunted heavily, holding his breath as the pain pulsed. His body curled in automatically, flinching away from her touch. His ribs had taken a beating tonight and that shove hurt like hell! Slowly, he loosed the air he’d been holding in a gravely rasp. Then he tried to inhale and cringed again.
Damn it!
He’d injured his ribs tonight, or maybe she’d just finished them off.

“Oh Connor! You’re hurt!” She reached for him, but he moved backward. “I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
Her face was pale, and she looked very upset. She was beautiful with her black hair pulled back in a loose braid.

He shook his head.
Beautiful or not, it had been a mistake to come here. What had he been thinking? He’d been thinking of that kiss over a week ago, that’s what he’d been thinking. He had remembered how she tried to doctor his beat up face and ended up in his arms at the same time. And then he thought maybe the same thing would happen tonight. He was a fool! “Not your fault,” he grunted. “I should go.”

“You can barely stand straight. You’re not going anywhere,” she told him
firmly. She came to his side and draped his arm over her shoulder. She was so petite to his tall form. “You’re coming inside, and then I’m going to fetch the doctor.” She began pulling him into the house, doing her best to support his weight.

He groaned
in agony as she forced him onto her sofa, and then he cursed several times over as he tried to lie down. “…apologize.”

Her eyebrows rose in amusement. “It’s not as if I’ve never heard
language like that before. My brother’s a sailor—a captain now, but still. Curses are curses.”

Connor gave the semblance of a laugh. He tried not to, but he couldn’t stop it and regretted it the moment he did.
Excruciating pain shot through his chest. He found himself fighting for air, his swollen ribs squeezing the air from his lungs. He wasn’t wheezing thankfully, but breathing hurt. All he could do was take short shallow breaths, and that didn’t seem to be enough. He fought the urge to panic as the need to breathe deeply pressed upon him.

“Oh Connor, hold on. I’ll get the doctor
,” Sophia said as he struggled.

He grabbed her hand and shook his head at her. “Stay.
Make Mrs. Lovegood go.”

He could see the worry in her eyes
as she shook her head. “I have to. Try to stay calm. Breathe slowly. I will hurry.” With those words, she slipped away from him.

“Try to stay calm,” he grumbled with what little breath he had.
He knew she hadn’t left yet. She was in a night dress. He couldn’t see her, though, and he didn’t feel like moving. Calling to her was out of the question, so all he could do was wait. It wasn’t long before he heard her footsteps in the living room, heading for the front door. He tried to tell her to stay again, tell her he didn’t need a doctor. A rib or two were injured, but he didn’t think anything was broken. All a doctor could do was tell him what he already knew. “Sophie,” he wheezed.

“I’ll be back, Connor,” she called to him as she left the house.

“Sophia, don’t go,” he groaned in reply. He already knew what was wrong! He didn’t need a doctor! He needed rest…and a more comfortable position.

He did his best to reposition himself. The sofa wasn’t comfortable at all.
He needed to remove the pressure from his ribs, but nothing helped. He tried to call for Mrs. Lovegood. He could use some help moving positions, but the woman must be a sound sleeper to have slept through all of tonight’s commotion. If only she would wake and come downstairs.

Connor did his best to shift again and get comfortable.
Soon he found himself draped over the sofa, long legs dangling off one end while he lay flat on his back. It really wasn’t better than any other position, but he didn’t want to move anymore. He needed more drink to dull the pain. That’s what he needed.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He let his mind wander to the woman he knew he was falling in love with. She was so stubborn. She refused to believe she was worthy of him. She was blinded by their different stations in life, unable to believe a man such as him could truly want her, a commoner. Well, he did, and he always would.

He was uncertain how his father would react to the match. Connor was the eldest of two. His father had been shaping him since the day he was born. Then Connor had left for university and had not been home but once since. He had no intentions of going back any time soon either. His father would simply have to accept his choice in a wife. Connor had made his own fortune over the past three years. Fighting for bets had started it, and Connor’s good sense for business had earned him the rest through well thought-out investments. He would travel to America and start a new life there with Sophia if his father gave him grief. He doubted the man would, though. They may not have always gotten along, but Lord Marcus Tananguard doted on his children, even Connor.

