Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3)

“Wake up for me darling.” Eliza didn’t move and he tipped his head down until he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow, but there was no twitching of her eyelids to show she was even aware he was there. This was no sleep.

Fear began to claw at him as he finally saw the swinging sign above the large Jacobean structure that was the Hare and Hound. With the end in sight, he nudged his horse forwards and within moments drew to a halt in the stable yard.

Sliding off the horse, he drew Eliza’s limp form into his arms, shouting orders for the ostler to get a doctor before striding into the inn.

“Edward?”

Edward turned at the sound of the blessedly familiar voice and heaved a sigh of relief as Peter strode towards him.

“Peter, thank God.” He sighed. “Did you secure rooms for us?”

“Everything’s all sorted.” Dominic replied, ushering them towards the stairs.

“Jemima?” Peter’s voice was shocked as he stared at the woman in Edward’s arms.

Edward froze. His stomach sank to his boots as he stared at the mixture of shock and delight on Peter’s face. Slowly his gaze lowered to the unconscious woman in his arms and felt a sense of betrayal so deep he wanted to shout out a gut-wrenching denial.

He glanced up in horror at Peter as he drew near.

“Please tell me this isn’t Jemima?” Everything within him was locked on Peter’s face as he waited for the inevitable response. His world tipped in turmoil as the horrendous possibility of having to hand her over to Peter and stand back loomed menacingly before him. Briefly he hated Peter for his hold on her.

“It’s Jemima.” Peter whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he stared down at the woman Edward was holding.

Edward felt sick and stared in disbelief at his friend, feeling his heart break.

“Let’s get her upstairs.” Dominic suggested moving forwards to stare down at the haunting beauty Edward carried. He was unsure what was going on but the pain both men were experiencing was clear to see, and he was unwilling to allow either Peter or Edward to put on any more of a show for the tap room’s occupants.

Edward climbed the stairs, glad for the brief opportunity to try to get his stunned emotions under control. He protectively curled his arms around the woman he held, pulling her tight against his heart, and wondered if he should just hold on to her and refuse to allow Peter near. He stood silently and watched Peter swing a door open before standing back for Edward to pass through with his precious burden.

Inside the small, yet clean room Edward placed Eliza – Jemima - on the bed and slowly withdrew his arms from around her. The bitter pang of regret that stole through him as he put distance between them shook him to his very soul. He hadn’t wanted to feel so deeply about anyone – especially the woman on the bed, but despite his best intentions she had more of an impact on him than he had realised. Not only did he have strong suspicions he was in love with her, she now belonged to the man standing on the opposite side of the bed. The knowledge brought physical hurt that threatened to unman him.

His face was carved in stone as he stood on the opposite side of the bed and watched Peter study her face closely, a frown on his face. Dominic and Sebastian entered the room and moved to stand at the end of the bed, watching Peter in consternation.

“What is it?” Dominic demanded, his voice sharp.

“This isn’t Jemima.” Peter’s voice was a stark whisper in the silence of the room, laced with disappointment and confusion.

“What?” Edward snapped, raising surprised eyes to meet Peter’s.

“She looks so much like Jemima it is startling, but Jemima had a small cut above her right eye – here – that she got as a child. This woman doesn’t have any cut. See?” Peter gently lifted a curled tendril of hair of her unmarked brow.

“She is Eliza, the younger sister to your Jemima.” Edward replied softly, shaken by the force of relief that that swept through him.

“Where did you find her?” Peter questioned, studying the emotions on Edward’s face in understanding.

“Derby.” Edward replied, arching his back against the fierce ache there. Now he had stopped, his muscles were protesting against the strain of the past few days. He could sense Peter’s next question. “Jemima disappeared from there two weeks ago.”

They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Moments later Dominic motioned the small man enter and after Edward gave him details of the accident they left to wait for his diagnosis. Within moments he was being ushered out, secure in the knowledge that she was at least receiving the medical care she needed, and she was indeed who she said she was. Everything else suddenly didn’t seem all that important.

While waiting for the doctor’s diagnosis, Edward spent an hour bringing his brothers up to date on events so far. The wave of relief when the doctor reported that apart from deep bruising Eliza was fine had shook him to the core and he found himself making his excuses, desperately needing several moments alone to deal with his shattered emotions.

Edward slipped down into the steaming water of a long awaited bath with a huge sigh of pleasure. His protesting muscles began to soften as the silken glide of the water began to soothe the aching flesh. Although his flesh was relaxed, his mind was a raging torrent of emotions he struggled to make sense of.

He tried not to think of his first few minutes in the inn; loathed to consider those grief-stricken moments when he had thought she belonged to another. The pain had been so sharp it had threatened to buckle his knees.

He considered the events of the past few days, and wondered if he really could rely upon his feelings for her. After all he was a man; a gentleman who had been taught to look after those weaker than him. He knew the dangers she faced. It was inevitable that he should feel a deep protectiveness towards her. He had done nothing over the past few days he wouldn’t have done for Amelia and Izzy, and he cared for them without being deeply in love with them. It was the safe with Eliza, wasn’t it?