Nick had never been so uncomfortable and delighted at the same time in his life. Waking with all of Faith’s soft curves tightly fitted against his body was pure torture and absolute heaven. She was all curves, with a narrow waist, full hips, and delectably plump breasts.
Moving his arm pulled at the scabs forming on his back, but he couldn’t resist running his hand down her hip to her thigh and back again until he settled at her ribs.
When he’d asked her to lie with him the day before, he’d expected her to refuse. Then her tears had nearly broken his heart. He’d seen women cry before, but it was usually to gain some favor from him. Faith’s tears had built up over days of strain in an untenable situation. She had broken down and let him comfort her. It was the most useful he’d ever felt.
A sliver of sunlight filtered through the curtains. Nick wished he could have remained fitted to Faith’s backside for hours, but servants would arrive soon and he didn’t know what the day would bring.
With agonizing slowness, Nick pushed back until he could sit up, and slid to the edge of the bed. Still wrapped in the sheet, he made the effort to pull on the clean breeches left for him by Jane. Looking at the blouse, he agonized at the thought of dragging the fine cloth over his ravaged back.
The sheets ruffled and a low feminine sigh followed.
Nick’s pulse tripped at the sound and how perfect she was in every way. He turned to find her stretched out with her arms above her head and every inch of her curves arched on the mattress. If the exertion wouldn’t have killed him, he’d have seduced her on the spot. As it was, he was in no condition for such activities. “Good morning.”
She rolled to her side and opened her eyes. “How do you feel, Nick?”
Having promised never to lie to her again, he said, “Sore but rested.”
Faith rolled from the bed. Her cream day dress was wrinkled and her hair a wild mass falling out of her bun. She pointed to the table. “I suppose the servants were here last night and took the soup away.”
Noting the empty table, Nick nodded. “I hope we are to be fed this morning or we shall regret not having forced more soup down yesterday.”
She slid on her slippers, brushed her curls from her face, and stood. “We must have slept a long time.”
Nick stepped in front of her and held her by the arms. “How do you feel?”
Lowering her chin, she gazed up at him from hooded lids. “I am sorry for crying. You have been through so much, and I have no right to tears.”
With a kiss on her forehead, Nick smiled. “You have every right, sweetheart. None of this should have happened to you. I am to blame, and if you never wanted to speak to me again, you would be perfectly right.”
A scratch at the door was followed by Jamie and Thea entering.
Nick dropped his hands and stepped away. He longed to know how she would have responded to his statement, but it would have to wait. Though, he suspected, she would be well rid of him when this mess came to an end. She needed him for the moment, and her softhearted nature made her care for everyone around her. When she had time to reflect on what he’d put her through, Faith would walk out of his life, and he would be powerless to stop her. He would not blame her. Nothing he could ever do would make up for what he put her through.
Jamie hefted a fresh bucket of water, while Thea placed a tray of food and coffee on the table. The scent of fresh yeasty bread filled the room, along with sausage and coddled eggs with some kind of herbs.
Thea stared a long time at Faith. “Are you all right, my lady?”
“Yes. Thank you, Thea.” She took the girl’s hand.
“And His Grace?” The cook didn’t glance at him.
“His back will need time to heal, but he is better today.” Faith offered a hint of a smile.
Thea nodded, then lowered her voice. “It is just the one they call Charles here now. The other two have fled. We are free to move about, but I fear sending Jamie for help, lest Charles take my disobedience out on you.”
Wishing he could put on a shirt, Nick stepped closer. “Do not put you or the boy in danger, Cook. We shall find another way. By now, MacGruder would have noted the invasion. I have hope that two days ago, he would have sent for help.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed with worry, but she forced a smile for Thea’s sake.
Jane entered with soap and clothes just as the younger servants were leaving.
Holding a chair for Faith, Nick leaned down and asked, “What troubles you, sweetheart?”
Faith sighed. “I have kept something from you. Mr. MacGruder came to the wine cellar.”
