Текст книги "Truce"
Автор книги: R. L. Mathewson
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter 10
He absently rubbed his ear as they rode through the city. His mother and father couldn’t say enough nice things about Elizabeth. He wanted to hurl. James seemed to agree with them. He nodded quite often and smiled. Dear God, the man was smitten with the little minx.
James and Elizabeth, the idea was horrifying. Having her as a sister-in-law would drive him to drink. Poor James, the bloody bastard would be stuck with her day and night. Night. The idea of James experiencing his minx was not comforting. His minx? She wasn’t his anything. That didn’t mean that he wanted her to join the family, because he didn’t and she wouldn’t be. He wasn’t going to put a stop to it over jealousy. He had future generations of Bradfords to worry about after all. Just because the idea of her with another man made his blood boil did not mean that he was jealous. Just the opposite in fact. He didn’t want to see any man tied down with such a horrible woman.
“What’s going on?” James suddenly asked, making him realize that he’d been glaring at his brother since they’d left the ball.
“Fire!” their coachman yelled as the coach came to an abrupt stop, jolting them all.
“Harold, it’s our house!” Danielle cried.
“Nonsense,” Harold huffed as he leaned over to look out the small square window.
“It is!”
Robert was already jumping out of the carriage and running before the last word was out of his father’s mouth. Ahead of him Lord Norwood and, damn it all to hell, Elizabeth were also running towards the large blaze.
Elizabeth stopped in front of the crying maids. “Johnny’s in there!”
“Who’s Johnny?” Elizabeth asked, getting the attention of the maid closest to her.
“He’s the cook’s grandson. He’s visiting. Oh, he’s so small!” the maid cried, her horrified gaze fixed on the townhouse slowly being consumed by flames.
She grabbed the maid’s shoulders, ignoring the smoke and blaze for a moment. “Where is he?”
“In the back! In the servant’s quarters!”
“Elizabeth, get back!” her father yelled from the line of men handling the buckets of water.
“You’re sure he didn’t make it out?” she asked the maid, ignoring her father's demands.
“Yes! He was crying when they dragged me out!”
“Okay, the back you say?”
“Yes!”
Elizabeth grabbed a passing bucket of water and poured it on herself. “My Lady?” the maid asked, stunned by the odd behavior, but Elizabeth was already off and running into the smoke filled house.
“Elizabeth!”
“Beth!”
She ignored the shouts and pressed her wet shawl to her mouth so that she could breathe through the thick smoke. She ducked low and moved forward. Her eyes were already stinging by the time she made it to the front step. She had no idea where the fire had started, but she had a good idea that it had started on the second floor since she didn't see any hint of flame through the thick smoke. Old houses like this went up quickly once the flame took hold so she knew there wasn’t much time to guess. She moved to the back of the house, jumping over rubble and avoiding the crumbling ceiling along the way as she prayed that she was headed in the right direction.
“Johnny!” she screamed, coughing as she made her way through the smoky kitchen to the back rooms. She hadn’t been in this house in over ten years, but she was able to get her bearings, she knew it as well as her own.
“Johnny!” she yelled again when she reached the servants’ quarters. She remembered the cook had the room at the end of the small hallway and kept walking, praying that nothing had changed since she’d last been here.
Halfway down the small hallway a hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her to a stop. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Robert demanded, yelling so that he could be heard over the loud crackling of fire and the sounds of timber crashing close by.
Desperate to find the little boy, she pushed at his arm until he let her go and practically ran to the cook’s room. She threw the door open. Through the smoke she could just barely make out a small bed made up on one side and a small pallet on the floor on the other side of the room. This was the room. It had to be.
“Johnny!”
“Here,” a small voice said, sounding terrified.
“Under the bed!” Robert yelled.
They both quickly dropped to their knees. Elizabeth leaned down and peered under the bed and nearly wept with relief when she spotted the small boy curled up beneath the bed.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Elizabeth said softly around a cough as smoke threatened to suffocate her.
The little boy shook his head. “Come here, you’re worrying your grandmother. You don’t want to do that, do you?”
“No,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “I’m scared.”
