Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(57)

Celia discovered that she was almost too nervous to speak. “Sh-she is going to stay with the children upstairs.”

His large hand slid over her trembling one. “Relax,” he muttered.

“I cannot pretend that you are Philippe,” she said, jumping as she heard the sound of the front door opening.

Justin took her jaw in his hand, turning her face toward him. Suddenly all his own annoyance and jealousy disappeared in a surge of concern for her. It was unsettling. Completely unlike him. He didn’t want to cause her pain, not even if it meant sacrificing his own neck. “Then don’t,” he whispered. “Not if it hurts you. It isn’t worth it.”

Her eyes were round with wonder as she saw that he meant it. “You’re mad,” she said faintly. “Of course your life is worth it. I will help you.” She heard someone walking to the doorway of the parlor. Before Justin could say anything else, she lifted her hand to his newly shorn hair, smoothing the dark, silky strands back from his face. The gesture was tender and possessive, the gesture a wife might make to her husband. Justin caught his breath, color creeping up to his cheekbones.

Lieutenant Benedict walked further into the room, staring at the pair in a transfixed manner. Justin looked up and smiled slightly, his blue eyes gleaming. He extended his hand in greeting. “Peter. It is good to see you again.”

Benedict took the proffered hand, clasping it firmly. “Philippe?” He sounded slightly out of breath.

“Forgive me for not being available to you before now. As you’ve discovered, the Vallerands are quite protective of their own.” Justin pulled Celia closer against his warm side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thanks to my wife’s expert nursing, I expect to be fully recovered soon.”

Celia smiled and gestured for the lieutenant to sit in a nearby chair, and he complied quickly.

“I heard you had been blinded,” Benedict said, staring at Justin closely.

“We removed the bandages from his eyes last night,” Celia answered for him. She gave a soft laugh. “Actually, Philippe took them off himself before we could stop him. The saying is true—doctors do indeed make the worst patients.” She threw Justin a glance of wifely concern. “As you can see from the redness, Lieutenant, his eyes are still not completely healed. And he is prone to headaches.”

Benedict shook his head slowly. “My God, Philippe,” he said, his voice changing. “The chances of surviving a pirate attack…being captured…the escape…The story is incredible.”

“Yes, I know,” Justin said ruefully. “It is incredible.” A glint of mischief entered his gaze. “I hear it has led you to entertain doubts about my identity.”

Benedict had the grace to look embarrassed. “I must do my job, Philippe. And your brother is known to be a dangerous outlaw. Until I saw you for myself I could not be certain what was going on.”

“I don’t know how dangerous my brother may or may not be,” Justin said with boyish frankness, and smiled. “But it would be bad for my practice, Peter, were people to suspect me of being a pirate. I am trained to wield a scalpel, not a cutlass.”

“Philippe, I must ask you some questions. I hope you will be able to furnish the Navy Department with information about these brigands. Is it true you were held captive on Crow’s Island for the past four months?”

“Yes.” Justin frowned and rubbed his forehead.

“Were there any others taken beside you?”

“No, I was the only one.”

“Can you tell me why they chose to spare you?”

“I believe it was because of my medical knowledge. There are no doctors on Isle au Corneille.”

“Obviously you were well-treated,” Benedict remarked, regarding Justin skeptically. Celia had to admit that Justin did not look like a man who had been held captive for several months. In spite of a touch of sickroom pallor, his skin was still darkly tanned. Were it not for his wounds, his body would have been in superb condition. “Can you describe the island to me, and how it was fortified? And how you escaped, of course.”

“There seem to be some gaps in my memory,” Justin said, lacing his fingers with Celia’s and drawing her hand to his thigh. “I will tell you all I can. I don’t know how much of it will be useful.”

Celia listened with admiration as Justin answered the questions with a minimum of detail, giving just enough information to make his story plausible. He told of being held on the island, described the fort and its maze of passageways both above and beneath the ground, related how he had bribed some of the pirates to help him, and discussed the battle that had ensued during his escape. Benedict required him to repeat several parts of the tale, obviously searching for inconsistencies, but Justin did not betray himself. After a half-hour had passed, Max interrupted the questioning by clearing his throat.

“Lieutenant Benedict,” Max said, “It is obvious that my son is beginning to tire. I am certain you would not wish to deplete what little strength he has left.”

“No, of course not,” Benedict replied reluctantly.

Celia leaned over Justin worriedly. He was white underneath his tan, and there were dots of sweat on his forehead. The furrows between his thick eyebrows betrayed his pain. She blotted his forehead with the handkerchief. “Another headache?” she asked.