Page 15 of The Earl Takes All
He needed the horrendous nightmares to stop. He felt as though he couldn’t draw in a breath, as though the oppressive heat of the jungle were suffocating him. Why had they wandered away from camp without their guides? Why did Albert have to be so damned observant and spot the baby gorilla? Why did he have to notice everything? Why hadn’t Edward had his rifle at the ready rather than slung uselessly over his shoulder?
“Here, sip on this.”
With a great deal of effort, Edward looked over at the small hand extending the glass, lifted his gaze to blue eyes filled with worry and concern. “Where did you get that?”
“Edward’s room. It’s scotch. It’ll help calm you.”
How long had he been lost in the aftermath of the dream? And how the devil did she know that she’d find scotch inEdward’sroom? Taking the glass, he downed half the contents in one long swallow, welcoming the burning in his throat as it went down, the heat spreading out through his chest.
“This is the reason you haven’t been sleeping with me, isn’t it?” she asked.
It wasn’t, but still he nodded.
“Were you dreaming of Africa?”
He turned his attention back to the fire. “I can’t stop seeing it. That last afternoon. The sunlight dappling through the leaves, the din of insects and wild creatures going about their day. The jungle is seldom quiet. All the minutia of that moment mocks me. I remember it in such vivid detail.”
“You haven’t told me exactly what happened. Tell me now.”
“Julia—”
She placed her hand on his shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze. “Unburden yourself.”
He shouldn’t, but it was eating at him.
“We, uh...” He cleared his throat. “He, uh... It was early afternoon. We’d been trekking through the jungle, stopped to eat, to have a spot of tea. I heard something, went to investigate, rifle in tow. He came along. He spotted it first. He was always so good at that. Spotting things... even when we were lads...”
His voice trailed off and he became lost in a whirlwind of memories that went back for years. She rubbed her hand in a gentle circle over his shoulder. “What did he spot?”
“A baby gorilla. It was small, with such huge eyes, so damnably cute.”
Her fingers flinched, and he knew his use of the word “damnably” had taken her by surprise. He had to remember that Albert never used profanity or vulgar language with her.
“He approached it, knelt on one knee, and began to play with it. I just stood back watching. He looked happy, smiling, chuckling low. He was actually tickling the thing. I was so incredibly glad that we were there, that we’d made the journey together... then there was this terrifying... roar is the only way to describe it. I could swear the earth trembled. Then this monstrous gorilla swept up my brother and hurled him against a tree as though he were nothing, a scrap of paper lying about. I don’t know how many times he slammed him to the ground before I was able to shoot the beast through the back of his skull. But it was too late. My brother was already gone.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed tightly. He was trembling, brought his hand up and dragged it over his mouth. “Oh, Albert, how dreadful. I’m so so sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. I think the first blow did it.” A lie. But he didn’t want her to know the truth of it, not when it was actually her husband who had lain there all broken and dying. “He didn’t suffer overmuch. He might not have even known what was happening. It was quick.” He took in a shuddering breath. “I should not have shared such a ghastly thing with you in your condition.”
“I know you think otherwise because of the babes I lost, but I am not so delicate as all that. You must share everything with me. You mustn’t keep it to yourself.”
He finished off the scotch, set the glass aside.
“Steadier?” she asked.
Remarkably, he was, and he didn’t think it was so much due to the scotch. He forced himself to meet and hold her gaze. “Yes.” He was no longer trembling, his teeth no longer chattering. The chill in his bones had faded away. “Thank you for the scotch. It was exactly what I needed.”
“I tried to wake you up when you began thrashing about.”
He’d been thrashing about? “Did I hurt you?”
Shaking her head, she brushed the damp hair back from his brow. She had such gentle fingers. “No. But it tore at my heart to see you suffering so.”
He did not deserve to have her experiencing any sort of mental anguish on his behalf. He didn’t deserve her worrying over him. “It might be better if I slept in my bedchamber until the dreams stop.”
Yet how could he give up the comfort she offered, here kneeling beside him, rubbing her delicate hand in circles over his shoulders and back. Her bare hand on his skin felt so damned good. He didn’t deserve to be touched, didn’t deserve to be comforted.
Your husband is dead because of me,he wanted to shout. He had to pretend for a little while longer, had to be stronger than he’d ever been. He wished Albert were here so he could punch him, for old times’ sake. He wished he were here so he could tell him about all the confusing emotions rioting within him.Ever notice how tiny your wife’s feet are?