“I am, too. I need you to come out here, Johnny, and help me,” she said firmly, hoping the demand would be enough to convince him to come out.
The boy thought it over before reluctantly nodding. Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand. When a loud crack echoed throughout the room a few seconds later, the frightened boy tried to pull back, but Robert grabbed his arm and yanked the boy out the rest of the way before he could move back. Johnny shrieked in surprise.
“Good, let’s go,” Robert said, reaching back and taking her arm. He pulled her towards the kitchen where they both froze in horror. The way they’d come was now engulfed in flames.
“Out the back!” Elizabeth yelled. She tugged on his hand and pulled him towards the door that led to the small garden. She managed to yank the door open and fled the house with Robert in tow.
“I want my Grandma!” Johnny sobbed.
Robert nodded sympathetically. “We’ll take you right to her.” He looked back at the house. Thankfully the house was made of thick stone. It would help slow the spread of flames to other houses and give the men a chance to put out the fire. They could hear the men shouting orders for more water while others screamed in fear.
“We’ll have to go around the alley,” Elizabeth said, her voice raw from the smoke.
“Let’s go,” he said in agreement.
Johnny wrapped his small arms around his neck while they charged through the thick smoke that poured into the alley. Water thrown on the neighboring roofs to prevent the fire from spreading dripped down on them. The cool water felt good on their overheated, ash covered skin.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand, afraid she’d lose them in the smoke. She tugged none-too-gently to get them onto the street where they both collapsed in coughing fits. Their lungs cramped under the demand for fresh air.
“Over here!” a man yelled.
Strong hands suddenly clasped Elizabeth by her arms and hauled her up. In seconds she was cradled in someone’s strong arms. She looked up expecting to see her father. Instead she was looking at Robert’s soot covered face. She watched a muscle pulse in his jaw as he stared down at her.
“Come on, we need to get you out of here,” he said hoarsely.
“Where’s Johnny?” she asked, close to panicking when she didn’t spot the little boy. Had they lost the boy in the smoke?
“Calm down. He’s okay. His grandmother tore him from my arms before I hit the cobblestone.”
“We need more men! More men!” someone screamed.
They looked over to see wide gaps in the water bucket line. Without a word, she squirmed out of his arms and ran to fill the gap at the front of the line. “Elizabeth!”
She ignored him. As soon as she found a spot she jumped into the rhythm of passing the water buckets to the first man on the ladder and taking the empty buckets out of his hand and passing them back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Robert jump into the line. He worked hard and fast, but kept his eyes on her. Her father and James were further down in the line, already soaked to the bone. The women in their party were gone along with her family’s carriage. It was for the best. They were completely useless standing around swooning.
Several women, maids mostly, from other households, joined the line upon seeing her. Soon the water was moving faster. Her arms and back were suffering under the constant strain, but she pushed on. She never asked anyone to relieve her and never slowed down. The houses were mostly made of stone and a good distance apart, but if they didn’t get this fire out, there would be nothing to stop the fire from spreading from rooftop to rooftop until it found a wooden building. Then there would be big trouble.
Seven hours later the fire had consumed everything that it could. Men were forming lines into the house and putting out smaller fires. They were very fortunate that the fire hadn’t spread. The house was in complete ruins, but other than a few burns, no one was seriously injured.
Elizabeth and the four men completely covered from head to toe in wet soot traveled by Lord Bradford’s carriage to Bethany House, her family’s London seat. No one was surprised to find the parlor full of curious women. They nodded politely, but didn’t answer any questions. They were hungry, tired and sore. All Robert wanted at that moment was a hot bath, a warm bed and perhaps a warm body to hold. His gaze shot to Elizabeth the same time that hers shot to his. They held the gaze until one of the men cleared his throat.
“I’ve had rooms set up for you and hot baths should be awaiting all of us,” Lord Norwood said, his voice was as scratchy as theirs. “I’ll have meals brought up. Get some rest and then later we’ll sit down and figure out some things.” His attention shifted to Elizabeth. She swallowed nervously and stepped back into James, who steadied her by cupping her elbow with his hand.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
She nodded.
