Rebellious Bride (21 page)

Lil didn’t allow her father to see her relief when she discovered his wound was minor. “Your apology isn’t necessary, Dad. You provided me with much more than I ever dreamed of having.”

He seemed surprised. “I don’t understand.”

“A few stitches should take care of this,” she said before offering an explanation. “You gave me freedom, self-confidence, the ability to be my own person. I am proud of my intelligence, and I never want to stop learning.”

“You always were too big for your britches,” Sam teased and relaxed under his daughter’s tender ministrations.

Lil laughed and stopped her stitching for a moment. “I’ll always remember my childhood with fond memories. We had our share of tears, but we sure had our share of laughter too. And the best part was that I could always count on getting my way with you.”

“You were persuasive, a real little charmer with that thatch of strawberry blond hair and that sweet yet conniving smile.”

“It always got me my way.” She grinned and continued stitching.

“Until recently,” Sam added.

“Feeling guilty about forcing me to wed?”

Sam shook his head. “Not in the least. It was about time you settled down.”

Lil finished off the last stitch, the wound taking only three in all. “I’ll let you know when I’ve settled down, Dad.”

Sam laughed. “Giving Lord Sherborn a rough time?”

Lil washed her hands in the porcelain basin filled with clean water. “Let’s just say I’m being myself.”

“You’re giving him a rough time,” Sam said in agreement with himself.

“I heard he and that manservant of his attended Dora’s wake with you.”

Lil shook her head in disbelief. That had been three weeks ago and the town still buzzed with gossip about it. “Yes, they kindly joined me in paying my respects.”

“Talk is that Rolfe treated you right decent. Held you close while you viewed Dora for the last time and stayed beside you while you visited with the other folks there. The women can’t get over his attention to you, and they certainly can’t get over that Jonathan fellow. Said he took control and served up right tasty food. He even waited on a few folks.”

Lil smiled, remembering her husband’s and Jonathan’s attentive behavior. Rolfe had made her feel special. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts and understand precisely what she needed—his arm around her for support, a cup of tea, a gentle touch, a plate of food, a reassuring squeeze of her hand. He had provided every ounce of support she needed and more, especially that evening when he had made such tender love to her.

Tears had once again filled her eyes. “It was a difficult time for me. Rolfe helped me through it, and Jonathan lent his support as well,” she explained.

“I’m glad he was there for you,” Sam said.

Lil tied off the bandage and looked at her father. She felt like a little girl again, having a problem and needing to talk to her daddy. But how do you ask your daddy how to get a man to love you?

“Lil?” he questioned, his hand touching her face, reading the anxiety in her expression.

“Sam!” Holly burst through the door, out of breath. Her blue wool jacket hung half on her and half off her as though she had attempted to slip into it but had difficulty and had given up. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes wide with concern. She hurried over to Sam. “Are you all right? I heard you got into it with a drifter on the street and got cut up.”

“A minor wound,” Lil assured the frantic woman and stepped back away from her father. The supportive look he sent her touched her heart and said clearly that whenever she needed him, he’d be there for her.

“Now, don’t go worrying yourself, Holly,” he said, his good arm going around her and beneath her coat to squeeze her full waist. “I got myself some right good doctoring here.”

“He is all right, isn’t he, Lil?” Holly asked anxiously, leaning closer to Sam.

She loves him.
The thought hit Lil without warning, but she recovered and rushed to answer. “He’s fine, honest. But I’d best warn you that he’ll play this for all he can just so you’ll smother him with attention.”

Holly smiled and raked her fingers through Sam’s thick, dark hair. “I’ll give him as much attention as he wants.”

“That could prove dangerous,” Sam whispered, though not so low that Lil didn’t catch it.

She watched Holly and her father. A sexual attraction existed between them, but they loved each other as well. It was so obvious that a person would need to be blind not to see it. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and their eyes practically smoldered from the heat that was generated between them. She shook her head. She had always thought them attracted to each other, but love? How had she failed to notice it? Had her changing circumstances with Rolfe made her more attentive to relationships and their strange workings? Confusion with the whole situation brought a soft sigh to her lips, and she turned to put away some bottles and give her father and Holly privacy.

