Tananguard 02 - To Love a Lord (5 page)

She shook h
er head and wept softly. He didn’t know what to do, so he simply held her while she cried, not saying anything.

It wasn’t long before she pulled away from him abruptly. “Oh no!
I’m going to be sick!” she exclaimed, diving for the flowerbed where she promptly began heaving.

Connor cringed, feeling tempted to
simply walk away. He groaned as he walked over to her and held back the strands of hair that weren’t tied back in her bun.

It seemed an eternity he listen
ed to her vomit into her flowers. The sound was making him sick. Finally, the only sounds coming from her were quiet whimpers.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, smoothing her hair back off her forehead.

“Now I remember why I don’t drink,” she moaned. Slowly, she crawled backward away from her…flowers. She slumped onto the ground into the fetal position and simply lay there.

“
Miss Murrieta?” Connor waited for a response and didn’t receive one. “Sophia?” he then asked. Again no response. He touched her back.

“Leave me alone,” she grumbled.

He sighed. “I cannot. It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to leave you out here. I’m going to take you inside and see to your comforts.”

“
Just go. Don’t want…seeing…like this.”

Connor shook his head and picked her slight body up. She groaned in response, but slumped into him and allowed him to carry her inside. There was a small entryway through the front door
that led to an open living room. He spotted a sofa in there and carried Sophia to it. He laid her down and received a quiet snore in return. She was asleep!

“Fantastic,” Connor said sarcastically.
He looked around the living room and listened for anyone else in the house. He didn’t hear anything, but he decided not to chance it. “Hello?” he called out. “Anyone here? I have Sophia, and she is not in the best condition.” He listened for a response and concluded Sophia was home alone. He sighed, looking down at her. Her face was still dirty, and she still wore her gardening gloves. He crouched down next to the sofa and gently removed one glove at a time. He stared at her hands, examining the burn marks. He felt fortunate she had told him the story. He smoothed a thumb over the top of uneven skin. The scars were worse on her right hand than her left, even moving up the arm a bit as if it had gotten the brunt of the burn.

Sophia moaned and rolled over, pulling her hands from Connor’
s grasp and facing the sofa. Connor sighed as the comfort of her hands left his. Then he frowned.

This really was a precarious situation, he realized as disappointment settled in with the removal of her hand
s. He would never compromise her, but being alone in her home with her in the condition she was in was compromise enough. He should leave before any of her neighbors suspected foul play, or before her brother returned. He stood, intending to leave when he spotted a knitted blanket draped over a red, cushioned chair to his left. He grabbed it and placed it over Sophia. Instead of leaving as he planned, he sat down in the chair and watched the woman sleep.

It wasn’t long before he grew bored of this and began pacing the room, examining the different objects decorating it. The
fireplace centered the room with the sofa facing it and the red chair adjacent to the sofa. On the mantel above the fireplace was an intricately designed clock. He could tell by looking at it that it was an expensive piece. How did she come by it? He would have to ask her when she woke. He studied the rest of the room. There was a small, round table and four chairs off to the right of the sofa and beyond them was a door leading to another room. To the left of the fireplace was an entryway leading to a hall, and in the back corner of the room was a pianoforte. He wandered over to it and ran his fingers lightly over the keys. He considered playing, but he wasn’t very practiced. His mother had taught him until he was eight. Then she had left this life while giving birth to his younger sister. It saddened Connor that Allana wouldn’t grow up with music as he had. His mother had taught him to love the sound of it and appreciate those talented enough to create and produce it. Allana would not be one of those individuals.

Connor’s stomach growled and his mouth watered as a welcoming aroma wafted into the room. He stared at the door beyond the table
. Something very inviting was cooking in there, and Sophia was in no condition to check on it. He decided to be the gracious caregiver and investigate whatever was making that wonderful smell before it burned.

The door led to
the kitchen where food indeed was stewing on a black, kettle stove. He strode over to it and frowned. There was a lid he had to overcome before he could sample the feast. He perused the room casually, looking for a towel or anything he could lift that lid with. It seemed he opened every drawer and cupboard possible before he found what he was looking for. When he did, he griped in irritation. The potholder was right next to the stove in plain sight!

Connor lifted the lid and felt his mouth water yet again. The contents of that pot looked as good as it smelled. It was a wonderful looking stew filled with vegetables, beef, potatoes, carrots, squash, and
herbs. Quickly, he grabbed a large wooden spoon and scooped a potato into his mouth. He cursed as it burned his tongue, but that was quickly followed by a groan of pleasure as the potato melted in his mouth. Sophia wouldn’t be partaking of it any time soon and he couldn’t let a good meal go to waste. He would have some. He was, after all, taking care of her in her home. And it smelled and tasted so good! Yes, he was going to have some.

First he decided to check on Sophia. It would look bad if she woke up and found him in here devouring her food. He poked his head out the kitchen door and saw her in the same position he’d left her.
Satisfied, he slipped back into the kitchen and found everything he would need for a nice feast, including her half-full bottle of wine. The woman was a lightweight indeed if this was all it took to get her drunk. Connor transferred everything except the stew to the table in the other room before returning to the kitchen with a very large bowl that he filled to the brim with stew.

He ate in peace, actually enjoying the quiet of the small home. Sophia slept, making small noises here and there but nothing alarming. It was nice. He could see himself in a place like this with his wife
—no, Sophia—by his side, sharing a nice meal together. He smiled at the thought then jumped as someone banged on the front door. Sophia moaned but didn’t wake. Connor debated on getting it. It was going to look…alarming finding him here with her asleep on the sofa. Connor flinched as a voice called from the other side of the door.

