“That’s all I ask of you.”
Their gazes locked, held, and Jessie fought the urge to throw her arms about him, comfort him. There was so much pain evident in his deep blue eyes. “Christian... I—” Truly, she wanted to help—despite everything—but she just didn’t know how. She shook her head, not in negation, but in regret. And then anger flooded her once more, that he should put her in such a horrible predicament. She averted her gaze. “You should have abducted a physician in my stead! God’s truth, I know nothing of the healing arts!”
“You don’t understand,” Christian murmured low into her ear, and despite the gravity of the situation before them, a chill swept down her spine as his warm breath stirred her hair. “I—” His voice caught. “I had no choice, Jess.”
Jessie shivered. “Why not?” she asked, swallowing. She peered up at him. “Your fa—Jean Paul,” she amended hastily, furiously, glancing briefly about before speaking again. “He could die without a physician’s care—I don’t understand why you would risk that! Why?”
His blue eyes glinted strangely.
“Because,” he snapped. His jaw worked, and then suddenly his expression hardened. “Damn it, I simply cannot! Do what you can, or get the hell out of the way!”
Jessie worried her lower lip, torn between the desire to rail at him and the need to aid Ben and Jean Paul. She pretended an interest in Jean Paul’s frilly sleeve cuff, rubbing it absently between her fingertips. Lord help her, but outrage nearly won out. She dared not meet his gaze, lest he see the awful pain he’d once more managed to inflict upon her. She held her tongue, resigning finally to do all that she could, though it seemed insane not to procure medical aid from a knowledgeable physician. There was so much to lose.
“I’m certain you’ll at least do what you can for Ben,” he said, and his tone was almost an accusation.
Jessie met Ben’s sympathetic brown eyes over her shoulder. Her cousin seemed angered by Christian’s disregard of her, yet he said nothing. Out of deference? Loyalty? What?
Rising abruptly, Christian peered down at her, his fists clenched at his sides. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, his expression was shuttered; only his eyes revealed his pain. “Please, Jess...”
He couldn’t know what he was asking of her—what if she failed? She nodded, placing a hand to Jean Paul’s chest, taking comfort in his smooth, even breath.
Silence seemed to permeate the small cabin, and then suddenly Christian turned and walked away, his footsteps a hollow echo upon the planking.
How could he put her in such a dreadful position? How could he drag Ben into his sordid affairs—and yes, she was certain the blame for everything,everythingthat had transpired this night, fell to none other than Christian. Gritting her teeth, she set about the task of removing Jean Paul’s bloodied shirt.
“You love him don’t you, coz?”
Jessie shot Ben a wrathful glare. He was watching her intently, his knowing gaze as penetrating as Christian’s.
“As I love walking barefoot through snow,” she replied. But even as she spoke the words, her heart ached with the lie; she feared she did love the rotten knave.
Quincy reentered the room, lugging in a small black kettle filled with water and a handful of rags. The kettle, he set down before her, sloshing water onto the floor; the rags, he dropped beside her. “That’s it, mum.”
“Thank you,” she said woodenly.
The old man sighed wearily and stooped to speak softly to her. “I’ve seen worse, mum. He’s just all out from my removing the slug, is all. Ye watch an’ see iffen he don’t wake up soon.” He winked conspiratorially. “Now... his lordship, on the other hand...” His gaze locked with hers. “ ’Tis him what needs you, Miss Jessie.”
Jessie averted her gaze. “Thank you,” she murmured, flustered. For the first time, she thought to wonder how the old man knew her name.
How could he possibly think Christian needed her?
She listened to the protest of his bones as he stood with a groan and waited for his footsteps to fade as he left her, then she set out to do the best she was able, using the scalding water to cleanse both Ben’s and Jean Paul’s injuries. She ripped up the rags into small strips and bandaged their wounds, and later, once Ben had dozed and the water had cooled, she used it to sponge Jean Paul.
Only when her eyes began to droop did she leave off, curling beside Ben upon the floor. She lay there, with her head pillowed upon his chest, listening to the smooth, even rhythm of his breathing, and fell asleep just so.
18
Christian didn’t quite expect the sight that greeted him as he entered the cabin—should have, perhaps, but didn’t. Yet, it didn’t surprise him either. It did make his gut turn to see Jessie curled so familiarly beside her cousin upon the floor.
God’s teeth, at least she was still wearing her cloak, he told himself, though it had ridden up her leg along with her gown, exposing her for God’s and just about anyone’s eyes. He strode purposely toward them, muttering curses as he stooped to cover her with her cloak.
Unable to sleep, he’d come several times during the night; each time he’d found her awake, holding her damnable cousin’s hand, or gently sponging Jean Paul’s brow. And so he’d remained hidden in the shadows, observing unheeded, not trusting himself to remain in the same room with her. After a while, he’d not been able to bear even that, and he’d withdrawn to the solitude of his own cabin. Now he had to wonder over the wisdom of his decision.
It was obvious the woman was a dim-witted fool to be lying so near a half-nude, half-conscious man—cousin or not! Whatthe devil was wrong with her? Didn’t she realize what she could do to a man with aught more than her presence? Christian might have been dead as a doornail and would have still scented her beside him; hers was a siren’s perfume that called to his senses more keenly than he cared to admit.
God’s bones, she’d nursed her cousin so tenderly that he’d found himself wishing it were him lying there wounded instead... with her soft hand stroking his so lovingly. What ailed him that he would crave her touch so interminably? Even to such a degree?
Why had he felt compelled to seek her out last night, when somewhere within, he had to have known she couldn’t help him?