“What?” He sat across from her, trying to process what she’d said.
“He came to rescue me, but I refused to leave you and the servants. Surely someone would have died for my leaving. I couldn’t bear it.” Her voice rang tight with emotion.
She was the most frustrating woman he’d ever met. Lord, but how brave she was, and probably right. When’d he’d pulled himself under control, he spoke calmly. “When was that?”
She stared at the ceiling and pressed fingers to her thumb as if counting before shaking her head. “Time is so confused when in the dark for a long time. The first time you were taken. It couldn’t have been more than an hour before they brought you back to the cellar.”
Nick stared at his hands. She was right about time getting away when life was suspended by horror. His voice was tight and unfamiliar. “Then my pretty lie to the children might actually have been the truth.”
“Are you very angry at me?” She held her breath.
He was, but at the same time he couldn’t fault her. “I’m furious that you did not save yourself.”
She sighed and turned her gaze away.
“However,” he added, “you were probably right, in that someone would have been punished for your leaving. The boy likely would have been beaten or killed as an example and my own death expedited as they would feel pressured for time. But, Faith, must you be so brave?”
Warmth bloomed on her cheeks. “I am not brave, but I do know right from wrong. Still, if Mr. MacGruder went for help two days ago, it will still be four or five before we might be rescued. You will not survive, Nick.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes, though she brushed them away.
Touched by her caring, Nick forced a smile. “We shall have to do our best and hope Jean-Claude and Joseph are delayed.”
“Perhaps Charles can be persuaded to release us.” She sipped a cup of coffee.
Nick shook his head. “That is unlikely. Charles has his own agenda, and I doubt it includes Joseph learning of his duplicity. He would land in my shoes, and that’s the last thing he wants.”
“Why don’t you tell them about Charles? Maybe that will be enough to keep you alive. At least it would divert their attention.” Faith’s eyes brimmed with hope.
“It might, but it would lose us the one person who does not want me killed. If not for Charles, I might be dead already and you might not have been fed. He will see that you are safely returned home should I die here. I don’t know what the others might do to you.”
It was a harsh reality and he hated putting thoughts of her own danger in her head, but the truth was what would save them or be their undoing. He would lie to the spies he once called friends, but he would not lie to Faith.
She stared at him, a bite of sausage perched on her fork and frozen halfway to her mouth. “You have that much faith in Charles?”
“No. But he is less ruthless than the others and believes himself a gentleman.” Nick shuddered inside at what a fiend like Joseph Fouché might do to Faith if he got a notion that she could help his cause.
Faith blinked.
Jane stood behind her holding a shawl, gaping.
With a laugh, Faith popped the sausage in her mouth. She continued to chuckle while she chewed. “You really meant it when you said you would not lie to me anymore.”
“I meant it.”
Jane placed the shawl over Faith’s shoulders. “I think I would prefer a pretty lie at this point.”
Laughing, Nick agreed. The movement sent a spasm of pain across his back and he bit down on a curse. He fisted his hands on the table until the pain subsided. “This will take some time,” he said to himself, though both women studied him. “Jane, does Charles keep the keys with him at all times?”
“He gave them to me to release my lady, but other than that, he has kept them. He unlocked the door this morning and let us in. I assume he will lock the door again when I leave.” She had come close and kept her voice at a whisper.
“And did he take his wine last night despite eating alone?” Nick forced down a few more bites of bread, and had to rest. He leaned one arm on the table and hoped his rudeness would be forgiven as he sipped some bitter coffee.
“He drank an entire carafe and could barely get himself off to bed.” She sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
Interesting. Nick worried over what Charles planned for the day ahead. “What has he told you about today, Jane?”
“Only that my lady may have a bath if she wishes.”
Nick glanced between the two. “He will ask you to dine with him tonight, Faith. I would bet on it. You should go and see what he wants. Jane, get your lady a kitchen knife to put in her boot, should his desires be of an amorous temper.”
