“I’m sorry.”
When she would have removed her hand, he held it in place. “It’s all right. Now the other.”
Doing as he bade, she thought the hottest of fires would not have thawed her so completely, nor would they have felt so welcoming.
“Better?” he asked quietly, and she did little more than nod. “Good.”
He returned to rubbing her back, and her body grew warm, lethargic. She sank against him but her mind raced like it was a runaway mare desperate to escape the horrors that had befallen it. “If he sired me”—horrific images bombarded her—“I can’t imagine that my mother loved him, that she would have welcomed him into her bed. He was so vile, so nasty.”
“Perhaps he was a very different fellow when he was younger.”
“Can one change that drastically in twenty years? He said she needed to keep a roof over her head. Why did she turn to him for help? What did he require of her?”
“Sweetheart, don’t torment yourself with questions. Everything he said could have been a lie.”
“Yet it contained a spark of truth.” Her fingers had lost their chilling edge, so she slid her hands around his sides to his back, holding him close. “I can’t bear the thought of what she might have endured at his hand.”
“They can’t bring charges against him for what he did so long ago, but I’ll see to it that the magistrate knows and that his past actions be taken into account when sentenced.”
“I supposed I’ll have to testify—”
“I’ll do it. No reason for you to even go to the trial. My word will suffice.”
“But I’m the one he attacked.”
“I saw it happen and can serve as a witness. You’ve lamented how the law treats women unfairly. The courts do the same. I don’t condone the reality of it, but a man’s testimony will hold more sway than a woman’s. Trust me, sweetheart, the blighter will never bother you again. I’ll ensure it, one way or another.”
He sounded so confident, so in command, so certain he could bring about the outcome she desired. She wouldn’t mind not seeing Dibble again, and yet she had a responsibility to ensure he never bothered her again. But she wasn’t in the mood to argue about it at the moment. She would do what needed to be done when the time arrived. “How did you know to come?”
“As you’re aware, I tend to look across at your window before retiring. I noted the back door ajar, pale light spilling out into the mews. I knew you’d closed it after I left. I wanted to reassure myself nothing was amiss.”
“I was surprised by how quickly and efficiently you dispatched him.”
“I’ve done a bit of boxing for sport, among friends. Some are more competitive than others.”
She would enjoy watching him box, but then she took delight in watching him breathe. “I’m warmer now, if you want to leave.”
“I’d rather stay.”
The relief overwhelmed her, and she snuggled more closely against him. She’d always known dangers existed in the world, but until tonight none had ever touched her.
Chapter 20
To Fancy’s surprise, within Matthew’s arms, she’d slept. He’d stayed until dawn and then slipped out the back. No one seemed to be about, so her reputation was safe.
But as she traveled in the coach, her mind filled with the images of the horrid man who’d come to her door. His black teeth, his black, black eyes. While she knew she could have gone to Mick for help, for reassurance, for some unfathomable reason, she’d wanted Matthew. Not only because he required no explanation regarding what had happened but the comfort that he’d provided had seemed so much more intimate than what her brother would have given. Oh, certainly Mick would have held her and murmured words of reassurances, would have meant all he said and did, but she didn’t know if he could have gently begun piecing back together her heart.
She should have been stronger, shouldn’t have allowed it to shatter so easily by what might be false words. But what was broken, when repaired, became stronger.
At least that was the mantra running through her mind as she stepped out of the carriage, with the assistance of the footman. When Fancy stepped inside, her mum sang from the kitchen, “I’ve just put the kettle on.”
This woman she loved so very much wandered into the living room and staggered to a stop. “Oh, my dear girl, whatever has happened?”
Fancy felt the tears forming and was powerless to hold them back as her mum’s arms came firmly around her. “Mum, please tell me it’s not true. Please.”
Her mum went very, very still, so still Fancy wasn’t even certain she continued to breathe. Or perhaps she simply couldn’t because her daughter was holding her so tightly.
“What are you talking about, love?”
