My Forbidden Mentor (10 page)

Infuriated with her attitude and obstinate disposition, he took matters into his own hands. “Damn it to hell,” he said aloud, and wrapped his arms around her, arranging her to be carried. Ignoring her protests he strode over to his mare with Melissa gathered in his arms. Coaxing his mare into a laying position, carefully he stepped over the mare and eased down, aiming for the saddle. About half way down he encouraged Clara to stand. After a mild adjustment John began his journey with one arm dedicated to holding Melissa, his other handling the reins of both the mare and the gelding.

They rode in silence except for an occasional sniffle from Melissa. Any jarring movement at all sent a new flare of pain through her injured calf.

“Shh, it’s not much further,” John would whisper, trying to console her.

When they arrived at her home Miss Beckett helped as much as possible but her strength didn’t match John’s. He took over by carrying Melissa to the couch in the sitting room, figuring the stairs would add further discomfort when she could walk again.

Miss Beckett brought blankets and pillows from Melissa’s room, making her as comfortable as possible, and then she retrieved fresh tea and offered John his choice of drink. He chose brandy.

While Melissa rested John stood before the front window, sipping his drink and staring out into nothing. His mind was lost and confused as not knowing the extent of her injury bothered him. Could she ever ride again? And if she couldn’t, what a horrible fate to overcome, especially for Melissa.Then there were her outbursts, which he assumed came from the pain she was feeling, but why had she run from his manor? The sound of hooves thudding into the ground interrupted his thoughts. The doctor had arrived.

After careful examination Dr. Bennett looked up into faces of concern. John, Miss Beckett, and Mr. Howard all stood around Melissa, waiting with struggling patience for the doctor’s prognosis.

Dr. Bennett lifted to stand, collecting his supplies. “Well Miss Howard, it seems you have a contusion. What this means,” he said as he straightened with his supplies in his hand, “is that the strike of your horse’s hoof caused deep bruising and tearing to your calf muscle.” The doctor caught everyone wincing but his patient. “The swelling and pain are normal, of course, but functionality is sometimes questionable. Initially you will need to stay off it to bring the swelling down, but once most of the pain is gone you can begin stretching it and walking on it again.” He kneeled next to her. “Because of the extent of damage done, mainly from the weight of the horse, it may never heal completely, meaning you may be left with a limp.” Everyone remained quiet and the doctor sympathized with Melissa. “I’m sorry about that, but the good news is you will be able to walk again, almost normally, depending on how hard you work at it and how cooperative the muscle is.”

The idea that she was left with a limp hadn’t sunk in yet. Her main concern dealt with her ability to race again. She looked to John then back to Dr. Bennett. “Will I be able to ride again Dr. Bennett?” she asked with shakiness to her voice.

John prayed in silence that the doctor would say yes.

Dr. Bennett smiled to reassure her as best he could. “I can’t say for sure. It will depend on how well the muscle heals and how strong it becomes with regular exercise,” he told her and rose again. “Rest for now and I’ll check on you in one week. Meanwhile I’ve given your aunt instructions to help you. Take care.”

John walked the doctor out to his carriage.

When John returned he saw that Melissa’s aunt and father were reassuring her by giving her hope that everything would be all right. John stood in the doorway a moment studying her reaction to them. Detachment is what he saw. He guessed that her thoughts dwelled on the doctor’s words. She responded to her family’s suggestions but her response was distant.

Mr. Howard noticed John then. “Lord Blackburn I can never thank you enough for the care you’ve given Melissa.”

John stepped forward, stopping next to where Melissa lay on the couch, and faced her father. “I feel thankful I was able to be there for her,” he said and glanced in Melissa’s direction, unexpectedly receiving a glare of animosity. Was it only yesterday he’d had her moaning with pleasure, he reflected, staring into her eyes of anger?

The sound of liquid pouring returned his attention to her father. Phillip was lifting a glass of scotch to his mouth when John tried focusing on Phillip’s words instead of the angered glare he’d gotten.

“The point is, Lord Blackburn, that our little girl here will recuperate and be better than ever thanks to your immediate actions,” Phillip boasted.

John smiled and nodded in agreement for Phillip’s sake. Something else was going on with his daughter that he didn’t seem aware of but John was, and the distinct notion that it had to do with yesterday’s turning point in their relationship amid the hayloft seemed reasonable.

Unenlightened by the turbulent emotions floating between his daughter and her hero, Phillip searched for his pipe. Remembering that he’d left it in his bedroom he excused himself. Miss Beckett followed behind him, inquiring about supper.

John believed this would be a perfect time for a confrontation, at least to find out why she had left his manor in such a hurry. Shifting to face her, her neutral expression left him dazed. He couldn’t read her at all. He decided to kneel beside her. “Melissa, why did you run away? From my manor, I mean?”

