Chelynne (37 page)

“Oh, trust you see my plight clearly!” she cried. “The man has not shared my bed, fool! What more proof is needed?” With a choked sob she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and again the tears crept out from pinched lids, trailing in painful streams down her cheeks. He drew her to him and held her, letting the pent-up emotion spend itself.

“As I hold you so near I wonder if there is some name I might put to you, other than this title you wear?”

She looked up at him. “Aye. Chelynne,” she whispered.

John tilted her tear-streaked face up to his and planted gentle kisses on it. She was soft and lovely and hurt, so vulnerable. They were secluded and she was needing love too desperately. She responded to him and encircled his neck with her arms. So hurt. So beautiful. His best friend’s wife.

“You want me to make love to you, don’t you, Chelynne?”

Her eyes dropped and her arms slipped slowly down to her sides. She couldn’t look at him. “Forgive me,” she mumbled despondently.

“You needn’t be ashamed, darling. Wanting, needing, it’s very natural and would not be thus if you were tended by the man you love.”

“But I am ashamed! I have toyed with the feelings! He touches me, leads me, and halts himself! If he had a favored lackey I wouldn’t think him even a man, but I feel his desire and I’ve wanted him, too!” She was crying again, those same jagged sobs that seemed never to be done. “That’s all I am left with, John. That shameless wanting...and I’m not at all sure for what. I...oh, I don’t even know what to do!”

Had there been light enough he would have seen the dark flush creep over her face as she choked out her words. She burned with it. She was ashamed first, then sorry for having divulged so much personal information, and now humiliated beyond anything she had ever known for the whole of it.

“It’s going to be all right, Chelynne.”

She hugged her arms about herself and mumbled something unintelligible.

“You’re shivering,” he observed. She could not look at him or answer. “Come, we’ve got to get you warmed, you’ll catch your death.”

“I can’t go back.”

“I’m not taking you back.”

“Then where?”

“I’ll take you home with me. We’ll find a hell cart. It’s not far.”

“I can’t, John,” she said, pulling back a little. “Stella would be frantic.”

He pulled her to him and stood there, very close to her with one arm around her waist. “You’re coming with me, you know that, don’t you?” She nodded. There was nothing else to be done. “And you’re going to be mighty displeased with me later. There’s quite a lot I have to tell you and you’re not going to like my deceptions.”

“We hardly know each other. How can you deceive a stranger?”

“When you’re warm and dry I’ll tell you a story. Until then let’s make walking our task.”

John’s arm gave aid. Her slippered feet throbbed from the stones beneath. They passed several surly characters and John’s tense body close to hers gave her comfort because she knew he was constantly ready, alert for any danger. It had been a very long time since she had been purposefully protected, a long time since she had felt there was nothing to fear.

It seemed they went a great distance before they came upon a coach for hire. John gave instructions to the driver and there was one stop. He left her in the coach and went to the door of some private residence. It did not occur to her to question this, but she was very conscious of the fact that he did not enter or take his eyes off the coach where she waited. It brought a flood of reassurance that she had not felt since she was bounced on her uncle’s knee.

“Now we’ll go. Don’t expect much. It’s fairly humble.”

“I must be mad to go with you,” she mumbled.

“Or just very confused.”

“You could be quite dangerous,” she thought aloud.

“You don’t think that. Indeed, you’ve little reason to fear me, but perhaps you should.”

“Should I, John?”

He leaned the short distance across and looked at her, gravely serious. “I know that even if I give you my promise that you’ll be hurt, you will still come with me, won’t you, Chelynne?”

She gave a weak affirmative nod, not even knowing herself why she was doing this.

“I’m counting on you, Chelynne. I’m hoping there’s more sense in that head of yours than you’ve shown by wandering the streets and dark alleys late at night. Anyway, it’s too late now.”

“It was the circumstance—”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said sharply. “Had you taken a moment to think you could have prevented all that’s happened to you. You could have sent word to someone from the earl’s household to fetch you, if not himself. There were a dozen ways you could have spared yourself. Foolish impulse is what got you here, and the only thing that will get you out now is some clear thinking.”

“It wasn’t simply impulse,” she argued.

“Wasn’t it?”

She thought for a moment. She started another quick denial and then remembered some other things. There was servant’s garb to conceal her identity from her own bridegroom, wild rides to free herself of pent-up tension, following Chad into the night to catch a glimpse of his mistress. Most of what she had done had been impulsive.

“I suppose,” she sighed.

“And that’s a thing you’re going to have to give up. You have a brain; use it. You can find a good sense of reason in that mind of yours if you try. Rash impulses such as this will never help you to find happiness here.”

“And going with you now...is a rash impulse.”

“Perhaps, but it’s too late now. The choice is no longer yours.”

The coach halted and John led her up a dark stairway to a second-floor room. “Humble” was a kind word for his dwelling. The room was bare but for a small table, chair and bed. A few of his belongings were stacked against the wall and the tabletop was cluttered with papers that he quickly rolled up and put from her sight. Though bare, it was scrubbed clean and had an odor much like what she remembered from when the cook house was cleaned at Welby Manor. She shivered again and John was quick to start a fire in a small and inadequate stove. He left her for a short time and she huddled near that strange creature to absorb any heat she might, wondering all the while what insane notion had led her here. There was only the single resting place and they could not share it without a great deal of physical contact.

But then that was what she expected, she thought dryly. She could try to tell herself she didn’t want anything to happen, but it would be a lie. She had wanted something like that to happen for a very long time.

