The Solemn Bell(24)

After tossing and turning for a moment, she finally found a comfortable spot on her back. She fluffed the pillow behind her head. It was all so obnoxiously adorable that Brody had to bite back a smile. If she had not betrayed him, every night together could be like this.

“Are you coming in?” she asked him, her eyes staring past the low, beamed ceiling overhead. After all, it was a double bed. Far larger than her pitiful pallet on the kitchen floor back home. Plenty of room for two.

If Brody went to her, he’d want to put his arms around her. He’d been careful with her before, choosing to cuddle her rather than grope. She’d been an innocent then. Now—well and truly stripped of her virginity—she was fair game.

And also wholly depended on him for everything. He was no saint, but Brody drew the line at preying upon those not in a position to say no.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





There were sounds. So many sounds. Strangers’ voices. Singing birds. Barking dogs. Motorcar horns. Laughter, and shouting. Neighbors greeting one another in the street. Angelica had almost forgot the noise of the world. She lay in bed, the covers snug and warm around her, and simply listened.

Last night, she’d been too miserable to be curious. She’d been terrified. Captain Neill’s anger—his warnings of impending rape and possible sexual enslavement—had weakened her resolve, bending her to his will. But he had kidnapped her, really. Stolen her from home, and dragged her across the countryside in the dead of night.

Now, even though she awoke in a strange place, she was afraid no longer. Angelica knew he would protect her. Despite his anger, he’d never allow her to come to harm. Captain Neill was a good man. Good men did not hurt women.

Good men did not let women hurt themselves.

Angelica realized what she had done. In desperation, she’d spread herself for the first man who would have her. Although she’d never admit it, she would spread herself for any man who would have her, mistaking the need for love with the need for…what?

Oh, she enjoyed sex, but it was companionship she craved. For a few breathless moments, someone held her. Kissed her. The fact that her lover had only wanted to empty himself inside her was inconsequential. A small price to pay for his undivided attention.

Captain Neill, however, had wanted to marry her. She had been too naive to understand before, but he’d refused her body that fated night because he had loved her. Because he had respected her enough to wait.

They could have had a wedding, and, afterwards, he might have brought her to this very inn. He would have made love to her in a bed, with care and tender concern. Not hunched over a gritty worktop, trousers ‘round his ankles.

Angelica’s first time could have been beautiful. Instead, she’d sacrificed her happiness for a few heated exchanges with a man who did not know her name.

Captain Neill would not have her now.

He stirred in his armchair by the fire. The rhythm of his breathing told her he was awake. Perhaps he was even watching her.

“Brody…”

He yawned. “I’m here.”

“What time is it?” Surely, by the sounds of the city outside, it had to be mid-morning.

There was a pause while he checked his watch. “Half nine.”

Angelica had not slept that late in years. She must truly have been exhausted. She wondered what kind of schedule he kept. Was this hour early to him, or had he been up since dawn?

“You could not have been comfortable sleeping in that chair,” she said, pulling herself up against the pillows. She was careful to keep the bedsheets over her bosom—more for the sake of his sensibilities than hers. “Thank you for giving me the bed.”

Wordlessly, Captain Neill shoved his feet into his boots. The cushioned chair creaked as he rose to stand before her. “I didn’t sleep much. I’ve been too busy thinking about our predicament. I think I’ve reached a solution, though it’s temporary and sketchy, at best.”

“Do tell.”

He paced the narrow room. Nervous. Uncomfortable in her presence. “The most obvious answer would be to put you up somewhere. Here, perhaps. There’d be a cook to feed you, and maids to clean for you. You’d be safe, and I’d pay to make sure you were properly looked after…”

Angelica’s heart caught in her throat. He was going to leave her again.

“…Except, I don’t trust you to behave yourself. You’d cock up my plan by bringing a man up here—some stranger passing through, who you might’ve met downstairs in the restaurant. I refuse to spend my money so you can have a more convenient place to slake your lust.”

He was right. She would get lonely without him. She would become desperate yet again. “Visit me, then. Let me be your…your mistress. I won’t need other men as long as I have you.”

“Truth is, I find that thought distasteful. And, if you’ve been up to as much mischief as you’ve led me to believe, I’m sure you’re pregnant.”

She hugged the covers around her like a shield. How could he say such hurtful things to her? “I believe the fever that took my eyesight also robbed me of my ability to conceive—God’s way of protecting those of us who aren’t fit for procreation.”

“Let’s hope so. All the same, I’d rather wait until you bleed to discuss further arrangements.”