Echoes in Stone (24 page)

These were the master’s chambers. She’d known his rooms were in the same wing, but had no idea they were so close to hers. Heavens, she’d never be able to show her face in polite society again if word of this ever got out.

Dash didn’t give her a chance to look around. She had a swift impression of blues and greens, massive dark furniture, a surprising sense of opulence. He didn’t pause, but continued on to a door on the far side of the room. Nothing in her life had prepared Jessa for what lay on the other side of the door.

The room had probably been at one time a large dressing area. A window high in one wall showed the gathering dusk of evening. A black stove stood under the window, with four large buckets atop it. The maid standing in front of it turned as they entered.

“I’ve let the cold water into the bathing tub, sir, and the hot water is almost ready to add.”

Jessa gasped. She’d heard of bathing tubs such as this, but had never seen one. The large marble pool, sunk into the floor, could easily accommodate two people. Two steps led down into the white and gray-streaked expanse. A brass spigot protruded from the wall just above the edge of the tub. From Jessa’s vantage point high in Dash’s arms, she could see water already filled half the pool. Bottles of colored liquids, bath salts, and a china dish containing a bar of soap lined the edge.

Near the stove, fluffy towels hung from a rack. A wide bench stretched along the far wall, padded in deep red fabric. The color complemented the mural painted on the walls and ceiling; a stunning
trompe l’oeil
scene of a Roman bath, complete with faux stone columns and painted greenery. The painting cleverly disguised another door in the far wall.

Dash strode to the bench and sat, Jessa held firmly on his lap.

“Captain, I must insist you put me down. I can manage from here.” She ogled the tub. Heavens, what luxury, to sit in so large a pool of warm water.

“Jessa, I’m not going to let you go until I ascertain the extent of your injuries and how the devil you managed to get them in the first place.”

She wiggled again, in an attempt to extricate herself.

“Stop squirming this instant,” Dash said, his voice sounding strained.

Winston and Mrs. Penrose appeared in the doorway, the latter carrying a small basket of vials and jars.

Jessa eased her arms from around the captain’s neck, crossing them over her chest. How humiliating, to be sitting here in this man’s lap, in full view of half the household.

“Your lordship,” Mrs. Penrose said, “if you’ll just sit Miss Palmer down, the maid and I will help her into the bath and see to her injuries.”

“No. I have no intention of letting her out of my sight again. Every time I do, she gets into trouble.”

Mrs. Penrose opened her eyes wide, stepping back at the fierce tone of the captain’s voice.

“Now see here, Dash,” Winston said, “you can’t just—I mean, it isn’t proper—oh hang it all Dash! You don’t mean to bathe the chit yourself, do you?”

The desire to giggle bubbled in Jessa’s throat, in spite of her pain. She’d never seen the always-proper Winston Evers so close to an apoplectic fit.

Dash positively growled when he spoke. “Yes, that’s precisely what I intend to do.”

Jessa gasped, but Dash gave her no opportunity to object. “Mrs. Penrose, if you would be so good, just leave your basket of lotions and potions there. I’ve seen enough of them lately to have a good idea of their uses.” He turned to his manservant.

“Winston, lay out supper in Miss Palmer’s room. See to it there’s a good fire going.”

“Dash, you can’t do this,” Winston said. “The young lady’s reputation will be in tatters when this gets out. It’s already endangered, just by her being here. Servants talk, Dash. You know what will be said.”

“Captain—Dash—I must insist you listen to Winston,” Jessa said. “Just put some hot water in that tub. I’ll manage quite well by myself, thank you.”

Dash’s response was to tighten his grip on Jessa. One steely arm wrapped around her torso, stilling her struggles, trapping her against his broad chest. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Jessamine, we have a long overdue conversation to finish. We’ll finish that conversation tonight, with or without the servants present.” One arrogant brow cocked over silver eyes. “It’s your choice, of course.”

Jessa opened her mouth to speak, but Dash laid a finger across her lips.

“But, Jessa, bathing without me in the room is not your one of your choices. With the way things have been happening around here lately, you’ll likely drown yourself. I’m in no mood tonight to fish your body out of my bathing tub. Is that clear?”