“Why do you care?” She reacted out of hurt. The physical pain she was experiencing didn’t compare to the emotional one.

“What kind of question is that?” he questioned because her drastic response staggered him.

She wouldn’t look him straight in the eye when she responded again, “Well, I know how busy you can be entertaining.”

Even the emphasis on the word entertaining puzzled him. Did his touching her upset her that much? “What are you talking about? You’re not making sense,” he expressed with genuine sincerity. There wasn’t any laughter behind his serious eyes.

“It doesn’t matter anymore John. Nothing matters anymore.”

“I don’t want to hear you saying things like that. It’s not like you.”

Prompt and direct, her eyes found his. “Oh, and you know me so well, don’t you?”

For a short time he just stared, trying to make sense of her change in attitude. Her focus hadn’t let go of his and she looked like she was about to cry. “Why are you so upset with me? You’re so hostile. You weren’t this mad yesterday,” he said, mystified by her behavior and searching for some suitable explanation

Her eyes blinked and she turned away. “Yesterday, I don’t want to talk about yesterday. Yesterday everything was normal.”

He wanted to yell but managed to contain himself. Taking a couple of deep breaths he switched the subject back on track. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Phillip entered the sitting room heading for his favorite chair. John resigned himself to the fact that his questions would not be answered today. As he started to rise Melissa touched his forearm, thanking him. “I know you’ve got business to take care of I understand. Again, I’m ever so grateful for your help.”

The kindness she showed was her way of getting rid of him. How could he not notice that clue? Her strange behavior had him flustered. A reaction of despair seemed appropriate but this underlying anger she vented was aimed straight at him, extreme anger, and he intended to find out why whether she wanted to tell him or not. He had his ways of finding out, which were maybe different than hers, but he would attain the results he searched for. He made sure there was complete understanding between them when he rose to leave. “Yes, I should be going,” he said as his eyes gripped hers, leaving no misunderstanding about his intentions. “I’ll be by tomorrow to see how you’re doing.” The grin he flashed her way ensured that her father was a witness to his intentions.

Melissa smiled long enough to avoid suspicion with her father. “I would appreciate that.”

John bid her father a good evening and left.

A few weeks passed and John faithfully stopped by to check on Melissa’s progress. To his misfortune, Miss Beckett was around all the time so John couldn’t confront Melissa about anything between them personally, but John did notice an improvement in Melissa’s attitude toward her leg. Dr. Bennett’s encouragement appeared to help, for oftentimes John would find Melissa in the middle of stretching and exercising her leg.

Most of the time John updated her on the present races going on and upcoming, and although she was cordial to John, he couldn’t escape the distinct feeling that somehow he had disappointed her, how he wasn’t sure, but something had caused relentless friction between them.

John had to be out of town for a couple days as business regarding Chief required that he be there, but after his business trip he’d been anxious to see Melissa again despite the inner battle they seemed to be fighting. In a joyful mood one afternoon, John rode his horse at a galloping pace to reach the Howard’s home, not sure why he was in such a hurry to see his student, who hadn’t been so eager to see him lately, but he was. He slowed his mare to a trot when trailing down the familiar path to the familiar country home. At first he spotted Mr. Howard feeding the horses. John’s gaze continued scanning the surrounding environment but Melissa didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight as John pulled his mare to a halt next to the barn. Mr. Howard greeted him while he slid out of the saddle. The men chatted about business and related subjects while Phillip finished the outside chores. John found himself following Mr. Howard into the cabin as they continued their conversation. As John took the seat offered to him he continued wondering where in the world Melissa could be as by now she would have made herself present.

John’s curiosity had curtailed long enough for he couldn’t concentrate on a word Mr. Howard was saying. When Phillip took a breath John inquired, “Mr. Howard, may I ask where Melissa is?” Sounding somewhat forward, John made sure to add, “I’ve been wondering about her progress with her leg for training purposes.”

Phillip smiled at John’s inquiry. It had become obvious that John cared for Melissa as much more than a mere student. “Have a drink John,” Phillip asked. The last few weeks spent together took on a personal note for John and Mr. Howard. Mr. Howard called John by his first name now but out of respect for his being Melissa’s father, John still addressed him as Mr. Howard or sir.

John readily accepted the glass of brandy Miss Beckett handed him.

“As you know Melissa’s progress has improved dramatically in the physical sense, but I’ve been worried about her mental state. She hasn’t been herself of late. Even the healing of her leg hasn’t helped her emotional well-being.” Phillip downed a large amount of scotch as John waited, listening with engrossed enthusiasm. “So, I decided to send her on a short trip for a few days. Somewhere she’s always wanted to visit.” Phillip saw surprise grace John’s features and knew he would have questions, as he should. If John sincerely cared for his daughter, as Phillip had guessed, then he should be concerned for her whereabouts.

