Intimate 02 - Intimate Surrender (18 page)

He was the first man who’d understood the choices she’d been forced to make and didn’t judge her for the life she’d chosen.

“I’m not afraid, Rafe.”

“Yes, you are. But I’m telling you that you don’t have to be afraid of what’s happening between us. The love we feel for each other is a gift. I’ve lived thirty years thinking I’d never find that kind of love—and then I met you. Don’t ask me to give you up, Hannah. I won’t.”

Hannah stood, then walked across the room. The window looked out on the street where fancy carriages drove by. Some of them stopped to drop off a passenger. “You said once that you didn’t have a parish to return to. What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly that.”

Hannah looked over her shoulder. The expression on his face told her he was serious.

“I preached at a parish in Hertfordshire for a couple of years. Essex a couple of years before that.”

“Why did you leave? Didn’t you like it there?”

“I was very happy there. Both parishes had wonderful people—good people. They did everything possible to make me feel welcome and appreciated.”

Hannah was confused. “Why did you leave?”

The corners of Rafe’s swollen lips lifted. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Thomas did when I told him, but…”

Hannah walked to the chair near his bed that she’d spent so many hours in, and sat. “Why did you leave a parish where everyone loved you?”

“I left because I wasn’t needed. I always felt as though God had something
more
He wanted me to do. I was simply biding time until He showed me what that
something
was.”

“You were bored.”

“Yes. I was preaching to a congregation of saints.” He looked at her and smiled. “Oh, there were the occasional funerals to conduct and grieving families to comfort. There were weddings and baptisms, and the old and infirm to visit. But other than that, I spent most of my time fighting off mothers and fathers with eligible daughters to marry. Every Sunday I was invited to someone’s home for dinner. When we finished eating, everyone at the table conveniently had something to do—except the daughter with whom I was invited to spend time.”

Hannah covered her mouth to stifle the giggle that wanted to sneak out. “No wonder you took exception to the girls Caroline invited to partner you.”

He lifted his gaze and looked deep into her eyes. “You were there. I would have been perfectly content being your partner every day of the two weeks.”

“Except everyone knew how impossible that was. They all knew who and
what
I was.”

“Why can’t you believe that none of that matters? If we love each other enough, we’ll find a way to be together.”

“And what will we do, Rafe? Look down the road five—even two years. What will we do? I don’t fit in your world, and you don’t fit in mine.”

“Then we’ll make another world. A world in which we do fit.”

“What world would that be? You have a gift. I’ve seen you. You open your mouth and people are drawn to what you say. Children sit at your feet in awe. Adults listen to your every word.” Hannah paused. “You have a calling, and it would be a sin to turn your back on what you’ve been called to do.” She sighed. “I don’t belong in that world.”

She lifted her hand to stop him from rebutting what she’d said. “Because of my past, I don’t belong in the same circles as you. We would both live in terror every day for fear that someone would discover who I am—what I’d been. Being the well-known Madam Genevieve is impossible to hide.”

Rafe opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

“You know I’m right, Rafe,” she whispered. “You’ve always known it, just as I have. We were both given a magical week this summer in which to experience a love we’ve never known before. I will never forget you, or the emotions you allowed me to feel. But here is where it must end. You must heal and get well enough to search for the perfect place in which to use your gift. And I must stay here, where I belong, and where I can use the gifts I have been given.”

Hannah knew Rafe intended to argue, but a knock on the door stopped him from saying anything more.

“Yes,” she said, and the door opened. Dalia stood in the entryway.

“You need to come upstairs, Genny. Delores found one of Skinner’s girls. She needs our help.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Dalia nodded, then left.

Hannah stood, but Rafe’s voice stopped her from leaving.

“What did Dalia mean ‘one of Skinner’s girls’? Surely you’re not risking your life by going out after more girls?”

“It’s not like you think.”

“Are your girls still going out to rescue girls or not?”

“Yes, but—”

“Bloody hell, Hannah! Wasn’t what happened to me enough? Do you want there to be more?”

Hannah felt her temper soar. He didn’t understand. No one understood except someone who’d gone through the same thing. “I have to go. We can talk about this later.”

“You’re bloody right we will.”

She walked across the room, then closed the door firmly behind her.

She needed to leave the room before either of them said words they’d regret later.

On her way up the stairs, Hannah said a quick prayer that when she reached the girl Delores had rescued, she wouldn’t be injured as badly as the last girl they’d found.

She rushed into the room without knocking. A bed was in the corner on the opposite side of the room, and the girl was huddled in a tight ball as far away from where anyone could reach her as she could get. Delores sat on the edge of the bed and talked to the girl. Her voice was soft and sweet, exactly how they’d all learned to speak to the girls they’d found.

So far Hannah hadn’t glimpsed the girl’s face to see how badly she’d been beaten, or checked the other parts of her body to evaluate how badly she’d been abused. But if her torn clothes and how she was protecting herself was any indication, she’d been raped—and probably more than once.

Hannah looked at Delores, who shook her head in answer to Hannah’s unspoken question.

