Conspiring with a Rogue (42 page)

“
Whitney,” he whispered.

“
Shh…” She smoothed back his wet hair as his eyes opened and his dark gaze found hers.
Dear God
, she had thought herself so noble, so sacrificing to flee Drake in order to save him, but she wasn’t that noble at all. Deep down—deep where she had buried the black memory that her own mother had chosen her lover over her children—dwelled a vicious, poisonous fear that Drake would not pick her either. She leaned down and kissed Drake’s lips. He smiled and his eyes fluttered closed once again.

“
What if he decides his business is more important than me?” she whispered, embarrassed to be admitting the fear out loud.

Sin squeezed her leg. “Then at least you’ve let him make the choice.”

She took a deep breath and wiped her moist palms on her sopping wet trousers. She was going to do it. She was going to risk her heart being irreparably broken to tell Drake the truth.

Her heart thumped wildly with fear and anticipation.

Whitney struggled to breathe normally until the moment the surgeon assured her Drake was not in danger of dying. The man attributed Drake’s weakness to a combination of the hit he took on his head and the shock from being shot. With a fierce scowl, the surgeon started to get down to the business of examining Drake. As he worked, he muttered about the impropriety of so many people being in his patient’s bedchamber. Lillian tugged on Whitney’s sleeve and motioned her toward the door.

She followed Lillian out of Drake’s bedroom and down the hall. Once at the entrance to Drake’s townhome, Lillian stopped and turned to Whitney. “I think I’d better be going.”

Whitney examined her friend’s pinched face. No doubt Lillian was a little nervous about facing her entire family and having to recount everything that had happened to her. Whitney squeezed Lillian’s hand. “You’re going to be all right.”

Lillian nodded. “Don’t worry about me. Now that Lord Cadogan is dead, I’ve nothing to fear in the future besides Father undoubtedly refusing to let me out of his sight ever again, my mother stalking my every move, and my brothers appointed as chaperones every minute I’m awake.” She laughed nervously.

Whitney hugged Lillian to her. “We’ve so much to talk about. I want to go with you, but…”

Lillian pulled back and kissed Whitney on the cheek. “I wouldn’t allow it. You know where to find me when Mr. Sutherland is all better. I’m not going anywhere, and I pray—” Lillian’s gaze searched Whitney’s—“you’re not either.”

“
No.” She had made her decision, and she would stick to it. Whatever would be would be. She wasn’t sure whether to be relived the lying was about to be over or terrified that Drake would not choose her over his company. Both emotions settled in her chest, making deep breaths difficult.

The tap of shoes against the hardwood alerted her to Sin’s arrival. He walked down the hall toward them, his face set in determined lines. “I’ve got to go home, change and see to a few pressing matters, but I’ll be back very soon.” Sin turned to Lillian. “I can take you home if you wish.”

“
As long as you don’t drive too fast, drink or use any of your normally crass language,” Lillian agreed with a mischievous smile.

Whitney sighed with relief at her friend’s old humor displaying itself. Whatever had happened to Lillian, her indomitable spirit was still intact. Lil would be fine. Whitney prayed she could say the same for herself.

Sin’s hearty chuckle interrupted Whitney’s musings. “I’ll do my best to accommodate your demanding requirements,” Sin teased Lillian. Surprised at his unusual playfulness, Whitney studied her cousin. Suddenly, he appeared unusually happy. The sullen face he so often wore had been replaced by a true smile and glittering gaze. No doubt a certain raven-haired wench with a penchant for finding trouble was responsible for Sin’s metamorphosis. “Is one of the pressing matters you’re seeing to perchance Lady Audrey?”

A slight smile pulled at her cousin’s lips. “Perhaps,” he said, squeezing her shoulder.

Sin disappeared out the door after Lillian. Whitney watched the carriage roll out of the drive and down the road until she could no longer see it. Drake’s words from the embankment echoed relentlessly through her head.
I don’t need anyone’s help. Not now or ever.
Every time her mind replayed the words, her gut clenched tighter, her breath would not come, and her throat ached with fear. She prayed telling him the truth was the right thing to do.

She turned and walked silently through the halls. Outside Drake’s bedroom door, she paused. She shouldn’t go in. It wasn’t proper and the surgeon would be cross, but since when had she been concerned with propriety? Opening the door, she slipped into the room and nodded toward Dr. Peters, who looked up from examining Drake to scowl at her. She didn’t care what he thought of her being there. She was not leaving. Not yet, anyway.

Glancing around the bedroom for a place to sit, she blinked in surprise to see a small boy huddled in a chair against the wall. She walked over to the boy and sat beside him. Smiling shyly, he held a blanket out to her.

“
Thank you.” She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she took in the boy’s appearance. Soft brown eyes, freshly trimmed hair, and from all appearances a new pair of trousers and shirt. “Who are you?”

“
Danny. Mr. Sutherland took me in.” He smiled shyly. “Are you Lady Whitney?”

She nodded. “How do you know my name?”

“
Mr. Sutherland told me all about you and how much he
loves
you.” The boy dragged the word
love
out and made coughing and gagging sounds.

“
Drake told you about me?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. It was unlike Drake to discuss how he felt.

“
He had to.” The boy sat up straight, pride evident in the squaring of his shoulders and lifting of his chin. “I tricked him into it. He wanted to know all about me, but I don’t tell nothing without getting something in return. Do you see?”