Jessa stared at the captain. His mouth was set in a firm, straight line, the expression in his eyes implacable. There was no point in arguing with this obdurate man. She swallowed, then nodded. Tearing her gaze away from him, she cleared her throat. “Mrs. Penrose. Winston. I do appreciate your concern, but I believe it will be safe to leave me in the captain’s care. We—that is to say, I—”

“What Miss Palmer is trying to say is that she’s quite convinced I’ll do her no harm, and that two adults are capable of offering one another assistance in difficult circumstances, without falling into emotional or dramatic situations. Is that not correct, Miss Palmer?”

Jessa looked at Dash once more, searching his face for any hint of the man who’d made love to her the night before. Nothing in his expression gave him away. Only his arms, wrapped around her, gave her any clue of his fierce protectiveness. She raised her chin. She must be calm. Convincing. Unemotional. If only she could swallow past her suddenly tight throat and racing heart.

“The captain is correct.” She licked dry lips. “I’m feeling rather battered, and will be appreciative of a strong arm to assist me in and out of that rather enormous, and slippery-looking, tub. I’m sure he’s also quite capable of carrying buckets of hot water, fetching towels and what have you.”

She glanced at Dash. “Having been a married man, I’m sure he’ll  not be unduly surprised at the sight of a common female form. And I have no reason to believe he will act in any other than a dispassionate, gentlemanly manner.” She swallowed hard. It was a sheer wonder her tongue had not gone fleeing from her mouth in outrage after uttering such a string of lies. “As for my own sensibilities,” she said, “at this point, I have ceased to care.”

The last had not been a lie. She shifted on Dash’s lap, wincing again. The enforced stillness was causing her abused muscles to stiffen. She must be filthy. Her hands ached from pounding on the door. She wanted nothing more than for everyone to go away and let her soak in the enticing pool of water.

Mrs. Penrose shook her head, clucking her tongue, but put down her basket as instructed, and departed, taking the goggle-eyed maid with her. So much for avoiding servant’s gossip.

“If our guests arrive tonight, take care of them, won’t you, Winston? Tell them I’m indisposed, but will join them at breakfast. Although,” he glanced at the darkening window, “I don’t expect them to arrive before morning. Please stop by and let Holly know I won’t be able to tuck her in tonight. Tell her I’ll see her in the morning.” Dash looked at the woman in his arms, then back to Winston. “Tell her Aunt Jessa and I both will both see her in the morning.”

Winston hovered a moment longer. He cocked his head at his master in a silent question. Dash nodded to him in response, but said nothing. Winston shrugged his shoulders, then left as well, closing the door behind him.

After the flurry of activity, Jessa relished the enveloping quiet. The only sound came from the stove, where the water in the buckets bubbled. Wisps of steam rose from them and circled the room.

Dash shoved to his feet, Jessa still wrapped in his arms, turned, then set her on the bench. He knelt in front of her. “Jessa, I have a lot of questions for you. I know you have much to tell me as well.” She started to speak, but Dash once again laid his finger across her lips.

“Shhh. What you need more than anything right now is to get undressed so I can see how badly you’re injured. Then you need to soak in the tub. When you’re warm, clean and comfortable, then we can talk.”

Her muscles throbbed from the tumble down the stairs, and her eyes were gritty from with the dust she’d stirred up in her explorations. She wanted nothing more than to do as Dash asked. But what she had to say couldn’t wait. She raised an aching hand, laying it against Dash’s unscarred cheek. Tears of shock, of pain, and weariness rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

There was more shock to endure. The hellish day might be ending, but the nightmare to come would destroy them.

“Dash. Lily…your wife…Dash. Lily is alive.”

32.

Not like the Lily I remember…

DASH ROCKED BACK on his heels. Jessa’s hand fell to her lap. God, what had happened to her? Of course it wasn’t remotely possible. Lily was dead. He’d watched her remains put in the casket and sealed in the family tomb. Dead and gone and good riddance. That chapter of his life had closed.

But Jessa’s tears were real enough. They left tracks in the dirt on her face. Traces of older tears gave evidence of her long, awful day.