“Thank you for your help, Elizabeth. I don’t think we would have put the fire out as quickly or would have been this fortunate not to lose anyone in the fire if the women hadn’t joined,” James said sincerely.
“Y-you’re welcome,” she said, a bit embarrassed by all the attention.
“I would have to agree. Thank you, my dear,” Lord Bradford said, bowing to her.
Robert didn’t speak. His eyes dropped to where James held her elbow before he turned around and gestured for a footman to show him to his room.
Her father looked both proud and upset. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. It’s not good for an old man’s heart to see his youngest daughter run into a burning building.”
“Sorry, Papa,” she mumbled as he kissed her forehead.
“Run along and get cleaned up.”
“Yes, Papa.” She forced a smile and made her way upstairs. A nice warm bed sounded so good. A nice warm strong body to curl up with sounded better. She looked towards the guest wing and sighed. That would have been very nice indeed.
Chapter 11
“Good morning, Lady Elizabeth,” he heard a footman say in greeting to the woman that hadn’t left his thoughts since the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the orangery.
He paused mid-chew, wondering if he should do them both a favor and sneak out the servants’ door and leave for the day, but the maid carrying in a fresh platter of eggs took the decision out of his hands.
With a putout sigh, he got to his feet and picked up two of his empty plates and headed for the sideboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth enter the breakfast room, come to an abrupt halt when she spotted him, take an anxious step back before a look of determination took over her features and she forced herself to walk into the room. So, she wasn’t a coward, he thought with a spark of admiration, that was good to know.
Because he just couldn’t help himself, he took his time loading both plates with food. He ignored the rather adorable homicidal glare that she was sending his way as she stood to the side of him, holding an empty plate as she waited for him to get the hell out of the way. When she started to tap her foot impatiently, he decided that perhaps he should add a third plate now, to save time later and to annoy the little brat. He took his time making his selections, wondering just how far he would be able to push her before she started screaming at him or threw her plate at his head, but to his surprise she didn’t say a word while he made her wait.
Feeling slightly disappointed, he picked up his plates, careful not to drop a single delicious morsel, and carried them back to his seat at the table. As he ate, he watched her make her selections, wondering if she was going to leave the room entirely or sit at the far end of the table to get away from him. She did neither, surprising him once again.
“Couldn’t stand to be away from me?” he asked when she sat down across from him, because apparently he was an idiot. He should be avoiding this woman and figuring out a way to convince his mother that he needed to leave before he did something foolish like throttle the woman sitting across from him or bend her over the table, lift up the skirts of her light pink dress and relieve the ache between his legs that was now making itself known.
Instead of answering him, she simply sat there eating quietly as she pretended as though she hadn’t heard him. He wasn’t sure why that pissed him off, but it did. Given their history it would probably be for the best if they ignored each other, but he really wanted to get a reaction out of her. He really loved it when she reacted, he thought, remembering last night when she’d been beneath him, fingernails digging into his back as he slid in and out of her incredibly tight sheath.
With a muttered curse, he focused his attention back on his food as he shifted in his chair to try and adjust his already too tight pants. Lusting after the pain in the ass wasn’t going to help him. She’d ruined his life and he’d be smart to remember that, no matter how good she’d felt in his arms.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” his brother said as he walked into the room, sounding genuinely pleased and drawing Robert’s glare.
The betraying bastard, he thought, as he watched his brother walk over to Elizabeth, who was smiling up at the bastard, and press a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Good morning, James,” she said, smiling and not pissing him off.
Not. At. All.
When his brother reluctantly stepped away from Elizabeth to fill a plate at the sideboard, Robert’s eyes narrowed on him, taking in the well-fitted jacket and pants that fit him to perfection and then down to the borrowed clothes that he now wore and hated. They were too small, too tight and, unfortunately, too short. He looked ridiculous while his brother looked every inch the lord that he was.
All of their clothes had been ruined in the fire and the clothes that they’d worn last night had been unsalvageable. This morning he had been faced with the choice of wearing the borrowed clothes from God only knew or staying in his room wearing his drawers until some new clothes could be made and delivered to him. He should have stayed in his room, he realized with an annoyed grunt as he returned his attention back to his food.
