All About Seduction(120)

“I have to get back, before I’m missed.” She didn’t move away, though. Instead she tucked her head under his chin and rested against his chest.

“Shhhh, just let me hold you a little while,” he whispered into her hair. “It seems as though I have been away from you for years, not weeks.”

She plucked at his shirt. “How did you get back? How did you pay for your trip if you didn’t have any more money than what I gave you?”

Damn, she was going to make him tell her everything. “I cleaned up a barroom.”

She leaned back and looked at him.

“I begged.” His voice cracked. He struggled for composure, looking at a chipped brick on the far wall. “Being a cripple is good for something. One man gave me a sovereign and it was enough to get me looked at by physicians at the Royal College and get me home.” Mostly. “They don’t think I’ll ever get back full use of my leg.”

He hadn’t meant to tell her that.

“Oh Jack.” She leaned into him and rubbed his shoulder. “They can’t know for certain.”

“I just thought a job—even a clerk job—was better than begging. When I get stronger—”

She put her fingers in front of his lips. “It’s all right. I’m glad you’re back. I’m glad you’re safe.” He could feel her pulling away, even as she shook her head. “I really have to get back.”

Letting her go was like cutting off a limb. He’d known this was temporary, that she’d have no use for him after he got her with child.

“I’m staying at the midwife’s house, if you need me,” he said.

Her forehead furled.

“It is the one place in town you could go without question,” he added by way of explanation. And he sure as hell wasn’t going back to his father’s house. Mrs. Goode hadn’t liked the idea either, but she had a spare bed—which he insisted he’d vacate if she had a patient, and sleep on the floor in the apothecary. He promised to man the counter when she was out delivering babies and pay her half his wages. He also told her he wouldn’t stay above a year.

Caroline’s eyes widened, but she backed away. “It’s over, Jack. I will always be fond of you, but I can’t be with you in that way ever again.”

He nodded. A lame clerk wasn’t ever going to be good enough for her. What was worse, he wanted to hate her, but he knew she was right. He’d spend the rest of his life just trying to keep his head above water. If he could keep this job, it would take him another ten years to save two hundred pounds. By then he’d be thirty-eight. It took time to see ideas into fruition. How much time would he have if he didn’t do something now?

They left the office. She went her way, he his.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Jack walked to the apothecary shop. He crossed through the store and into the back room, where he found his pack and his crutches.

“Where were you?” asked Mrs. Goode.

“I have to learn how to use this leg sometime,” he muttered.

Standing in the storeroom doorway, the midwife pushed back a strand of white hair.

Jack dug out the pewter mug he’d taken from the tavern, crutched to the back door, yanked it open, then pitched the stolen tankard into a refuse heap. So help him God, he would never steal or beg again. And he’d find a way to make something of his life, or he’d die trying.

In spite of Jack’s concern, Caroline ran most of the way home. Mr. Broadhurst was an intelligent man. She didn’t need him realizing she had gone walking on the first night Jack was back.

She was out of breath when she entered the drawing room, but the running didn’t account for the pain in her chest. Jack had asked for her belief in him, but she’d denied him that, just as she refused to admit her love for him. She didn’t care that he’d had to beg, except his admission drained the light from his eyes. That part she hated.

For his own safety, she had to break all her ties to him. She had to leave him thinking she had only used him and didn’t care for him. If only that were true, she might not feel as if she were only a shell around a hollow core.

“Where did you go, my dear?” asked Mr. Broadhurst.

His question might have sounded solicitous, but Caroline no longer took it at face value. “My stomach was upset, I thought a walk might soothe it.”

“Did it?”

Her stomach churned as she moved to pick up her sewing. She’d begun a layette for the baby. “For a bit. The cold helps.”