“Jessa—”

“Dash, drat it, I know what I saw! I’m telling you, it was Lily! She spoke to me. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I think she’s very ill. She didn’t look—” Jessa hesitated. “She didn’t look quite right. Not like herself. Not like the Lily I remember.”

Dash moved to speak, but Jessa overrode him. She leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap. “Dash, it was Lily. It was Lily who pushed me into that stairwell.” Jessa closed her eyes, dropping her head into her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“Jessa, honey, I don’t know what you saw. I can’t explain it. But for now, I need you to just stop. Stop crying. Please.”

He shook his head. He’d gone out for one day. He’d needed to clear his head. Now he had a dead woman in his kitchen, Holly imagining she was talking to her mother, and Jessa imaging his dead wife was alive. Dammit! What the hell was going on?

Too much had happened. Too fast. This was his home, blast it, and it been turned upside down. Enough. Everything else had to wait. The one person who needed him most right now sat before him, bedraggled, in pain, and crying.

He drew a breath, holding it for long seconds before blowing it out. “First things first. We’ll take things one at a time. Right now, I need to get that filthy dress off you.”

Jessa glared up at him, rebellion in every line of rigid shoulders. Her lower lip jutted out, as Holly’s did when she was being recalcitrant. He locked gazes with her, just as he did with his often-stubborn daughter. After a long, silent battle of wills, she responded the same as Holly did to that look. She sighed, dropped her shoulders, then nodded in acquiescence. She reached for the button at her throat, but Dash pushed her hands aside.

“Just sit there, Jessamine. There’s no need for you to do anything. Let me take care of you. Just this once. God only knows I haven’t been taking very good care of you up until now.”

“Dash, none of this is your fault. Not the accidents, not…not Lily…” Her voice hitched on the word.

“Jessa. Not another word. Do you hear me?” Dash undid each button down the front of her dress as he talked. He kept his voice low, comforting, just as he would if he were dealing with Holly. He soothed the dress away from her shoulders.

“So far, so good. No bruises. No broken skin.”

Jessa sat listless, no longer protesting.

“Now, let’s see what we can do to get your arms out of those sleeves.” Dash undid the row of buttons that climbed from wrist to elbow on each arm, noting the angry red abrasions on her hands. She must have been pounding on the door for some time.

She’d been as compliant as a rag doll in his hands, but hissed and jerked away when he slid her arms free of her sleeves.

Dash bit back an oath. Calm. He needed to remain calm. He needed to keep Jessa calm. “Well, honey, now I see where you took the brunt of your fall.”

Jessa looked at her arm but gave no indication she even recognized it as her own. He ran his hand lightly down it, over the pink streak of scar tissue, probing for broken bones.

She allowed his touch, shuddering as his palms grazed the red skin that would soon darken to bruises. She gasped when he reached her right wrist and yanked it away from him.

“Shhh, Jessa. It’s all right.” He soothed her, but refused to allow her to draw away. “I’ll try not to hurt you more than necessary, but I need to see how badly you’re injured.”

He looked up to see a single tear roll down her cheek. Then she raised her chin and nodded once at him, allowing him continue his examination. Her left arm was less bruised. The right wrist looked to be only sprained, not broken. He blew out a breath of relief. “Can you stand if I help you? I need to get the rest of your clothes off you and get you into that tub.” Dash moved beside Jessa, putting his arm around her waist to help her to her feet.

She hissed another indrawn breath, wincing.

My God, what a dolt he was. Her ribs. He’d grabbed her up, jounced her in his arms, gripping her far too tightly, without a thought to the bruises, or worse, she might be harboring under her ugly gray dress.

She shook, but whether from pain, or the chill in the room, he had no way of knowing.

“We need to get you into that warm bath now. Is that all right with you Jessa?”

She looked up at him. “Dash, I’m fine. I can do the rest. Honest. If you’ll just add the hot water to the tub, I’m sure I’ll be able to manage. There’s no need for you to coddle me as if I were a child.”

“Stubborn, hard-headed woman. If you think for one minute I’m going let you try to get into that tub by yourself, you have another thought coming. And believe me, I’ve never thought of you as a child.” While he spoke, he finished unbuttoning her dress, shoving it to the floor. No, definitely not a child. His action forced her to put her hand on his shoulder for balance.