“What are your plans for this morning?” James asked.
“Work,” he grunted, not bothering to look up from his food as he answered the bastard.
“I was talking to Elizabeth,” his brother drawled, reminding Robert that the dumb bastard was infatuated with the little pain in the ass.
Elizabeth cleared her throat before she answered. “I thought I’d go for a walk in the park since it’s such a beautiful day.”
“It’s far too cold for a walk,” his brother explained with a light chastising tone. “Why don’t I take you for a ride this afternoon in my carriage instead?”
Ah, so the courting was already beginning, Robert realized with dread, his appetite suddenly gone. Somehow he forced himself to sit there and shovel another forkful of food into his mouth as he waited for her answer.
“That sounds lovely, James. Thank you,” Elizabeth said politely, sounding pleased and forcing him to abruptly stand, knocking his chair to the floor in the process, and walk out of the room before he did something that he might truly regret.
---
“It’s very cold, m’lady,” Jane complained once again through chattering teeth.
“It will feel warmer after a few minutes,” Elizabeth said absently, sending her maid a reassuring smile as she quickened her pace, needing the fresh air and peace that walking provided her.
In truth, it was quite a bit colder than it had been yesterday. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but unfortunately it was also cold enough to form icicles on pretty much everything. When she’d stepped outside ten minutes ago and was hit with a blast of cold air, she’d considered going inside and spending the day by the fire with a good book, but after seeing Robert this morning, she needed to clear her head.
This morning she’d forced herself to get dressed after a restless night spent pacing her bedroom despite her exhaustion and went downstairs, hoping to use the late night to her advantage and break her fast alone before she secluded herself in the library for the day. She would have never left the safety of her room if she had known what waited for her in the breakfast room.
When she saw him standing there, filling his plate with an insane amount of food, wearing a ridiculous suit that was too small for him, she’d felt her heart skip a beat and had an overwhelming urge to walk up to him, wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. Knowing that he wouldn’t welcome her touch had felt a thousand times worse than when James had stepped out of her life and broken her young heart.
She’d wanted nothing more than to run up to her room, throw something and perhaps cry into her pillow as she bemoaned the unfairness of her situation, but she’d forced herself to walk into that room and pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. After reminding herself that she was dealing with Robert Bradford, the horrid boy that had once filled her bureau drawers with snakes, she was able to act like his presence didn’t bother her.
But it did.
She was torn between kicking him or kissing him, neither one a very good option if she wanted to convince her father to allow her to leave London on her own.
“M’lady?” Jane said through clattering teeth.
“I’m sorry, Jane,” she said, forcing her thoughts away from Robert. “Here,” she said, removing her shawl from around her shoulders and holding it out to her maid.
Jane eyed the shawl with longing, but her training kept her from accepting even though her lips were starting to turn an interesting shade of purple. “No, thank you, m’lady,” she mumbled, forcing herself to look away.
With a muttered curse about the ridiculousness of propriety, Elizabeth stepped behind the trembling woman and wrapped the shawl around her shoulders before she stepped away and continued walking at a quick pace, needing the exercise.
“Thank you, m’lady,” Jane mumbled, gripping the shawl tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to keep up with Elizabeth.
“You’re welcome,” Elizabeth said, looking over her shoulder to give the other woman an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that you had to come out with me in this cold.”
“It’s no trouble, m’lady,” Jane dutifully said when they both knew that the woman would rather be doing just about anything else.
Jane hated going for walks, which was why Elizabeth never asked for her company when they resided in the country. Out there the protection of a servant wasn’t needed. She could spend her days walking her father’s land freely without worry, but in London she was required to have a servant with her anytime she ventured away from the house without the protection of a relative. It was a ridiculous rule, one she’d argued about with her father every season, but one that she couldn’t seem to get out of.
Five minutes later she was regretting giving up her warm shawl as the cold finally managed to seep into her bones, making it painful to walk or breathe for that matter. Oh, why hadn’t she stayed home and waited for James to take her for a ride later? Because, she was stubborn and foolish, she decided as a violent shiver tore through her body, making her grind her teeth against the cold assault.