Sophia returned with the doctor
after quite some time, and Connor felt far too sober as the man prodded his ribs.

“Yes
, that hurts!” Connor growled, swatting the doctor’s hand away. Sophia was pacing back and forth near the end of the sofa. She stopped and frowned at him.

“Connor, behave. This is why you shouldn’t fight,” she scolded.

The doctor chuckled quietly, but he didn’t comment on the matter. He did, however, stop digging at Connor’s ribs. He stood and looked down at him.

“I do not feel any
thing broken. We need to get your shirt off, so I can look at the skin. You could simply have deep bruising…or you may have a cracked rib or two.” He motioned for Connor to sit up.

“Help me,” Connor groaned as he tried to sit
up on his own and failed. He held his hand out for the doctor to take.

The doctor motioned Sophia.
“Come help as well. I will brace your husband while you help remove his shirt.”

Connor’s eyebrows rose in amusement.
Husband,
he thought, but he didn’t correct the man and neither did Sophia. Her face had gone pale, though, but Connor suspected it had more to do with the removal of his shirt than the misconception of their relationship.

“Yes, dear wife, help me with my shirt,” Connor said
with a sly smile. Then he groaned as he shifted to remove his shirt. He was shocked at how badly this simple feat hurt. He cursed. “This is not how I imagined the rest of my night,” he grumbled through gritted teeth. “Come, Sophie, I truly need your help.”

She stood rigidly, arms crossed dangerously in front of her. “Oh?” she asked. “And how did you imagine your night…Husband,” she added acidly.

He blinked
innocently.

“I think you and the doctor can manage without my help. I am retiring for bed and don’t even think of joining me!” she warned, and she left the room.

The doctor chuckled lightly. “Newly married?” he asked Connor quietly.

Connor nodded.
No reason to tell the man the truth.

“Perhaps you should think better of
drinking late and fighting in bars,” he replied. “Here.” He pulled at Connor’s shirt, and between the two of them they were able to get it off.

Sophia entered the room again. “On second thought, maybe you should
go back to—”

She inhaled sharply in shock, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared in horror at Connor’s chest. He glanced down and saw the bruises. The Italian had hit him several times there,
but it was expected in a fight. He was used to seeing such things here and there on his body, but he hadn’t taken into account an innocent woman seeing such things.

“It’s nothing, Sophia. Calm yourself. I will be fine,” Connor tried. It didn’t help his cause that the doctor was examining the bruises, causing Connor to sound forced and pained.

“Fine?” she asked hysterically. “How can you be fine? Look at you!”

Connor usually came away with many bruises on his chest and back, his arms and face. Even his legs had been bruised and bullied during a fight. He thought he’d faired decently tonig
ht in terms of bruises. “I’ve had worse.”

She looked as if she wanted to slap him. “
Connor—”

“The bruises are deep,
but he will mend,” the doctor interrupted. “He needs rest more than anything.” He turned his attention to Connor. “I can prescribe you something for the pain, but I find willow bark tea works wonders.”

“He will use the tea,” Sophia said immediately. “I do
not trust those other medicines.”

The doctor nodded, pulling something from his bag. He handed it to Sophia. “Here is enough willow bark for a few days.” He turned his attention to Connor. “I’ve done all I can for you. No strenuous activities for at least six weeks—eight to be safe. So i
f getting in brawls is a habit of yours, you will have to avoid the temptation.”

“A habit? I certainly hope it is not a habit, but this is the second time you have come here with a bruised face,” Sophia said.

“No, not a habit—a hobby,” Connor said then grinned at the shock on her face.

“You’re a boxer then?” the doctor asked curiously.
“It would explain the accuracy of those bruises.”

“
I used to box. Now…,” he eyed Sophia uncomfortably. “I fight for money when it suits me,” Connor confessed.

Sophia gasped.
Then she scowled at him. “Liar,” she said.

“I tell the truth.”

“Did you win?” the doctor asked.

“I did. The other man looks much worse than I do.” Connor winked at Sophia.