“Terrifying?”
“...and shaped like a peach,” he murmured, as his hand slid down to said peach and pulled her up against him. They were alive, and they were going to use their bodies to celebrate it.
Chapter Nine
Mrs. Hardy and Mrs. Durand had looked in on her before going to bed, reassuring themselves that she’d been provided with everything she needed, and that she remained certain of her mission.
Aurelie had quietly soothed their concerns and thanked them.
And now she was alone with Mr. Bellingham.
The room was dark apart from lanterns flanking the bed. Both were turned down low.
He seemed to have flung off a coverlet; it was heaped near his hip. Mr. Bellingham was bare to the waist, and the lamps tinted his torso gold. He still wore trousers, but they were unbuttoned, already loose, and they’d been folded at the waist and pulled down a little lower, away from his wound. One of his arms was bent at the elbow, his loosely curled fist near his cheek, and his face was turned toward it. The other arm rested at his side, palm up. His head was tipped; his profile, cleanly, elegantly articulated against the white pillow. His lashes shivered against his cheeks. He was sleeping.
A wide, thick bandage had been wound neatly and carefully round him, and it remained white, which was a relief. His wound had been stitched well. He wasn’t losing blood.
She didn’t know the histories of everyone now sleeping under the roof of The Grand Palace on theThames. But no one had been there to protect Mr. Bellingham when he’d been attacked, and in this she felt a kinship with him. She wanted very much to be with someone who understood precisely what that was like to be attacked without the ability to defend. To be stripped of one’s pride and humanity. To have no choice but to endure it.
Caring for him was a defiance, of sorts. Almost a radical act. It was a declaration to herself of who she was and who she always meant to be, no matter what had been done to her: she would do no harm. She would always be kind. She wouldnotbe afraid. She could not be broken.
It was violence inverted.
But paintings and statues in all their detailed bareness had not quite prepared her for the breathing flesh of the beautiful, battered man on the bed. Her breath stilled in her lungs; she could feel in her every cell a surge, a bracing, as if withstanding a burst of music. His earthy, foreign male beauty stunned at first. Then unnerved. And enthralled.
So hard, his forearms and his shoulders, the taut bulging slopes of them. His chest, carved in sections of muscles, furred lightly in curling dark hair, rose and fell with his breath. The furred hollow of his armpit. The dark coins of his nipples.
His torso with a faint sheen of sweat.
He looked built for, and capable of, violence.
Perhaps strength was a better word.
But his face was sweet in repose.
She gathered her nerve and laid her hand on his fine forehead.
He was still unnervingly hot. She left her palm there, as if she could cool him with just the force of her will. With a simple touch.
How odd the instinct had been to reach for and touch another human in a moment of terror. She hadn’t known she would do that; there had never been anyone there for her. She supposed instinctive hope lingered in every human, regardless of how life had shaped them: that someone would be there for them when needed.
She didn’t think she’d ever forget how Captain Hardy had come for Mrs. Hardy today.
He stirred a little, his legs shifting. He turned his head slightly.
“Aurelie,” he murmured.
She froze. Her heart leaped into her throat in terror.
Gingerly, very, very slowly lifted her hand from his forehead.
She stared, mouth parted in shock, her breath coming short.
His eyes remained closed.
No: she must have heard it wrong. Surely he’d said something like “Emily.” If he’d indeed said a name at all. Although an Emily hadn’t been mentioned in his letter. Perhaps he’d been attempting to call for Eleanor the chicken. Who would surely miss him if he died.
For some reason it was this that made the tears start up. She pushed them roughly away. What use were they to her? What did they solve?