“What the hell are you doing out in this cold?” Robert snapped, startling her just as something rather warm was wrapped around her shoulders.
She looked down to find herself wrapped in a thick wool coat. Before she could argue, which she desperately wanted to do on principle alone, Robert was standing in front of her, giving her no choice but to stop walking as he finished pulling the coat around her and fastened the buttons.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied even as she gripped the inside of the coat to pull it more tightly around herself.
“Then why are your lips blue?” he asked softly as he gazed down at her.
“They’re not blue,” she argued, feeling herself tremble from something other than the cold as he reached up and gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Why didn’t you wait for my brother?” he asked as he gently rubbed the back of his knuckles along her cheek.
Because she didn’t want to be courted by James, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. Instead she thanked him for the use of his jacket and moved to step around him, but he wasn’t having that. He-
“Put me down!” she gasped as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, turned around and started walking back the way they’d came.
“Just as soon as we reach your house so that your father can spank some sense into you,” he said, wrapping a rather large arm around her legs when she tried to kick her way to freedom.
“Put me down this instant, Robert!” she snapped, punching his bottom to emphasize her demand.
“I really shouldn’t be surprised,” he mused to himself, clearly uncaring that she was currently trying to fight her way to freedom.
“Sir?” Jane said, sounding unsure.
“Help get me down!” Elizabeth pleaded as she shifted so that she could send the maid an imploring look that was promptly ignored as the maid took in Robert’s size and determination. Noticeably swallowing, Jane shook her head, faltered back a step and focused all of her attention on the ground ahead of her.
“Traitor,” she muttered although she couldn’t really blame the woman.
“To be honest,” Robert went on, “I thought by now that your father would have you locked up.”
“I hate you!” she snapped, punching his bottom. If her attack hurt, it didn’t show.
“Hopefully, your husband will have more sense and will keep you locked up. Maybe in a convent where the sisters could beat some sense into you.”
“Robert Bradford, you put me down this instant!” she demanded, glad that the park was practically empty and other than a few street vendors trying to sell their wares, there was no one to witness her humiliation.
“Sure thing,” he said, quickening his pace, but he didn’t put her down. Instead, he forced her to grab onto the back of the thin lawn shirt that he wore to stop herself from bouncing all over the place.
A few minutes later, she was forced to tighten her hold on his shirt as he jogged up the stone steps to her father’s house. When she saw the freshly polished foyer floor, she sighed with relief, but it was short lived.
“You said that you’d put me down as soon as we reached the house,” she reminded him as she tried to wiggle out of his grip.
“I was planning on it until a thought occurred to me,” he said, sounding amused and instantly putting her on guard.
She was almost too afraid to ask, “What are you talking about?”
“Since your father is probably still in bed, you’ll have to wait until later for that spanking that you desperately need,” he said, walking down what appeared to be the back hallway. “Since we can’t have you running around and catching your death, I’m afraid that I have no choice but to lock you up for your own good,” he said on a longsuffering sigh that didn’t exactly match his tone.
“Don’t. You. Dare,” she bit out, trying not to panic and failing miserably.
“I wish that I had a choice, Beth. Truly I do, but I’m afraid that you’ve left me with no choice,” he said, chuckling as her ears registered the sounds of the click of a lock and a door opening.
“I’m not kidding, Robert!”
“Now, you just sit in here for a while and I’m sure that someone will eventually let you out,” he said as he quickly placed her on her unsteady legs.
Before she could push past him or demand her release, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her stunned lips. It took her a few seconds before she realized that he’d shut the door, leaving her standing there looking foolish. The click of the lock brought her to her senses. She grabbed for the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it was good and locked.
A moment later, she realized that he’d locked her in the old music room. It was located in the back of the house and hadn’t been used in years since no one in the house played an instrument. It was also far enough away from the rest of the house that no one would be able to hear her cries for help, she realized with a growl.
“You bastard!” she yelled, uncaring that the declaration was unladylike as she kicked the door. “You’ll pay for this!”