“Lil!”

Lil jumped and spun around at the sound of her husband’s troubled voice. “What’s wrong?”

Rolfe looked at Sam and Holly, then at his wife. ‘‘I heard about your father’s injury. I wanted to make certain you were all right.”

Holly giggled softly against Sam’s face. Sam just smiled.

Lil, deep in her own musings, misunderstood. “My father’s fine. He suffered only a minor wound.”

Rolfe gave a gentle shake of his head and walked past Sam whispering, “Your daughter tries my patience.”

Lil’s mind continued to drift, especially with Rolfe present.
Wicked.
Her thoughts were always wicked when he was around. Even now in his stuffy attire her body responded. Her flesh tingled and quivered in the most intimate places as though by his mere presence he had brought her to life. Actually more so; lurking beneath his restrained façade she knew perfectly well lay a most unrestrained lover.

Rolfe took the brown bottle from her hand, his fingers faintly brushing her skin, and returned it to the lower shelf of the cabinet behind her. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Almost,” she answered, hesitating to catch her breath a minute, his caress having been so light, yet so potent. She hurried on in her speech, needing to distance herself from her aroused feelings. “I need to make a brief stop at the Johnsons’ place. Billy’s sister, Jen, has a sore throat, and I promised her mother I would stop by and check on her.”

“I’ll go with you.” His tone was not one of command. He simply announced that he would accompany her and confirmed his intentions even further by untying her bib apron and slipping it off over her head, catching the bib band on her ear. He gently ran his finger beneath the band, lifting it off while following a teasing path over the captured and highly responsive area.

Lil’s breath hung suspended somewhere in her throat.

Was he tormenting her on purpose? Seeing how far he could tease her into surrender? And how could he behave so reprehensibly in front of her father and Holly?

She made to move away from him, deciding retreat was her best course of action, but he stilled her with a hand on her upper arm. She looked down at his fingers crushing the white cotton of her blouse sleeve against her skin. Long and powerful in their strength, they were wrapped around her like bands of steel. And Lil suddenly thought of a slave bracelet, its presence branding forever its ownership, never to be removed.

She shivered over the loss of her freedom, which was being replaced by complete control. With that chill of fear running through her, she forced herself to meet his eyes, knowing unmistakably what she’d see there.

Captured.
That’s what his striking blue eyes did to a woman. They captured her, imprisoned her in their intensity and promise.

Lil fought the desire and the urge to surrender that raged through her. She couldn’t relinquish any more to this man...her husband. She could not allow him this power over her.

She had to remain her own person, in control, free... .

His kiss was unexpected. It startled her, and she stumbled back. His other hand grabbed her free arm, and he swept her up against him. His kiss quickly possessed her, robbing her of breath and her senses simultaneously.

Her father and Holly, what would they think? Lil pushed at his chest, though her efforts were weak and were delivered halfheartedly. Those efforts were hastily replaced by hardy shoves when Rolfe’s hand moved to her breast and gently squeezed its fullness.

“Easy, Lillian. We’re alone,” Rolfe said, refusing to relinquish the soft swell of her, cupped so intimately in his hand.

Relief washed over her. She leaned into her husband and relaxed. “I didn’t hear them leave.”

Rolfe kissed her temple. “They exited quietly.”

Lil didn’t stop him from fondling her; she quite enjoyed it. He always managed to peak her buds with a mere flick of his fingers; a flick that sent a shiver or two through her and rushed her other vital parts into ardent attention.

“I love the feel of you, Lillian,” he whispered and placed a kiss on her temple once again before easing her away from him. “Shall we see to Billy’s sister so we can proceed—”

“Home?” Lil concluded, soothing her disappointment in his restraint by teasing him.

Rolfe studied her for a second, then scanned the room and reached for the knobby white buttons on her blouse. “That examination table looks strong enough to hold two, or we could be decadent and try Doc’s chair, though the wheels might present a problem.”

Lil shoved his hands away and hurried away from him, her fingers busy closing the three buttons his agile fingers had opened. “I’d better see to Jen.”

