My Duke's Deception (Wicked Lords of London 2) - Page 11

“Both of you, stop.” Ryker stepped between the two men yet again. “This is getting ludicrous-”

But he was cut off when the horse suddenly bucked up in its stall and kicked out. Matthew plastered himself to the wall, and a good thing too or the horse would have caught him in the chest. But he did swipe Matthew’s arm and shooting pain radiated down to his fingers and up to his shoulders. “Bloody hell.” He grabbed for his arm as Ryker pulled him toward the door of the stall.

They managed to avoid the stallion’s next kick and all three men tumbled out into the main floor of the barn. “Are you all right?” Luke asked as he pulled himself up and reached his hand out to help Matthew.

Matthew gingerly moved his arm. “Fine, I don’t think anything’s broken but it’s going to be sore for a few days.”

Luke’s gaze swept up and down Matthew as though confirming he wasn’t more seriously injured. “I am sorry I was so gruff.”

“Me too.” Matthew moved his arm a little more, testing it. Focusing on the pain in his arm somehow made it easier to admit the next bit. “You’re poking at feelings I haven’t sorted yet.”

Luke waved him off. “Ah yes, I understand perfectly. I’ll only say one more thing and then I’ll be quiet. If Ella proves to be a good woman, and I think she might, then don’t let a bad one ruin your future the way she already damaged your past.”

Matthew sucked in his breath, thinking those words over. They left the barn and returned to find the ladies. He held his arm, thinking he might need a visit from the doctor after all.

As they stepped into the room, he immediately locked eyes with Ella. She sat with her back straight, her hands neatly folded, her lips parted in a soft smile. She looked so beautiful and he ached to touch her.

He thought about Luke’s words but he just wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to trust again.

Her eyes snapped to him and immediately her brow crinkled in worry. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“He was kicked by one of the horses.” Ryker grimaced. “He moved just in time, or it would have be

en far more serious.”

Ella stood, her hands covering her mouth before she crossed the room toward him. “Are you all right? Should we see a doctor? Should I take you back to the inn?”

The tips of his fingers tingled to touch her, a need that shot up his arm. He drew a long breath, and curled his fingers into a ball. He liked the way she worried after him. “I think it would be wise to return, thank you.” Not only was his arm aching but he’d had enough of his friends’ barrage and he wished for Ella’s quiet company.

They said their goodbyes and climbed into the carriage. But this time, she did not sit across from him but next to him, her hand coming to his shoulder. “Where were you hit?”

“Here.” He winced as he touched the tender spot just above the elbow.

She massaged the shoulder above the forming lump and then the forearm below it. Though her touch didn’t dull the pain of the injury, it relaxed him, which seemed to help and her light touch both soothed and excited. He tried and failed to remember when another person had cared for him like this.

“I shall look at it as soon as we return and then we can fetch the doctor.” Ella said softly in the quiet of the carriage.

“Thank you.” He leaned in to her touch and then bent his head to rest in the crook between her shoulder and neck. She was soft and warm, her smell, like rose water and mint, enveloped him in a fabulous bombardment to his senses.

“It’s the least I can do,” she replied.

To Matthew, it was as though a bucket of water had been thrust at him and he straightened away from her. Of course, she was just repaying his kindness. “There is no obligation on your part to care for me.”

She was silent for so long that he looked over to her. Her mouth was pinched as though she were pained. “I didn’t intend to imply that I acted out of duty.” She cleared her throat and turned to more fully face him. “In my whole life, those who have supported me have done it out of obligation. Certainly my nanny, and my father only tolerated my existence.”

His curiosity made him forget his hurt. “Why?”

She shrugged, looking at her lap. “He implied, on one of the few occasions we were together, that he’d been forced to wed my mother. I assumed they’d had an affair and if I were to guess, I was conceived before the nuptials.”

He could see the pain in her face, her features taut with strain. It made him ache for her. “My father wed my mother by choice but he still held no affection for me or my sister. I don’t think it was specific to us. He didn’t like anyone. He took every chance he could to tell us we were worthless, bumbling idiots. And he attempted to beat us into better people.”

Her hand came back to his arm as she sucked in her breath. “How awful. I think if I had to choose, I’d take the blind neglect of my father.”

He nearly laughed. What an absurd conversation, trying to discern whose father was the worst. “That may be, but I suppose my father didn’t leave me penniless and on the street. I had an inheritance and a—” he’d been about to say title. He should have told her because now he was actively keeping it from her. It hadn’t seemed important yesterday and today, he’d been feeling strangely toward her. Like if she knew, she’d become Sarah all over again. “Life.”

If she noticed his hesitation she didn’t say, but her gaze held his without wavering as though she were studying him. “It doesn’t make up for the neglect from the people who are supposed to love you.” She hesitated, then she grasped his shoulder a little tighter. “I know that you will likely have more important things to do once I’ve taken up a position but I’d like it if we could still be friends. No one has ever given me the care you have out of the kindness of his heart and I only hoped to show my…affection…by returning some small kindness.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bloody hell he was a fool. She’d been attempting to offer him friendship and he’d accused her of being self-serving. “My only excuse is that I don’t have much experience with people giving me love. Except Camille of course. Clearly, I don’t recognize the gesture.” And once upon a time, he’d thought Sarah genuinely cared for him and not just his title.

Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical
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