All About Seduction(20)

Surprised at her touch, his eyes popped open. She pulled her hand back, and the loss was almost like losing a part of him.

“I asked her to leave me be,” answered Jack. He hadn’t wanted to restrain his cries any longer. As it was, he’d groaned into the pillow until the medicine cut the pain.

“You shouldn’t be alone.” Her voice was soothing, but her eyes were wide and her face pinched.

“I’d rather.” He searched her expression, trying to understand the source of her anxiety.

“Were you trying to sit? Do you need more pillows?” Without waiting for his answer she exited to the hall. Shortly afterward she returned with two small cushions and stood with them as if waiting for him to lean forward.

He couldn’t. Just getting up on his elbows made his arms shake with the effort. He should just lie back down, but he was afraid if he moved his leg, he wouldn’t be able to restrain a groan.

Helpless, he stared and saw her as he never had before.

Instead of the tight bun she habitually wore, her hair was done in a loose knot with curls on her crown and one long curl caressing her neck. He would love to press his lips to every part the dark hair touched. “You look beautiful.”

A flush spread over her chest and up her cheeks.

He winced. He should look away, but he couldn’t deny himself the small pleasure of looking at her. The medicine had loosened his tongue, and it certainly wasn’t his place to comment on her looks. “Beg pardon, ma’am.”

“You’ve likely never seen me dressed for guests before.” Her voice trembled and her mouth tightened, as if the “guests” were distasteful to her. She pressed the two pillows against her chest as if they provided armor.

It wasn’t the dress. He’d long ago noticed Mrs. Broadhurst. When he sat in church he stared at her dark hair swirled above her swanlike neck. Every chance he could he watched her enter or leave the mill office. He’d admired her efforts to educate the children of the millworkers, although he knew it was for the most part futile. Like him, most of them did what their parents before them had done and became millworkers.

He liked the way she would ponder a piece of machinery and ask, Wouldn’t the chain be less likely to catch a worker’s clothes if a metal guard were here?

She cared about their safety and education, unlike her husband who cared about his bottom line. She perhaps thought that some might want to rise above the circumstances of their birth. He took hope from that idea because it fit with what he wanted to believe about himself. But it was more than that with her. The way she occasionally tilted her chin down and looked up through her lashes sent shivers down his spine.

“I should get back. But do you need anything?”

Her. “No, ma’am.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the door. Then her gaze returned to his face. “Do you want these pillows?”

He nodded and reached out for one, but feeling unable to move, he pulled it to his chest.

Her eyebrows briefly lowered. “Do you need help sitting up?”

How could she possibly see him as anything other than a weakling? Jack sighed. “Perhaps one of the men could help me.”

She leaned over him again and slid her arm behind his back. “Here, I can assist you.”

She helped him forward and stuffed the pillows behind his shoulders. He bit his lip at the wave of dizziness and grasped her shoulder. He wanted to enjoy the lovely sight in front of him, but pain blasted him. It was all he could do to not cry out.

She eased him back. “Oh, I’m hurting you.”

“It’s nothing,” he managed to say as he uncurled his fingers from around her shoulder. He’d gripped her hard enough to blanch her fair skin. Bruising her would be a crime. “Beg pardon, ma’am.”

“Think nothing of it.” She looked over him for a long time, and he tried hard to erase any pain from his face, but he doubted he succeeded.

“Did you have any supper?”

“I don’t believe I could eat, ma’am,” he gritted out. Sweat beaded his forehead. Even though his mouth felt stuffed with cotton, he’d barely been able to drink half the glass of water the maid had poured for him.

Mrs. Broadhurst’s eyes narrowed. “You need to eat to get your strength back. We had a lovely beef consommé for dinner. Would you like to try some?”

No. He’d like her to leave before he did something stupid like touch her creamy shoulder. “I don’t know what that is.”