“May I be so bold as to ask where she’s gone to?” John asked, trying to sound unaffected by gulping a large amount of brandy.

“Dublin, Ireland,” Phillip replied.

Dublin, Ireland! “She has an escort I presume?” Most likely she did and now he wondered whom.

“Yes, of course. I sent Kurt with her, one of my workers. I can trust him.” Phillip had to take another swig so as to not give away his devious smile. The look on John’s face when Phillip mentioned Kurt was unexpected, quite amusing, actually, even though the intention of sending Kurt had nothing to do with making John jealous but to protect his daughter.

“I see. How did she take to having a chaperone?” John asked.

In the corner of Phillip’s eyes lay a twinkle. “You know my daughter well enough by now, John, to know she disliked the idea originally. But, being her father, I had a way of making her understand: either the trip with an escort or no trip at all.” Miss Beckett brought Phillip a full pipe. “Thank you,” he told her. His attention went back to John. “I would have rather you’d been her escort, but I surely can’t expect you to handle such a task when you’ve got your own business to run.”

John needed to appear relaxed. The thought of an eighteen-year-old young man with raging hormones protecting Melissa made him tense. “I wouldn’t have minded.” That was all he could say while he came to grip with the situation. He hadn’t any rights to Melissa, none at all. A deep breath served to calm him enough to be rational. At least she wasn’t alone, alone going to a new place, a place she knew nothing about. Oh lord, what am I doing to myself? Phillip’s voice strangled further deliberation.

“It’s only for a few days. She left this morn and I expect her back early next week,” Phillip revealed and then decided to test John’s shaky ground. “You know that girl of mine need’s stability in her life. She’s not getting any younger,” he admitted, as if expecting a confession of love for his daughter.

Phillip noticed the way his daughter admired John, pretending he didn’t matter while her eyes gave her away. Phillip also observed how much personal time the lord spent with her. Assuming they’d taken a liking to each other beyond their teacher/student arrangement, Phillip wasn’t opposed to a marriage between them. With Lord Blackburn there would be financial security, a life surrounded with thoroughbreds, a passion they clearly had in common, and the ability to travel, not to mention making handsome babies together. Assuming they hadn’t been intimate, Phillip knew too well of the potent affects a young couple endured during courtship or otherwise always being together a significant amount of time.

John wondered if Mr. Howard had any knowledge of the private liaison he’d had with his daughter in the hayloft and if that was the reason for his implication of marriage, after all, his daughter still remained a virgin.

Just then Mr. Howard lit his pipe full of tobacco. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as if he knew why John had become quiet. Phillip had surprised him with his observations. Why wouldn’t he encourage their relationship? He noticed their mutual attraction even before the training had started. Why not give a little shove, he thought. “John, I know that Melissa is very fond of you. She looks up to you.” Phillip took a quick puff on his pipe, as John turned attentive. “She’s learned a great deal in the time you’ve spent with her thus far.” John took a sip of his half-emptied glass of brandy as Phillip continued. “I have a favor to ask of you.” John’s reaction was a lift of one black brow. Phillip took another puff, this time a longer one.

The tension was excruciating for John, expecting Mr. Howard to give him an ultimatum regarding his daughter, but to John’s surprise it was completely different. Smoke lazily spiraled above Phillip’s head as he went on. In nervous tension John downed the remainder of his drink.

“I’ve noticed that you have a way with her. She listens to you, so I’m asking if you could keep an eye on her for me when I’m not around.” Phillip stopped to puff some more and saw John’s expression of confusion.

“What do you mean Mr. Howard?” The empty glass he held started to slip from his sweating hand so he set it on the table.

Phillip needed to explain. “I can see I haven’t made any sense. I don’t plan on leaving any time soon, my friend, but I can see true friendship between you two, and after I pass away, to know you will look out for her would give me peace of mind. She hasn’t many relatives left, especially nearby. It would settle my heart to know she has someone in her life that she can trust and rely on. I trust you, John.”

John’s features froze. He hadn’t given John an ultimatum; he’d requested him to be his daughter’s guardian for life. John didn’t know how to feel. He never expected that Mr. Howard would want a lifetime commitment without marriage. John had to make sure. “Mr. Howard you’re putting a lot of faith in me,” he said, leaning forward in the chair. “What I mean to say is, I care a great deal for Melissa, I truly do, but that is a lifetime of responsibility you’re asking of me. What if she doesn’t approve? You know how stubborn she can be.”