“Look, Lilly,” Delores said in a happy tone. “Here’s the lady I told you would come. Now everything will be all right. She’ll take care of you. She won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Hannah walked to the bed. “Hello, Lilly. My name is Genny.” Hannah sat on the edge of the bed where Delores had been. “Delores, why don’t you go down and have someone bring up some warm water. I’m sure Lilly would like to bathe. Wouldn’t you, Lilly?”

The girl nodded.

She was glad the girl reacted to what she said. That was a positive sign. But then, Hannah remembered how desperate she’d been to bathe. How frantic she’d been to remove the feel of the man who’d raped her. How eager she’d been to feel clean again.

“I’ll send water right up,” Delores said, then walked to the door. “And something warm to eat and drink. Who knows the last time the poor thing ate anything.”

When Delores left the room, Hannah slid close enough so she could touch the girl. She knew she wouldn’t want to be touched at first, but eventually she’d want some soft arms to hold her. Hannah brushed her hand down the girl’s tangled hair. “Where are you from, Lilly?”

The girl didn’t respond to her question, but Hannah didn’t expect an answer. She hadn’t asked a question that warranted a strong reaction.

“Are you from London?”

No response.

Hannah smoothed her hand down the girl’s long wheat-colored hair. “Would you like me to send for your family? I’ll find them and you can go back to them.”

“No!”

The girl turned with a jerk, and Hannah got her first glimpse of what had been done to her. Her face was bruised in several spots, and there were at least three cuts across her cheek and jaw where a heavy fist must have hit her. Hannah guessed her eyes were a pretty blue, but they were so swollen it was hard to tell. The only thing she couldn’t miss was the terror in Lilly’s eyes. She was obviously as terrified of returning home as she was of what had happened to her tonight.

“That’s all right, Lilly. You don’t have to go home.” Hannah opened her arms in hopes that the girl would take refuge in her embrace. She did.

With a bound, the girl fell against Hannah. She was small and fragile, and if Hannah were to guess, she’d estimate Lilly wasn’t more than thirteen or fourteen years old.

Hannah held her tightly and rocked back and forth with her in her arms.

“I don’t want to go home,” the girl cried as she held on to Hannah. “Please don’t make me go back there.”

“I won’t. You can stay right here. I’ll take care of you.”

Hannah continued to rock her and, finally, the tears came. Step one of the healing process. She feared most for the poor girls who didn’t cry but held their hurt and pain inside. They were the ones who healed most slowly.

“It’s all right, Lilly,” Hannah said, noticing for the first time her ripped clothing and the blood on her skirt. “It’s all right. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Hannah held the young girl until the last of her tears dried. When the bath water arrived, she helped Lilly bathe, letting the girl stay in the water even after it had grown
cold. She would always remember how long she’d stayed in the stream, how hard she tried to scrub away the vile things the man had done to her. Lilly was the same—all the girls they found were. They scrubbed their bodies until they were raw, then scrubbed them some more.

Hannah didn’t have a chance to evaluate how badly the girl had been hurt until she finally crawled out of the water. Hannah put salve on the scratches that were raw and bleeding, and ointment on the bruises, but those were the easiest wounds to care for. The wounds that would take the longest to heal were those on the inside. Those wounds would take years, perhaps a lifetime to heal—if even then.

When the worst of the bruises and claw marks were taken care of, she gave the young girl a cup of hot tea, then put her to bed. She’d sit there until Lilly fell asleep, in case she had nightmares. Then, in a week or two, when the bruises had time to fade, she’d take her to Coventry Cottage. Lilly would be fine there. She would be with others who had gone through the same horrors.

Hannah sat on the bed with Lilly’s head in her lap. The girl had fallen asleep more than an hour ago, but her grip around Hannah’s body hadn’t loosened. It would in time. Hannah would sit there until it did.

For some it took longer. The stronger ones didn’t take as long. The more fragile ones…well, they would need more care and comforting.

Hannah leaned back against the bed’s headboard. The first few hours with a girl they’d just rescued were the hardest for her. Especially the hours after the girl fell asleep and Hannah sat in the quiet with her. Times like
this forced Hannah to relive the night everything had been stolen from her. When her dreams had been destroyed.

She thought of Rafe and pushed aside the thought of what a future with him would be like. That dream had been taken from her when a man raped her, the same as with the man who had raped Lilly tonight. That man took everything from her and left her with…

One tear after another streamed down her face, and Hannah let them fall. Very seldom did she allow herself to wallow in self-pity. Seldom did she allow herself to think about what had been taken from her, of what she couldn’t give a man.

The most important were children. That ability was taken from her when she lost her innocence and her reputation.

She thought of Rafe and the children he would someday have—children she could never give him. And fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

Hannah breathed a deep sigh and swiped at her wet cheeks. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough. It was time to forget what she would never have and concentrate on the blessings she’d been given.

She shifted Lilly’s head from her lap to the pillow and quietly stood. She needed to wash her face to get rid of the tearstains on her cheeks before anyone saw her. It wouldn’t do her reputation any good if they discovered she wasn’t as strong as she let everyone believe she was.

Hannah slowly inched backward toward the door, making sure not to awaken Lilly. When she reached the other side of the room, she turned and came face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see her so vulnerable—Rafe.