Rolfe came up behind her, his arms slipping around hers and his hands fighting with hers as she worked to button the last remaining button. “We can be quick.”

She slapped at him and scolded her voice as playful as his hands. “Really, Lord Sherborn, there’s a proper time and a proper place for such things.”

He spun her around to face him. “To bloody hell with proper.” He hugged her waist and lifted her to the examination table, plopping her down upon it.

“Rolfe, we can’t,” she insisted, fighting him off with an ineffective shove to his chest.

“We can,” he corrected and ran his hand up beneath her skirt to where her stocking met her bloomers. Slowly his fingers crawled beneath the ruffled band around her thigh.

“Rolfe!” Lil protested, her voice a high squeal.

He kissed her, lingering in a gentle play along her lower lip before whispering, “Surrender to me, Lil. Surrender yourself completely.”

She was tempted, so tempted to submit to him, to cast aside all barriers, to give herself freely without any restrictions. To lie back on this hard wooden table where she so often tended to people and to allow her husband to...

“Lil!” an anxious voice called from the outer room.

She pushed at her husband’s hand beneath her skirt, urging him away as she moved to hop off the table.

He stayed her with a gentle squeeze to her thigh. “I’ll have my answer soon.”

“Lil!”

Rolfe had deposited her on her feet when Billy rushed through the door. “Ma said I was to bring you right away. Jen’s fever’s gone up. Hi, Lord Sherborn, you can come too, if you want.”

Lil collected a few bottles and added them to the already prepared bag on the desk. “I might be a while. You can head home if you prefer.”

“I’ll go with you.” Rolfe’s brisk tone warned her that arguing would do no good.

Billy settled it for them without any further discussion on their part. “That’s great, your lordship. Then I can show you my whittling. I just started whittling a few months back, so I ain’t—”

“I’m not,” Lil corrected, taking her brown wool cape from the hook near the door.

Billy obliged her with a shrug of his shoulders, then said to Lord Sherborn, “I’m not real good at it yet.”

“I’d like to see your whittling, Billy,” Rolfe said, reaching for Lil’s bag and walking off with it and Billy before Lil could offer a protest.

“Did you walk here, Billy?” Lil asked as Rolfe helped her into the buggy.

“Ran,” he said, beating his skinny chest proudly.

“How about riding back?” Rolfe offered. He didn’t need to ask twice. Like a flash Billy was in the backseat of the buggy.

Lil had refined the art of watching people from the corner of her eye. Sometimes it was necessary when dealing with an injured patient and those surrounding him. It was a handy skill, especially now as she cast a sideways glance at her husband.

He had placed his silver-tipped cane to rest beside him against the seat. She still couldn’t imagine why he carried it. It served no purpose except to make him appear pompous. He took the reins and guided the horses away from the post. He was gentle yet masterful in his command, and the animals obeyed without hesitation. But then, his hands did have a way of making one surrender.

Lil shifted her glance slowly to his face, and her cheeks flamed when he sent her a quick wink. He had known all along she’d been studying him, and the embarrassing thought rushed heat to further fire her cheeks. She was only somewhat relieved when Billy sprang forward between them and started talking.

“Didn’t know you knew how to handle horses, your lordship,” Billy said, scratching his head. “You’re doing a mighty fine job of it, too. Can you ride?”

“Call me Rolfe, Billy,” he said, following the road out of town.

“You mean it?” Billy asked, bouncing with excitement in his seat and shoving his pointing finger between them. “Take the first right after the bend in the road.”

Rolfe nodded his acknowledgment of the boy’s directions. “Yes, I mean it. And yes, I do know how to handle a horse.”

Lil grinned, recalling the riding accident he had suffered a short time after his arrival in Little. It appeared that Lord Sherborn had improved his skills.

“Something amuses you, Lillian?” Rolfe asked, causing Billy to turn his attention to her.

Before she could answer, Billy jumped in with his own conclusions. “I bet she’s remembering that accident you had when she had to sew you up. The whole town was talking about it. Some of the men even made bets to see how long you’d last here.”