Phillip’s smile widened, never imagining a lord of his status having to question his own abilities. “Precisely what I meant earlier, John. She will listen to you. She doesn’t have to be aware of this particular part of our conversation.” He paused to give John a way out. “I understand if you’re not able. Please don’t feel obligated,” Phillip told him, and let John ponder some more, discreetly adding words of confidence. “I do have faith in you, though.”

John remained quiet before answering. He hadn’t objected, but if Melissa were to marry someone else could he handle it? Could her future husband handle their relationship? Here this kind man, Melissa’s father, was asking him to always be there for his daughter no matter what. How could he turn him down? How could he agree, when at present Melissa only talked to him to be courteous? It would prove challenging. John looked into Phillip’s eyes, Melissa’s eyes, and said, “I will. I will do as you ask.”

Phillip rose from his chair to fill John’s glass then grabbed the bottle of scotch and filled his own. Lifting his glass in the air, John did the same while Phillip said, “Thank you. I’m forever grateful. Now my worries will be lessened.” Both smiled and drank, then spent the remainder of the evening enjoying each other’s company. By half past midnight, John climbed atop his mare in unsteadiness. Heading for his manor, he wondered if he should have accepted Mr. Howard’s offer to stay the night. Too late now, he thought, he was already half way home.

At the rise of dawn, while heavy clouds still floated low, John was already half way back to the Howards’ home. He and Mr. Howard had made plans to go hunting since neither had done so in some time. Hunting wasn’t a common outing for John but periodically he engaged in the activity. The way Mr. Howard talked of his experiences, John could learn a lot from him. Melissa wasn’t around to spend time with so why not spend time with her father? He could turn out to be the father figure he’d never had.

John arrived at their arranged time. Sliding off Clara, an eerie silence surrounded him. Strangely, the front door was wide open but there wasn’t a soul in sight. John strode toward the entry of the cabin. He called out in greeting but no one answered, and then the sound of weeping pierced his ears. Without hesitating he entered the cabin, trying to locate the person in need. He followed the sound to a room toward the back of the house. As he approached the bedroom he found the source.

The door was open and he saw Miss Beckett sitting in a chair next to Mr. Howard’s bed. Phillip lay still in his bed, looking peaceful. “No,” John mumbled under his breath. He walked over to Miss Beckett, handing her a handkerchief. “Miss Beckett.”

Taking the handkerchief from his hand, she looked up through wet lashes. “Oh Lord Blackburn, it’s Mr. Howard, he’s gone. I came to wake him for breakfast and he didn’t answer his door,” she paused to gain her composure and John kneeled before her. “So I came in and he was lying in his bed as he is now.”

While Miss Beckett was blowing her nose John gazed at Melissa’s father, thinking that just last evening he was laughing and talking with him. Just last evening he had made him a promise.

“I shook him and he didn’t move. He didn’t seem sick at all,” she cried.

John rose and as a precautionary measure he took Phillip’s pulse and found none. Turning back to Miss Beckett, he quietly agreed. “You’re right, he’s gone.”

Miss Beckett used John’s handkerchief to wipe the wetness from her sorrowful eyes. “It’s an incredible shock,” she said with a cracking voice.

Unbelievable, John thought. “We were going hunting today,” he mentioned. His eyes scanned the masculine room he was standing in, taking in Mr. Howard’s character. Custom crafted, high dollar oak furniture encircled him, the same as in the sitting room. More amazing designs embedded this light oak as well. Paintings of both his wife, who was quite stunning herself, and of Melissa decorated his walls. His eyes fell back on Mr. Howard, the sunlight now cast across him as the morning clouds began burning off. John reached over to close the dark green drapes near his bed, keeping the morning heat off his peaceful sleeping body. John’s hands covered his face, rubbing his features like he was trying to wake from a bad dream.

Miss Beckett began to panic. “Oh, my dear, I’ve got to get word to Miss Melissa. She’s going to be heartbroken. Both of her parents are gone now. Somehow I’ll have to get word to her. You know she’s in Dublin, Ireland?”

John shifted toward Miss Beckett. “Yes, I know. I’ll take care of that. I’ll go get her,” he told her.

“I’ve got to make arrangements for his burial.” she responded, feeling weak and overwhelmed by everything to be done.

John kneeled down again. “You do that and I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry about the cost. Get the best of everything,” John offered.

“That’s very generous of you Lord Blackburn, but it’s not expected, and I’m not sure if Miss Melissa will approve,” she told him.

His authority won out, as it usually did. “I insist. I’ll make Melissa understand.” His new friend deserved any comfort John could offer. With everything else going on all at once, the last worry Melissa needed was any financial burden.

“I’ll get started then.” Even in her distress, Miss Beckett gave John a smile.

“Will you be all right by yourself?” John asked in genuine concern.