He brought her a hot drink from somewhere below, a milky concoction with a strong odor and a pleasant taste. She wrapped her hands around the mug and sipped, watching him move around the room, removing his cloak and putting things away. She wondered again why she was comfortable in this man’s presence.

“Are you warmer now?” he asked.

“Yes,” she murmured, taking another sip of her drink. “Did I remember to thank you?”

“But I must thank you, my lady. You see, it was coincidence that I saw your trouble, but it was not coincidence that I helped. Even in your first plight a few months ago I lent aid only because I knew who you were. It was the same tonight. There are no gallant strangers in this city looking for three-to-one fights to save a beautiful maiden. And my purpose is purely selfish. In helping you, getting you here, I find a means to solve some of my own problems. I confess I’ve known your husband for many years. You are not a stranger to me at all.”

“You know Chad?”

“Aye, very well.”

“And you were silent! Why have you led me so?”

He shrugged. “It’s a friendship neither of us cares to acknowledge.”

“Then you are his friend?”

“We were. Before tonight.”

“What has happened?”

“I have his wife in my room. For all he knows, in my bed.”

“Do you think he would care?” she laughed. “He won’t even have to know. There will be no suit against you, my friend, for you have shown me only kindness. There is no need to tell him where I had the night. I’ll take a coach in the morning and never confess the truth.”

“Oh?” He grinned mischievously.

She gulped. “That is...if there is...oh, please! I think you’re trying to frighten me!”

“Perhaps I am. You’re a foolish little minx, you know. Had I not seen you, you would likely be floating in the Thames right now.”

“I’ve already heard your lectures and I cede your victory,” she said with a pout.

“I’ll make you a gift, my lady,” he said, reaching down into his boot. He pulled out the pearl-handled knife and held it toward her. She couldn’t help remembering that little weapon. “I trust you can carry this somewhere and if need be, use it.”

She looked away from it, mumbling, “I don’t expect myself in that position again.”

“Just in that event,” he advised. “I want you to have it. I’ll collect it back from you someday...when you’ve put your affairs in order.”

“I doubt that day shall ever come,” she sighed wearily. There was a moment of silence and the flicker of a memory across her eyes. “Do you know, there was a time when he was kind to me. When first we met he thought me to be one of my own servants. He pursued me. Seduced me. He tried to make love to me on a grassy knoll away from all eyes. Had I not known who he was I would have clawed him, but I loved him instantly.”

“Now that sounds more like the Chad I know,” John laughed.

“But now I only play hostess for him, seeing to his needs, managing his home and watching him play with another.”

“You’re so young,” John sighed. “Chelynne, has it never occurred to you that he has a very good reason for his behavior?”

“I can think of none. I would gladly share his burdens.”

“And if that is not what he wants? Maybe it is in your best interests and his to keep you a great distance from those burdens. He is not a common farmer, darling. He is an earl. He does not play at planting and harvest, letting his lord make his decisions. He plays at political games in which death is not an uncommon reward. Didn’t he ever tell you that he has important business?”

“Aye, he did. Is he in danger?”

John laughed. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the small table. “Just a while ago you claimed to love him no longer. Why do you fear for him?”

“John, don’t play games with me! Is he in danger?”

“That, sweetheart, is a constant possibility when a man is not careful. The business at hand is indeed dangerous. I think the wisest thing he’s done in his life is to keep you far from it. And you don’t even realize that you’re lucky.”

“But I’ve an interest in his business. It could at least help me to understand. But that is not so important; it is his attention I would have.” Then more softly, “Some small bit of it.”

“Yes, well, I have a great deal of respect for the man, but sometimes he is not the wisest I know. But I will tell you something and trust you to think on it carefully. He is a good man, kind and fair, but I do not know of one more dangerous in battle. He is strong and brilliant, though a little shortsighted in affairs of the heart. But then, there is good reason for that as well.”

“You make him sound quite unlike the forgetful and indifferent man I live with,” she sighed.

“I believe his indifference to be a conscious thing. It must be because of his strength of will. If he desired you gone, you would be. That he keeps you here is evidence enough that he wants you near.”

“For what purpose?”

“Chelynne, I don’t know the man’s very mind. I suggest you calm your suspicions and fears and let him settle his affairs. I think in all good time you will be glad that you did. And for God’s sake, stop jumping to so many conclusions! I know you’re young and it’s frightening to think of a lifetime of such discomfort...but I strongly doubt that it’s forever. Give the man some support. Put your loyalty in your husband, if not for love, for duty.”

“I’d have more future in loving a mule,” she murmured dispassionately.

“Chelynne, whatever happens, put your faith in Chad. Remember that I told you that. And no matter what, I promise that one day I will come to you and beg your forgiveness for whatever pains you’ve endured because of me. Please,” he said, tapping her lightly on her head. “Whatever foolishness goes through there, remember that I promised, no matter what.”

She nodded, though she was bitterly confused. He threw an arm wide, indicating the bed. “There’s only itself there,” he said with a smile. She blanched, not quite ready for all that was happening. “Come now, I’m not going to hurt you, we’ll simply rest. But I’m afraid you’ll have to disarm yourself a bit.”

She cocked her head, wondering what he meant, and then with a small laugh she realized. There were heavy pins in her hair, great layers of her gown, the bone busk and other unnecessary raiment. The procedure of freeing herself took nearly as long as the coach ride had. John couldn’t help chuckling at the many unnecessary stays, ties and hooks. He found he had to help her with many of the fastenings and there was no way for her to lift the heavy gown over her head without the strength of his arms. When at long last she was down to the simple chemise, bereft of starched petticoats and busk, his eyes warmed at the sheer petite beauty of her.