Bright red, Faith put her fork down. “He wouldn’t.”
Shrugging, Nick said, “I don’t think so, but it’s best to be cautious. If he touched you and you didn’t kill him first, I would have to.”
Her blush deepened and disappeared beneath the low dip in her dress. “Get me the knife, Jane.”
Pride swelled inside Nick, but his strength waned. “I’m afraid I must return to bed.”
“I will go and get fresh bandages, Your Grace.” Jane rushed from the room.
Nick stood with less difficulty than before and walked to the bed. He would have loved to rest on his back and watch Faith finish her breakfast, but he had no choice but to lie on his stomach or side. Opting for his front without her sweet body to lean against, he was unable to keep his eyes open.
* * * *
Awakened by a cold blade near his ribs, Nick jerked to the side. Pain shot up his back.
“Shh…You’re all right. It’s only a scissor. I’m cutting the old bandages away.” Faith’s voice was soft and soothing.
Nick relaxed but turned his head to see her kneeling on the bed. She’d changed into a soft yellow dress and smelled like roses. “You’ve had a bath?”
“I didn’t want to wake you to change your dressing, so Jane arranged a bath while you slept. I’m happy to have my hair clean again.” She put the scissors aside and eased the bandages away from his back.
The odd sensation of honey sliding away from skin was not painful. “May I touch your hair, sweetheart?”
She froze, the cloth halfway across his back. “Perhaps, when I’m finished. If you wish.”
“I’ve been dying to touch those curls since the first time I saw you attempting to tame them back into a chignon,” he admitted.
“My hair is impossible.” She cut the other side of the dressings and tossed them aside before beginning to clean his wounds.
“I have had many fantasies about your hair and other parts of you.” He sighed as his own thoughts caused him discomfort and it was a relief he was facedown.
Silence filled the room for a heavy beat before she asked, “Have you?”
“Of course.” The way her hips swayed when she walked had fascinated him from the instant he saw her walking with her friend Poppy across the ballroom that first night they met. He didn’t want to frighten her, so he kept that thought to himself.
Busy cleaning his back, she said, “I think I would like to hear about those fantasies when you are feeling better. I have always been told my figure is not appealing to men. I’m not tall enough, nor slim enough. My mother said we were lucky you had not seen me prior to her letters or you would have taken one look at my round hips and run in the other direction.”
Rolling to his side so he could meet her gaze forced her to stop her work. She was as red as a summer rose and wouldn’t look at him. “Faith.”
She kept her chin turned down and her eyes on the washcloth in her hands.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” His erection was certainly evident, but there was no help for that and he was in no condition to relieve his desires.
Faith obeyed.
“Your mother is wrong. I’m sure your stunning figure is talked about amongst men quite often when ladies are out of earshot. However, should I ever hear such talk, I will call out those men and dispatch them immediately. That being said, you should know, I find you distractingly attractive and have since we first met. I love every curve, and should you ever honor me with your body, I shall worship you from head to toe.”
Those stunning golden eyes stared back at him in wide awe. “Really?”
Taking one of her hands away from the honey-covered cloth, he placed it firmly over his painful erection. “Very much so.” It came out as a groan when her hand closed slightly.
Pulling her away before he hurt himself, he laughed and rolled back to his stomach. His movements were dilatory until he reached a less painful position. “You must give me a short time before I am ready for such actions, I’m afraid.”
Returning to her work, she had the gentlest touch and caused him minimal pain. “Then my mother was wrong and all these years I have wished to look more like Aurora for no good reason.”
“Your friend is lovely and I mean her no slight when I tell you, it is not her figure that is talked about in gentlemen’s clubs.” Nick closed his eyes and settled his desires.
She was silent for a long time, and he hoped she was pleased. “Some of these wounds should have been stitched, but they have stopped bleeding and are healing. I see no signs of blood poisoning.”
