Captive of Sin

“It’s sprained but not broken,” he said eventually.

Relief gushed through her. Life over the next three weeks would be tough if she was whole. A broken arm would be a disaster. Thank goodness Hubert’s beating had ceased once he knocked her unconscious.

Akash tested her hands, arms, neck, then ran his fingers carefully over

her face. His touch was so impersonal, she gradually relaxed and became aware of the activity around her. While Tulliver checked the horses, Gideon collected a leather bag strapped to the back of the carriage. Without speaking, he placed it beside Akash. He turned away and began to lay a fire.

Trying to distract herself from both the cold and the painful examination, she watched the graceful deftness of Gideon’s gloved hands as he accomplished the workaday task. The breath caught in her throat when the crackling flames caught and lit his remarkable face to gold, gleaming along smooth cheekbone and angular jaw.

Beautiful. The word whispered through her like a glissando on a harp.

Looking at Sir Gideon made her restless, edgy. She shifted to ease a strange pressure in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Miss Watson.” Akash raised his hands from her shoulders.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

She blushed when she realized he’d seen where her attention strayed. Straightening on the rickety stool, she strove to bring her unruly heartbeat under control.

As she looked up into Akash’s face, the compassion in his eyes made her cringe. He was a handsome man. The recognition was as dispassionate as if she studied a fine portrait. His handsomeness didn’t call to her the way Sir Gideon’s did.

Sir Gideon disappeared into moonlit darkness and returned carrying a tin kettle, which he set on the blaze. She’d been so focused on watching him that she hadn’t heard the stream bubbling in the distance. Behind her, Tulliver muttered softly as he fussed over the horses.

Once the water heated, Akash used a damp cloth to wash the blood and dirt from her swollen face. Even the lightest touch stung, and she tautened every muscle to stay still. She struggled not to glance at Gideon as she huddled in her shawl.

Eventually, she couldn’t help herself. While she silently bore Akash’s ministrations, she looked across to where Sir Gideon stood on the far side of the circle of firelight.

His febrile dark eyes were glued to her. Some deep turmoil she didn’t understand stirred in his gaze. His gloved hands clenched at his sides. She read anger in his expression, the same anger he’d betrayed when he first saw her battered face. She shivered although she knew the rage was targeted at her abusers and not at her.

He stiffened as he noticed her attention and turned away to fetch more folding stools, which he set up around the fire. She bent her head, knowing her unconcealed interest was unbecoming in a lady.

Akash opened the bag and located a small ceramic pot. When he opened it, a pungent herbal smell filled the air. She jerked back, then made herself sit as he stroked the ointment onto her cheeks. Her face felt like it had been whipped with nettles. She couldn’t stifle a gasp of discomfort.

“Damn it, man. You’re hurting her!” Gideon’s protest was sharp, and he took an urgent step in their direction. “Be careful!”

Akash ignored his protective friend and spoke to Charis. “Where else are you hurt?”

Her ribs ached, and she had grazes on her knees from where she’d fallen in the dark. But her arm and face were by far the worst of it. “Nowhere.”

Akash’s stare was searching as he replaced the lid on the ointment. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She wanted him to stop. She couldn’t bear much more. Already her vision grew hazy as endurance faded.

“I’ll wrap your arm to reduce the swelling.” Akash opened another jar and smoothed the contents on her arm. It was as smelly as the first ointment, but when it touched her skin, she felt a spreading heat.

Surely this torture must soon be over. The shawl and her flimsy dress offered little protection from the biting wind. She drooped with exhaustion by the time Akash wrapped a bandage around her arm.

Gideon knelt and drew another length of linen from the bag that held their medical supplies. “A sling might be a good idea.”

“Yes.” Akash rigged the linen around her neck. Immediately, the painful pressure on her arm eased. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.” She looked up with a shaky smile. “You’ve been very kind.”

He gave another of those exotic shrugs. “My pleasure. I know you’re sore and sorry, but I can’t find any lasting damage. I’ll need to check in the daylight, but from what I can see, your injuries are superficial. You’ll be fighting fit in no time.”

She was too tired to do much more than whisper another thank-you. Gideon fetched the greatcoat from the carriage and dropped it around her shoulders. As the heavy folds enveloped her, his already familiar scent teased her nostrils. The warmth was immediate and welcome. “Come and sit near the fire.”

Already he’d moved out of reach. For a lost moment, she watched him stride away. Then crushing weariness hit, and she stumbled the short distance to the fire, where she collapsed onto a stool. Her frozen extremities tingled as restoring heat slowly seeped through her.