Raven (Gentlemen of the Order 2) - Page 73

“I shall dedicate my life to ensuring your happiness.”

Sophia pushed away from the bed lest she crumple to the floor, a blubbering wreck. Sunrise was but an hour away. The day would bring more answers, more guilt, more pain. While in this morbid mood, and with the end of the nightmare in sight, she could almost feel Finlay slipping from her grasp.

She moved to the window and parted the curtains.

Gazing out over Mr Sloane’s verdant gardens made it easier to breathe. The sun sat deep below the horizon, the faint tint of yellow and orange a sign of its slow ascent. When Finlay was away in Belgium, she would stare at the sky for hours, hoping he was looking heavenward, too. It brought comfort, helped her believe they still shared a connection.

Feeling a sudden tug on the invisible thread binding them together, she glanced at the garden once more. That’s when she saw him—Finlay Cole—not in her mind’s eye, but strolling along the gravel path running between the formal beds. He looked lost, so alone, her heart cried out to him. She placed her palm on the glass as if it could heal his torment. His burden was heavy, indeed, for his gait seemed laboured. Only when he stopped to smell the roses did she notice he gripped a walking cane.

Finlay!

She hurried from the window and snatched her cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders as she descended the marble staircase. The urge to run to him left her breathless. Still, she navigated the corridors and darted out through the terrace doors.

What if he was ill—seriously ill?

What if she lost him and had to live a lifetime without hearing his voice, feeling his touch?

“Finlay!” She moved past the neat topiary hedge and saw his powerful, well-muscled figure in the distance. A desperate need to be wrapped in his embrace drove her forward. “Finlay!” she called louder.

He stopped and turned to face her.

Oh, Lord!

Never had he looked so handsome. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair. He wore nothing but a shirt and breeches beneath his greatcoat, the shirt loose and open at the neck, giving a glimpse of dark hair. Never had he looked so vulnerable. His mouth twisted in pain as he gripped the black walking cane. Those irresistible eyes of ebony looked dejected, forlorn.

Finlay Cole made a woman want to strip naked and part her legs, made a woman want to bandage his wounds and nurse his injuries.

“What are you doing out here?” His gaze drifted over the white nightgown visible beneath her blue cloak. “Could you not sleep?” A faint smile touched his lips. “Was the wind howling through the rafters?”

“No, it wasn’t the wind.”

“Then you’re worried about the mighty task ahead of us today.”

“It’s hard to believe this nightmare could soon be over, that tomorrow heralds the dawn of a new day.” She prayed tomorrow was a day of second chances. A day where they might look forward to the future. The thought drew her attention to the cane. “The pain in your leg, it’s more than a twinge.”

“It will pass. Kneeling in a moving carriage didn’t help.”

Her lips tugged into a smile at the delicious memory.

“You find something amusing about a man with an injury?” he teased.

“Forgive me. They should give a medal to those who suffer in the name of pleasure.”

“Yes, with an effigy of a temptress engraved into the metal. I would wear it with pride.”

“Temptress?” She gave a light chuckle. “I never set out to seduce you, Finlay. You kissed me first if you remember.”

“I remember,” he said, the husky whisper stirring something deep inside her.

“Might I walk with you?” Discussing their plans would alleviate her fears, and she longed for an opportunity to feel the heat of his lips. “As I’m partly to blame for your problem, perhaps you might like to use me as a crutch.”

Raven eyes, dark and mysterious, scanned her nightgown. He moistened his lips as if she were a slab of walnut cake, and he was keen to take a bite.

“I’m not an invalid, Sophia. I’m more than capable of sweeping you into my arms and carrying you upstairs.”

Her pulse thumped in her throat. “I don’t doubt your virility for a second.”

“Then walk with me. Tell me what troubles you.”

Tags: Adele Clee Gentlemen of the Order Historical
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