“Much. They didn’t hurt you?”
“Nothing like you.”
“I should hope not. What did he do?” With a sigh, she pulled back the edge of the frilly thing around her neck. Four perfect fingers and a thumb lined her throat in shades of purple and black. Impotent rage filled me.
“Don’t growl—at least not in this context.” It took a few seconds to parse her meaning, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Didn’t realize I had.”
“Yes, well. I’m perfectly fine. Except for worrying over you to death, I’m the picture of health.”
“That you are. Speaking of… Why are you worrying after me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
I swallowed. “Only, I thought you were using me. That you couldn’t love me. Don’t think most people worry over folks they’re using and can’t love.” It hurt to repeat the words she’d said, to shove them past the knot in my throat that had nothing to do with my stomach or ribs or head.
“Oh, William. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it. I swear. I didn’t mean a word of it! I could never.” Her eyes filled with tears amid the incoherent declarations.
“Then, why?” It came out an accusatory croak, more emotional than I wanted.
“She warned me. She found me and she warned me that he knew what I was doing. What we were doing. She said he would kill you if I kept searching. And I knew… I knew you would never stop. You’re too stubborn and don’t care a lick for yourself. But I couldn’t. I… It would have killed me. I never would have recovered from it. I may not recover now, and you’re still here.
“But I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was lies, all of it.I love you!I do. I love you so much. Please, you have to believe me. I know you don’t. I’ve given you no reason to. But I will. You’re never going to doubt it. I swear.”
My heart lurched, freezing for a moment before sprinting to some unknown destination. Some future where she loved me and I loved her and we were together, in love, forever.
“I caught maybe a third of that, love. Head wound… remember?” It was true, but I caught the essential part. The part where she said she loved me.
“Oh, Lord. I’m sorry. This was too much. I’m here shouting at you…”
“’S all right, love. Think I got the important bits. Maybe we can go over the rest tomorrow?”
“Right, yes. Of course. I’ll just leave you to rest.”
“Love, is there any world in which you think I’m letting you out that door tonight?”
“No?” she asked, cautious optimism in her tone.
I made a half-hearted effort to shift over, and she climbed back up into her spot and curled along my side.
She whispered, “I love you,” once more before I fell asleep again.
Forty-Two
CADIEUX HOUSE, LONDON - JUNE 30, 1816
CELINE
The familiar,comforting sensation of fingers running through my hair breached my nightmare. The scent of citrus and William andhomecame second, soothing my racing heart. My hand rose and fell on his shirt-clad chest with each shallow breath—his ribs still plagued him then. He hummed some wordless tune low in his chest, probably some bawdy soldier’s tune for all that I recognized.
“Know you’re awake, love.”
With a dramatic sigh, I abandoned my feigned sleep. He was a beautiful sight. Bruised and battered, eye swollen nearly shut, my beloved cheekbone blackened beyond recognition, but he was alive. So alive. His working eye was clearer this morning, less hazed with pain. Today it was the color I imagined the sea to be on a sunny day in autumn, little sparkles dancing off the surface when the sun hit the waves. Oh, and there was my beloved, adoring crinkle, restored to its former glory.
“You all right? Sounded like you were having a bad dream.”
“I am now.”
