Page 66 of Outrageous

Andrew nodded, every emotion he was experiencing flitting across his sensitive features. “My uncle is an ironmonger—a very successful one—and wanted me to work for him.” He must have seen Godric’s amazement because he gave a weary smile. “No, not working forges or blast furnaces or anything dreadful like that. He wanted me to be his bookkeeper. But, er, well, I discovered some inconsistencies and when I went to ask him about them, he called me a liar and a thief and kicked me out.” He cut Godric a nervous look. “He had two partners, you see.”

“Ahh, and his partners weren’t aware of the inconsistencies?”

Andrew nodded. “I know now I was naïve to go to him. But then?” He shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone anything—although I suppose I should have.” Twin spots of embarrassment colored his narrow cheeks.

“Sometimes it is best to retreat and leave the fight for another day,” Godric said kindly.

Andrew gave him a grateful look, his Adam’s apple bobbing a few times before he continued. “I was packing my trunk when my three cousins—all ironworkers themselves—came to my room.” His mouth twisted with self-disgust. “I think their immediate plan was just to thrash me. But when they opened my trunk, they found the dress—and of course they’d seen the gun when I arrived. I suppose the urge was impossible to resist.” He cut Godric a remarkably dignified look. “The dress and gun are all I have left of my parents.”

Godric was grateful for the distraction of shoveling food into his mouth. Eva, on the other hand, was staring at the boy with her jaw hanging.

Godric gritted his teeth, dreading what might come out of her mouth.

But then, to his stunned amazement, she leapt from her chair and flung her arms around Andrew, her shoulder knocking his already damaged spectacles off his nose. “That is a horrid story. Why didn’t you tell me this before? I’m so sorry I was odious to you.”

Andrew’s horrified eyes met Godric’s over her shaking shoulders.

Godric mimed patting her on the back and nodded and smiled his encouragement when the boy hastily complied. He sagged back against the pillow; well, perhaps they might have a bit of peace, after all.

* * *

Eva felt like the lowest form of snake as she watched Andrew carry Godric’s empty tray from the room. Godric had asked him to do it so that Mrs. Crosby didn’t need to put herself out—at least that was what he’d told Andrew. As soon as the door closed, she went back to Godric’s bed but stopped when she realized how brazen that looked.

Godric yawned and then patted the bedding with one of his lovely hands, which now had swollen, torn, bloody knuckles. To her pleasant surprise he reached for her hand again when she sat.

“That was a nice thing you did for Andrew, offering him a place at your father’s house.”

She grimaced, holding his hand in her lap and studying it rather than look at his too-knowing eyes. “It was the least I could do after being so dreadful to him. I had no idea he’d had such a horrid time.” Her lower lip quivered. “If I’d known all that—”

“Shh,” he soothed, being so lovely to her it was making her feel even more anxious than when he was taunting and tormenting her. She risked a quick glance up, to find him regarding her with a strange, thoughtful look. She cocked her head. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She thought it was something, but he was not the sort of man to be forced into making confidences—or forced into anything, really. And the way he’d responded to the few personal questions she had asked made her leery of asking any others. Especially of asking the question that was now branded into her brain: Godric had been married?

“Why do you look so pensive?” he asked.

Eva wanted to ask him why he had the right to pose such questions when she didn’t, but she simply didn’t have the energy for it right now. Instead she said, “I hate to admit it, but I now think that Mrs. Crosby was probably right.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“About your staying in bed.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized how they could be construed. “I just meant that—”

He laid a big, warm hand over hers. “Shh.” He once again made the shushing sound that reminded her of that night. “I know my own body and it’s telling me I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t get up at least for a few hours.”

“Very well.” She grimaced and then chewed the inside of her mouth, her cheeks flushed.

“What is it, Eva?”

“It’s just that—well, Andrew was beside himself when we arrived and blurted out the name Lord Visel.”

“Ahhh, I see. Well, that’s not the biggest disaster of the day.” His smile was crooked because his lip was split on one side, and his left eye was almost swollen shut. And then there were the bruises that covered his face, neck, and—she knew firsthand—magnificent torso, but he was still handsome.

“But it shall make it more difficult if we change our minds,” she reminded him.

He frowned and then winced, raising a hand to the corner of his swollen eye. “Change our minds about what?” he asked absently as he pressed his fingertips lightly against the various injuries, as if testing to see how bad they were.

“Going to Scotland,” she said in a hushed voice, before realizing how stupid that was since they were alone.