She did. Drake had taken in the child for some reason and made the boy feel as if he had the upper hand, thereby allowing the child to feel safe. Across the room, Drake muttered a curse at the surgeon. She smiled gently at the boy, wanting to know his story, wanting to hear a bit about Drake that she may have never gotten to hear if she hadn’t met this boy. She’d known Drake had a kind heart, but he obviously had a great love for children.

She took the boy’s small hand in hers. “Danny, since you know all about me, will you tell me a bit about you?”

Danny pursed his lips then finally nodded. “That seems fair, I suppose.”

She leaned against the deep cushion of the chair as Danny told her about his mother who had abandoned him and then been found dead and his drunkard father who sometimes beat him, rarely fed him and often made him beg on the street for what sparse food the child could get to fill his belly.

She listened to his unfolding tale of sadness and how gentle and kind Drake had been to him, and her heart ached with love. Drake was the best, most kindhearted man she had ever known, and he deserved to have all the dreams that had helped him survive his own terrible childhood come true.

Everything around her blurred away, and she simply breathed in and out for a while, trying to retain her tenuous hold on her emotions. Beside her, Danny drifted into slumber, his head lolled back, his mouth slightly open. She allowed her mind to wander to fanciful things such as where she and Drake would live and what their children would look like. Of course, the boys would have their father’s strong build and hopefully the girls would have his dark brown eyes. She sighed and prayed her fantasies would become her reality.

“
I’m finished,” the surgeon pronounced loudly, jerking her back to awareness of her surroundings.

Whitney scrambled to her feet and over to Drake’s bed just in time to see the sheet that had been covering his chest fall to his waist as he sat up. She gulped at the display of hard muscles that rippled as he moved. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she shook off her stupor to reach behind him and fluff the pillows.

He grabbed her hand, his warm fingers lacing through her own. His fingers curled slowly around hers and he squeezed ever so slightly. Her body trembled with desire and fear. She wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. Would he risk everything to keep her there?

The doctor put a bracing hand on Drake’s shoulder. “You should rest.”

Drake nodded and looked pointedly at Whitney. His gaze started at her face, then crept slowly down her body until her cheeks burned with understanding.

The surgeon coughed discreetly and gathered up his instruments, stuffing them in his bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check your dressing.” He scowled at Drake. “Don’t do anything too strenuous today. You’ve been shot, for God’s sake, and you have a nasty bump on your head.”

“
I promise,” Drake vowed solemnly, crossing his fingers over the top of Whitney’s hand.

Her heart fluttered at the wicked smile on his face, and her loins pooled with warmth. Before the door closed on the surgeon’s departing figure, Drake pulled Whitney down beside him onto the bed. “Come lie with me,” he demanded thickly.

“
Drake.” She tugged against his firm grip on her arm to no avail. “What about Danny?” She may be snubbing societal rules but she didn’t want to corrupt a child.

“
Phelps!” Drake yelled, making her squeal in surprise.

The door to Drake’s bedchamber burst open, and Drake’s aging butler ran in faster than she had ever suspected he could move. “Sir? Shall I get the surgeon back?”

“
No, Phelps.” Drake released Whitney’s arm. “You and Danny retire and catch up on the rest you missed last night.”

“
Yes, sir.” Phelps scooped the sleeping child into his arms before departing the room.

She settled onto the bed beside Drake and ran a hand though his hair.

He grabbed both her arms, pulled her on top of him and circled his arms around her back. “I love the idea of having you to look out for me the rest of my life.” His heat enveloped her; his smell, saltwater and sweat, surrounded her. When he pushed her hair off her neck and the air hit her skin at the same time his lips brushed a soft, sensual kiss across the exposed flesh she inhaled sharply, savoring the moment. Keenly aware that tomorrow she may no longer have him in her life, she touched the stubble on his face, the hard line of his jaw, the slant of his cheekbone, and finally ran her hands to his thickly muscled shoulders. She gripped him, desperate to treasure the moment.

“
I want to ravish you,” he whispered fiercely in her ear as he nipped at the soft skin and flamed her own desperate need to join with him. Turning her head, her mouth met his in a hot, hungry kiss.

He cupped her breasts and circled his fingers slowly over her nipples, rubbing them lightly above the cotton of his shirt that she wore. A throbbing ache built inside her, which he answered by trailing a hand lightly over her belly and between her thighs. “Whitney, my love, my sweet. I need to be inside you.”

“
I need you too,” she moaned, shifting to his side and trailing her hand to his groin, her fingers slipping under the sheet and curling around the hard length of him. His breath hissed out in a rush.

He turned on his side and reached for the buttons of her shirt, his fingers easily undoing them in seconds. The shirt parted, cool air caressing her burning skin, and his hands reached out and cupped both of her breasts in a gentle hold that somehow changed into his thumbs circling and tracing her sensitive nipples. “Should we talk first?” he asked, surprising her.

She shook her head. “We have the rest of our lives to talk.”
Let it be so
. But if he did not choose her, no matter how long she lived, there would never be anyone for her but him. This moment would be her constant companion in all the lonely nights to come if he chose his life’s work over her. Blame or hate would be unpardonable. She knew the price if he did risk everything for her and then refused to take her help. He could be left with nothing but her love.

His hands slid to the makeshift belt that held his trousers on her, and his fingers pulled at the twined rope until the knot slid undone. “Undress for me?”

She nodded and scooted off the bed, her toes curling into the carpet. With trembling fingers, she fumbled to undo the buttons of her trousers until she finally managed to release them all. They slid to the floor in a puddle at her feet. A devilish smile curved his lips as his gaze raked over her body and left her burning straight to her core.