“Due, I’m sure, to your excellent care.” Nick reached out and wrapped his hand around her leg.
“I think it’s more likely your strength, but either way, it is a good bit of luck. A blood infection with all those open wounds would be a disaster. I’m going to put more honey on and cover them back up.”
He wanted to know how she would feel about him when this was all over. If he lived, she would likely run back to London and never see him again. His heart ached with the knowledge, though he couldn’t blame her.
When she’d gotten him all bandaged up again, she said, “Mr. Schulmeister has asked me to dine with him, just as you said he would.”
The tightness returned to Nick’s gut whenever he thought of Faith being out of his sight. “And has Jane secured a knife?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if I would have the courage to use it though.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Only if he acts improperly. If I know you, that alone would put you in enough of a temper to stab old Charles good and deep.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“Then you take his keys and we flee as far from here as we can before the others return.” Nick kept her hand, rubbing a circle on her soft palm.
“And if he does nothing inappropriate?” There was fear in her voice and he hated hearing it.
“I do not expect you to strike without provocation. Charles is a big man who would likely overpower you. Have dinner with him, answer his questions if you can and you want to, and then come back here and we shall talk about it. Don’t provoke him, Faith. He’s smart enough to work successfully for two separate governments without detection.” Nick wished he could take her place at the table, but he was in no condition to demand anything. He couldn’t overpower Charles while his back was agonizing and he was so weak.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m afraid, Nick.”
Pulling her into his arms, he hated himself for causing her this pain. He kissed the top of her head. Roses and Faith’s lovely warm scent filled his senses. “You are the bravest woman I have ever known. No one could have borne these last five days better.”
With her head tucked under his chin, she sighed. “When this is all over, I shall need to sleep for a week.”
“I shall see that you are not disturbed, sweetheart.” His heart broke with the knowledge that she’d not want him anywhere near once she was safely back in her West Lane home with friends she could trust.
“You should rest, Nick. Your back is healing but you have eaten little and you need to recover more fully.”
The key turned and the door opened, revealing Thea with another platter of food. “I’ve come with His Grace’s supper.”
Kicking the door closed behind her, she carried the tray to the table and lowered her voice. “It’s not as grand as what will be in the dining room, but it will help you gain your strength back.”
“Thank you, Cook,” Nick said and sat up, away from Faith. “I will do my best to eat it all.”
Thea beamed. “Jane is coming to help you dress, my lady.”
A long sigh pushed from Faith’s lips. “I suppose it is time.”
The scabs on Nick’s back pulled and the deeper wounds ached with every move. He could not imagine a time when he didn’t hurt. It seemed years rather than days. Yet even in his discomfort, he would not trade a moment spent with Faith while she still needed him.
He rose from the bed and made his way to the table. He still couldn’t get a shirt on and with only the bandages to cover him, young Thea wouldn’t look at him.
The door opened again and Jamie ran in, followed by Rumple.
The dog jumped on Faith and yipped enthusiastically.
“You have grown.” Faith laughed and scratched the puppy behind his ears.
Nick sat.
Rumple sniffed the air and approached more cautiously.
“It’s okay, boy. I’ll live.” Nick hoped he was telling the truth.
Bounding over, Rumple’s tongue hung to one side and his tail wagged. He jumped into Nick’s lap.
His soft fur and enthusiastic tongue were a welcome relief to the serious pall that had fallen over him and Faith. “You are a good boy.”
Thea gave him a horrified look due to the proximity the puppy had to her food tray. She stormed over and bundled up Rumple. “I will bring him back when you’ve finished eating. The Austrian said the beast may stay with you tonight.”
“Thank you.” Nick watched Thea, Jamie, and Rumple leave and his heaviness returned. He had too many lives depending on him to get them to safety, but he had no means to save them. His stomach churned.
Faith ran her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Don’t think so much, Nick. Eat and get well.”
He marveled at how easily she read him. He was a master of hiding his feelings, yet Faith knew his every emotion before he did.