In His Eyes(68)

Ella stared at the man she’d not too long ago called a devil. The gentle way he held the child and the soothing words he tried to speak to her stirred a longing in her she would do better to squelch. She straightened her shoulders. “Then I will be diligent in making sure he keeps taking the treatments, and I will try to be sure he eats as much as we can get him to take.”

Westley handed the baby back to her. “Ella, you are a good mother to this child. You took it upon yourself to care for him when I doubt anyone else would have.” He lifted his brows. “And I don’t know that I have ever seen a woman quite so protective. You are like a bear with her cubs.”

The unexpected thought made Ella chuckle, despite the gravity of the moment. “You think so?”

He smiled, making him even more handsome. “I do. Or perhaps still a dragon. I haven’t quite decided.”

Lee coughed again and Ella bounced him, but at least this time he didn’t spit anything up. After the fit eased, his eyes drifted closed. Ella followed Westley into the parlor where he propped his cane against the settee and settled his large frame.

“A dragon?” she asked as she laid Lee down into the cradle.

He chuckled. “Indeed. A tiny dragon with flaming hair and sharp claws.”

She knew he jested, but she frowned anyway. She did not mean to have sharp claws.

He must have sensed her thoughts, even though she kept her back to him.

“I did not mean to offend. I meant it as an endearment.”

How did he do that? Read the private things that swam in her head as though she’d spoken them aloud? It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Ella sat on the edge of the chair near the cradle and studied the man across from her. A dragon as a term of endearment? What a strange man. She wrinkled her nose and he chuckled again.

She turned her gaze to the window, and though she could feel his gaze heavy upon her, refused to meet his eyes.

He shifted, and she could feel him leaning closer. “Would you mind telling me something?”

Given their earlier conversations, she could hazard a guess as to what he wanted to know. She turned her gaze from the safety of the window and let it settle back on him. “You wish to know about how I came to be with Lee?”

Conflict shifted in his eyes as his gaze roamed her face. “I do.”

“Very well.” Ella told him of how she happened to be at Lee’s birthing, and the things that Cynthia told her about the Remingtons and their kindness. Westley nodded at several increments, but let her finish her tale before he sat back and considered her.

“So that is how you came to show up at the house with him.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Of all the things I speculated, that wasn’t one of them.”

Her brow furrowed. No, he’d seen her as a harlot. “Yes, and you already know what happened then. I claimed to be your….” Why did the word stick to the roof of her mouth?

“My wife,” he supplied.

Something about the way he said it made it seem like the title felt heavy on his tongue as well.

Ella cleared her throat. “Aye. That’s the truth of it. So now you know the whole of my pitiful tale.”

Westley cocked his head. “I doubt that. I would like to know how you came to be employed at that inn in the first place.”

Her mind scrambled. To begin that story would lead to the revelation of more secrets, and those she was not yet ready to share. She forced a laugh. “Nothing to tell there. I was trying to get to the North and ran out of money.”

He stroked his chin and watched her in that odd way he had that made her feel like he tried to see her soul. Try as she might, she couldn’t contain the shiver that the look sent down her spine.

“Are you cold?”

Mortified, she forced a nervous laugh. “No, sir. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat again. Why did it feel so clogged? She glanced at him, only to find the expression in his eyes even more potent. Perhaps a diversion would avert his ardent study of her face. “Major….”

“Westley.”

She inclined her head. “Major Westley….”

He laughed. “No, Ella. Just Westley, if you please. I believe I’ve already given you leave to call me by my given name, have I not?”

Her mouth went dry. Oh, no. This was not at all where she wanted to steer the conversation. Did he wish to discuss those private moments they never should have shared? “I, uh….”

He chuckled again. “Why, Mrs. Remington, your face has turned an alarming shade of red.”

Ella’s eyes widened, and she lurched to her feet. His laughter died and alarm replaced the mischief in his eyes. Her throat constricted. He shouldn’t tease her so. Not when hearing him call her such a thing made her ache somewhere deep in the forgotten places of her heart.

“Ella, I—”

She held up her hand. “Please, just don’t.” She gently lifted Lee from his place and held him close.

Westley rose and made a move toward her, but she shook her head. “I need to go.”

He set his jaw, the little muscle on the side of his face twitching. He gave a single nod as she gathered up what little dignity she could and hurried from the room.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stay here, dependent on Sibby with her secrets and lies and Major Remington with the way he stirred feelings in her that made her senses go awry. No doubt a man like him was used to charming the fine ladies with such words and gestures. They were probably all accustomed to such things, and the flattery did not unseat the elite the way it did Ella. But she was a simple girl, and she did not like the way her defenses had begun to crack around him.