All About Seduction(95)
Perhaps tonight they could work on his reading, but she needed the other to get a baby. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. Part of her wanted to engage in intimacy, though she’d always found it repulsive before. It was different with Jack. He seemed to want more than the physical, and didn’t want his pleasure to come at her expense. She had disappointed him, but she didn’t know if she could ever fully desire a man. A part of her wanted to try. For him she wanted to try.
She swiveled toward him. Lines of weariness and pain were etched into his face. He swung the crutches forward and took a careful step. His arms quivered as they bore his weight. He must be exhausted and had likely overtaxed his weakened body.
Chagrin made her shoulders drop. He didn’t need anger from her. He couldn’t know the news of Whitton’s murder and her suspicions, fears, downright terror that he’d fallen victim to Mr. Broadhurst’s ire. The burlap sack anchored to his back told of a man getting his things, not a man running away. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her fingers.
“We need to get you to bed,” she said softly. Only his bed likely wasn’t ready yet.
“Yes.” He planted the crutches and leaned forward onto them. Slowly, he twisted to look at her.
For a reason beyond her ken, his look called to mind the night before, and her cheeks fired and her body tingled. All her thoughts scattered. For the first time in her life she was looking forward to the night’s activities.
She was turning into a wicked adulteress. She tried to tell herself it was just that she was eager to have a family, a baby, but even she didn’t believe that. She wanted to be with Jack and be done with all the gentlemen in her house. And she sure didn’t want to be anywhere near Mr. Broadhurst during the night.
Jack thought he might fall over at any minute. His good leg protested the exertion. A week ago he’d walked over fifteen miles in a day with little ill effect, and today he couldn’t manage a couple of miles. But there it was.
His underarms stung where the crutches rubbed. His shoulders and arms were rubbery with fatigue. Worst of all it felt as if a knife had lodged in his lower back and twisted with each step he took. And the heavy cast chafed his foot. He was fairly certain every movement would be the last he could manage.
Caroline stood beside him, looking angry and hurt and all kinds of things that didn’t make sense coupled with her efforts to keep him at arm’s length. But women never made a lot of sense when they had their dander up.
She also looked refined, elegant, and so beautiful his breath caught. The way her hair gleamed, clean and shiny, the long curl caressing parts of her neck and cleavage he was forbidden to touch, made his heart beat a little faster. Her skin was so pale he could see a tracing of blue veins under it. Blue blood ran in those veins. Yet, he, a red-blooded worker, was being given the opportunity to create a child with her. He wanted the tie to her, a blood connection that could never be broken.
He could tell himself it was for all the advantages that could be wrought by having a member of a noble family willing to patronize him. He doubted she would let him starve, if it ever came to that. And she might open doors for him. That alone might be worth having a child he could never claim.
But it wasn’t that. Besides, the tie might forever be secret. No, he wanted her bound to him forever, and he didn’t even understand why. Something deep in his soul was drawn to the way she bore up under the strain of being married to a man who didn’t deserve her. Yet, she wanted to provide the opportunity for anyone who wanted to be successful like her husband.
God, if she only wanted him a tenth as much as he wanted her, he could . . . Nothing. He could give her nothing that a man wants to give a woman he cares about. He couldn’t give her the world or provide for her in any meaningful way. The best he could do was give her a child.
Jack took another step, because he didn’t want her to witness him failing. He didn’t want to fail at one more thing today, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to make it up the stairs that loomed in front of him.
“Let me take your sack.”
He was too tired to protest. He let her untuck it from his braces. Each time her hands brushed him, he wanted to beg her to just hold onto him, but he held back the words. She already saw him as inferior; he didn’t want her to think of him as weak too.
“Would you like me to fetch the footmen to assist you up the stairs?”
“No. I can do it.” He would make it up the stairs, inside, and collapse in his bed until midnight. By then he hoped he would feel well enough to provide stud service to Caroline.