He said very calmly, “The last time we made love, if I recall aright, you were lying on your left side. You were very responsive to me, no, more than that, you were wild for me. But you were protected, were you not, Victoria? I never demanded that you turn onto your back or your stomach. I never demanded to touch all of you, to kiss all of you.”
“I was afraid,” she said, “I was afraid you would be repelled if you knew, if you saw me.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
She sucked in her breath on a cry of pain. Not pain from her leg, but pain from deep inside her. “Go away,” she said, knowing that she was beyond her tether. “Just go away.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “I believe I shall. But before I do, I’ll finish what I started.” He sat down beside her, pulled off the blankets and the towel. He looked down at her thigh, reddened now from the hot towels, then gently probed along the long jagged scar. “No more muscle spasms,” he said.
She held herself silent.
He merely nodded, and covered her again. He stood, looking down at her for a brief moment, his expression distant. “You should sleep now,” he said. He turned on his heel and left the bedchamber.
She stared at the closed door. Slowly, out of long-ingrained habit, she began to massage her left thigh.
She didn’t sleep, nor had she any intention of sleeping. After a few more minutes she raised herself and swung her legs over the side of the bed. No pain in her thigh. She put her weight on her leg. Still no pain. It was over, this time.
Within ten minutes she was dressed again. She imagined that Toddy wasn’t yet back at the stables. It didn’t matter. She would walk to Fletcher’s Pond.
She fell quickly asleep against the trunk of a maple tree, Clarence’s irritated squawking sounding in her ears. She hadn’t thought to bring bread, and now she was to be punished. His cousins joined in the din, and there was a smile on her lips as she dozed off.
She awoke suddenly, clearheaded. She shivered slightly, for the sun wasn’t shining on her anymore. In that instant before she opened her eyes, she knew that Rafael was standing over her, blocking the sun. She opened her eyes. His legs were spread, his hands on his hips. The buckskin breeches became him, she thought, her eyes traveling down the length of him. He was hard and muscular and lean, and no matter how furious she ever was at him, she was at the same time fully aware of his male beauty. His Hessians glistened as black as his hair, with the sun haloing his head, and his eyes were a rich and vivid gray.
He said very quietly, “However can you sleep with all this racket?”
“I’m used to Clarence. He’s angry at me for forgetting his bread.”
“Clarence?”
“As in the Duke of Clarence. That very substantial fellow over there, howling the loudest.”
Rafael chuckled. “As in fat and waddles. Our royal duke wouldn’t be pleased.”
“He’s amiable when fed sufficient bread.”
“Yes,” Rafael said. Silence fell between them. Clarence waddled back to the bank of the pond, then slid into the water, not making a sound. Rafael said at last, “Tell me about it.”
She merely stared up at him.
“Tell me about how and when it happened.”
He sat beside her, leaning back against the trunk of the maple tree. He said nothing more, merely looked straight ahead at Clarence and his family members.
“I was nearly eight years old. I was riding, always riding, and I was quite good. I had no groom, indeed, I considered myself quite grown-up at eight. I was also unlucky that day. My pony was stung by a bee, so ridiculous really, and he threw me against a fence. Unfortunately there was a nail sticking out from the fence and it slashed down my leg.” She paused for a moment, remembering and feeling again that awful pain, the shock that followed, making her white and dizzy.
“And then?”
“I rode back to Abermarle Manor. Just as I arrived, I was told that my parents were dead.” Her voice was calm, detached, and Rafael wondered at it. “I didn’t know what to do. So I did nothing. It was the next morning that my older cousin found me and saw the blood on my gown from my leg. His name was Michael and he must have been all of twenty years old at the time. He took care of me, but it was a bit late. At least I didn’t have to have my leg cut off.” He flinched at that, but said nothing. Victoria continued in that same calm detached voice, “It was soon after that that I was sent to my Uncle Montgomery and his family. Elaine was their youngest and the only child at home. She was only five years older than I. Her father, though, wasn’t my guardian, something I’ve never really understood. Well, my leg healed eventually, but when I overexert or do something stupid, it cramps and knots up.”
“You make it sound very inconsequential,” he said. He could see the young girl in his mind’s eye, riding home on her pony, in terrible pain, only to be greeted with a pain that seared the soul. No, not inconsequen
tial, she’d made him see her pain, but she’d been careful not to let herself hurt him. He drew in a deep breath in response to his thoughts. “How did your parents die?”
“In a carriage accident. A wheel came off, and the carriage, the driver, and the horses all went over a cliff.”
“My parents were killed by the French. But I guess you already know that.”
“Yes, I know that they were on board an English ship bound for Spain to visit your mother’s parents in Seville.” She paused a moment, but didn’t turn to face him. “I know you haven’t just been a simple sea captain, Rafael. I think you’ve worked for the government, against Napoleon, because of your parents, to avenge them perhaps.”