Page 15 of A Fearless Heart
“Oh, your arm!” Cady exclaimed, noticing that the red on his sleeve wasn’t just a spot where he’d wiped at his head, but was evidence of another wound. “You were hurt there too.”
“I didn’t notice,” he admitted.
“Well, let’s see how bad it is. Come, come, don’t waste time.”
He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt so she could assess the damage. She tried not to notice the shape of him generally—the smooth skin, the musculature beneath it, the faint smells of earth and sweat. He had vitality to him that she found herself responding to. She wanted to be near him, to learn more about him…
Instead, she focused on the wound, an inch or so of broken skin in the center of what was already looking like a vicious bruise. “That’s going to ache for a few days,” she murmured. “I’ll clean it and wrap it, but I can’t make all the pain disappear.”
“I raised my arm to block the blows,” he said. “He must have hit with the top of the stick just there.”
“I won’t let him back in the house,” Cady vowed. “Actually, I should thank you. Mr Pollack was a vexing guest at the best of times. But after this, I’m perfectly justified in never being at home to him again.”
“Why let him visit at all, if you don’t like him?”
Cady smiled sadly, running a fresh cloth over the wound to remove any dirt. “There are unwritten rules in Society. I’m supposed to be polite and welcoming, and Mr Pollack is a neighbor and a rather important person in the area. He’s been…well, the fact of the matter is that he wants to marry me.”
Gabe’s expression of revulsion almost made her laugh. He said, “You wouldn’t.”
“He hasn’t asked yet, so I don’t yet know what I’d say.”
“Why hasn’t he asked? I mean, you’re young and beautiful and kind. What’s he waiting for?”
Cady paused, arrested by the compliment so plainly delivered.Young and beautiful and kind. This man had only just met her, but this was what he saw? Notrich and strange and murderous?
“Begging your pardon, my lady,” he muttered, evidently realizing that the remark was a bit too personal.
She held his arm steady and began to wrap gauze around the wound, careful not to pull the cloth too tight. “No, it’s fine. And to answer your question, he’s waiting till he finds out if I’m to get the title or not.”
Gabe blinked and looked at her in surprise. “You don’tknow?”
“No one knows. Papa didn’t want my younger brother to inherit, so he tried to change things so that the title and everything goes to the eldest child, rather than the eldest male child. I’m a year older than him, not that you’d know it. But getting a title changed—there’s something called letters patent and it’s all rather convoluted, but the gist is that there’s an office in London where they decide such things, but it takes them a very long time to decide, and Papa died in the meantime, so now nobody knows if it’s Lord Calder or Lady Calder they should be trying to marry, and…it’s all a bit much,” she concluded, her shoulders sagging as the full weight of it settled down upon her again. The bizarre attack against Gabe, no,Mr Court, had distracted her from her own problems for a precious quarter hour. But now she could feel the clouds returning.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. His voice was practically a rumble in his chest, not unlike that of a great cat.
It sounded so calming, so sympathetic and yet unaffected that Cady wanted to weep. “Why sorry? What did I just say? It’s not your fault. And anyway, you’re the one who’s bleeding.”
“I’ll be better in no time,” he told her, his gaze intent on her face.
Caught by those deep blue eyes, Cady couldn’t say anything.It would be nice, she thought,to be better inanytime. She envied him.
“Still,” she whispered. “It shouldn’t have happened at all. If I hadn’t encouraged him and let him visit the house—”
“Stop. It’s not your fault. He’s the one who decided to hit me.” Gabe’s mouth curved at one corner. “And when it was over, he left and I’m still here. I’d call that a victory.”
Cady exhaled in a short little laugh, tying off the gauze so it wouldn’t unravel. “That’s a very positive way to look at it.”
“Oh, I’m good at that. Anyway, whenever I get into a fight, I usually end up on top.”
“Do you.” It wasn’t really a question. Cady was rather lost in his eyes, and she wasn’t fully registering the conversation. The only thought that flitted through her mind was that she had told him much more than she intended to, and it felt so natural, even though she hardly knew a thing about him.
Just then, she noticed a lock of that night-black hair had slipped forward. She reached over to tuck the hair back, and beneath her fingertips, his skin was warm.
When was the last time she had been alone with a man?
Does it matter? I’m alone with this man now.
This unusual thought blossomed quickly, into a full and detailed premonition of a world gone terribly wrong. If the man took the wrong message from her unconscious gesture—and why wouldn’t he?—Cady would have no recourse or indeed anywhere to run if he did decide to take advantage of having her alone.
