“No, I’ll go to him,” Callum said. “I’ll take care of it.”
He gave Flora a soft smile before he slipped from the room. Her heart immediately began to pound as she watched him go, knowing that she had perhaps just begun a new chapter in the book of her life. And she hoped it would end well.
* * *
Roarke lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He ought to have been sleeping, he supposed, recovering from his injuries. God knew he felt them. His head still ached dully and the stitches on his gash itched. But it wasn’t those things that kept him from sleep.
No, it was thoughts of Flora. Her worry about his well-being, the way her hands flowed over his skin…her kiss. All he could think about was her kiss and what it meant. She said she was still angry—she deserved to be angry. But she still kissed him and his hope still soared.
There was a light knock on his door and he straightened a fraction, his heart leaping a the possibility that it could be her. “Come in,” he called out.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Flora. Callum stepped in and then leaned on the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. “You look a little better. Although those bruises are fairly horrific.”
Roarke reached up to touch his own face and winced. The way his eye felt, he was certain the bruising had extended lower than the bandage covering. Wonderful.
He forced a laugh. “If it helps, I also feel like shit.”
“Too shit to come to dinner?” Callum asked. “Because you’re invited.”
“By you?” Roarke asked, wincing when he lifted his eyebrows.
Callum shook his head slowly. “No. ByFlora.”
Roarke caught his breath at the revelation, but then he shut his eyes. “I came here with nothing but my horse and the clothes on my back. Not fit for a supper gathering even if they weren’t covered in blood and dirt and likely being cleaned by your poor staff at present.”
Callum shrugged. “You can use some of my clothing. It might be a bit ill-fitting, but I doubt anyone will care, least of all Flora. And my valet can help you dress. If, that is, you actually want to try.”
Roarke stared at him. Callum wasn’t talking about trying to get dressed or trying to join the party, that was clear. He was talking about trying with Flora. Trying for a future he didn’t deserve and couldn’t see a path to, even though he desperately wanted it and her.
And yet he couldn’t refuse the chance. Couldn’t turn away from the possibility.
“Of course I’ll try,” he said, pushing the covers away from his legs and gingerly coming down from the high bed. He gripped the edge as he tested his knees. Unlike earlier in the day, they no longer felt like jelly, so that was an improvement.
“Wonderful. My valet, Bledsoe, will be up shortly with a few things for you to wear.” Callum pivoted to go and then froze and turned back. “I wasn’t going to do this, but I think I must. Are you in love with her?”
Roarke lifted his gaze to his friend and clung to the edge of the bed even tighter because the question weakened his knees now, instead of his injury. He straightened his shoulders and then nodded. “Yes.”
Callum’s eyes widened, but Roarke didn’t let him respond. He continued, “But I’ve no expectations. I will make no demands.”
Callum stepped into the chamber and shut the door behind him. He ran one hand through his hair and then he said, “My road with Valaria wasn’t easy. I understand the desperation of perhaps never getting what you desire most. You do have a great deal to prove. If you want help, I’m here.”
“Why?” Roarke burst out without thinking, and then shook his head. “I ask because I’m surprised to hear you say that after everything that transpired.”
Callum let out his breath slowly. “I can see you were between a rock and a hard place when it came to this situation. And you made mistakes. However, I think a man is defined more by how he responds to his mistakes, isn’t he? And I see how she lights up when she speaks about you. Perhaps youbothdeserve a second chance."
The idea that Flora still lit up when he was a topic warmed Roarke to his toes and the longing that had flared when she kissed him burned a little brighter.
“I’ll send the valet and then go tell the ladies that you’ll join us shortly.”
“Thank you,” Roarke said softly as Callum left with a wave of his hand.
He moved to the mirror above the fireplace and winced as he saw his bruised face. Saw his own hesitations and fears reflected in his eyes. But no, he had to be resolute not uncertain, because this was likely his only chance. He had to make the most of it.
CHAPTER18
Flora was pacing the parlor, no longer capable of containing her nervousness as she awaited Roarke’s arrival. And then…he was there. He strode through the door and she pivoted, her breath gone as she looked at him in his fine clothes. They were Callum’s, but the lack of perfect fit didn’t matter one bit to her. She was still bowled over by how handsome he was.
And by how damaged. Although his head was still wrapped in the linen bandage, the bruising from the blow crept below the stark white. It was black and blue along his eyebrow and down the side and bottom of his left eye.