“Josephine? Are you
home?” There was a pause. “I know you’re home, dear. It’s me, Mrs. Lovegood.”

Connor frowned.
Josephine?
He would find out the answer, but first he had to open the door.

An older woman stood
outside, wringing her hands in agitation.

“Can I help you?” Connor asked casually as he opened the front door
, acting as if he belonged here.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Is Josephine…
I…you…where is Josephine?” the woman asked.

“
I was under the impression her name was Sophia.”

“No, that was her mother’s name. Who are you
! What have you done with her!” she demanded this time.

He smiled patiently. “I’m a friend of hers. She was under the weather wh
en I arrived earlier. Now she’s asleep on the sofa. I didn’t know what else to do for her. Perhaps you can help. My name is Connor Tananguard.”

“Oh
, the poor dear. I thought she looked pale earlier when she returned from her outing. I’m Dorothy Lovegood. I’m her,” she paused briefly, “housekeeper. I left for maybe an hour, and this is what I come back to.” She shook her head.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Lovegood. Please, come in,” he said, motioning inside
, not that he needed to if she lived here.

She eyed him nervously then sighed. “Distrusting old woman,” she grumbled to herself as she stepped inside the house. She kept him in her sights, though, as she made her way over to the sofa. “Josephine. Josephine, sweetheart, wake-up dear,” Mrs. Lovegood tried.

Sophia groaned, but nothing more.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Well, when I arrived, she’d had a bit to drink, and now I believe she’s sleeping it off,” Connor admitted.

Mrs. Lovegood shook her head. “Something must have happened to cause her to do that. She rarely drinks anything stronger than tea. Take her upstairs to her room. The best thing for her is sleep.”

Connor nodded. “Care to show me where to go?”

The woman smiled. “Of course. Pick her up and follow me.”

Connor scooped Sophia gently into his arms. She woke up just enough to look at him and smile. It damned near took his breath away. The woman was a disaster, but she was still beautiful.

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” she asked quietly. She sighed in pleasure and fell right back to sleep.

Connor smiled. This day was getting better by the moment. He followed Mrs. Lovegood to the hall off of the living room. The hall led to the stairs which led up and to Sophia’s bedchambers. There were three rooms upstairs along a long, narrow hallway. The rooms weren’t large, but they were comfortable. The first, he was informed, was Mrs. Lovegood’s. Sophia’s was at the end.

Sophia
’s room was the largest. It had a nice sized bed in it that he placed her in before gently covering her with the blankets. He stared at her a moment. She still had smudges of dirt on her face, but she looked peaceful in sleep.

“Come, young man. She is settled. I think it’s time you were on your way,” Mrs. Lovegood said.

“I’m not leaving until she wakes up,” he stated. He frowned at himself.
Why not?
he wondered. She was obviously in good hands, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to make certain she truly was well before he left, and that wouldn’t happen until he had a good conversation with her.

“Well, you can’t stay up here. We’ll discuss it downstairs.”

He followed her downstairs.

“So you insist o
n staying?” Mrs. Lovegood asked. “You realize I cannot allow that.”

Connor sighed. He did realize that in fact. “Yes, I see that you are correct. It would be improper.”

She seemed to sigh in relief. “Then you will go and allow me to keep watch over Josephine.”

Josephine,
he thought. The name sounded strange after calling her Sophia all day, but it did feel right. “Yes,” he answered. “But I will be back come sunrise.”

“Fare enough. Shall we leave her in peace then?”

“You’re not staying?” he asked in surprise.

Mrs. Lovegood
jumped at the question. “Oh…of course I am. I live here.”

Connor nodded.

She began walking toward the door, motioning for Connor to do the same. “Don’t worry, young man. All will be well,” she reassured.

Connor sighed in defeat and
allowed Mrs. Lovegood to escort him from the house.

It was dark out as Connor made his way home. There were cutpurses and thieves out, but he knew how to handle himself. He was not an easy target and most could sense that. He usually carried himself with a confident air, a dangerous air, and most stayed away. Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. He walked slouched over, frowning and not paying attention to his surroundings. He was thinking of Sophia and his last thoughts before his meal had been interrupted. It felt right thinking of her next to him in that house. It felt right even thinking of her as his wife, and he realized he wanted to see if he could make that happen. It was shocking how right it felt, and it was nice. He’d been thinking it was time to quit his roguish ways, thinking how wrong they were. That wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be, moving from woman to woman. Not that he was anything compared to Lucas. But he had his moments.

He was nearly home when a group of three
men cornered him in a dark street.

“You’re valuables, please,” one of the men said
. He motioned for the other two to flank Connor.

Connor eyed the three, taking in the situation. None held pistols. Pistols were too loud if discharged, a sure call for the authorities. The leader, though, held a knife, casually flourishing it to let him know they meant business.

Connor presumed they wanted to scare him more than anything, and one man with a knife was not enough to do that. “You can have my wallet if you can take it from me,” Connor told them.

The leader laughed. “You’re a foolish one, aren’t you? There are three of us and one of you. We are armed, and Jonas has been known to kill from time to time.” He nodded to the smaller man on Connor’s right who grinned when Connor looked at him.

Connor flinched, but not in fear. The man’s teeth were a yellowish-black color with spaces between where some were missing. He shook away the sight. Then he stepped swiftly to his right and side-chopped the edge of his hand into Jonas’s throat hard. The man’s hands came up automatically. Connor undercut him in the gut, doubling him over. Then Connor shoved his boot into the man’s shoulder and kicked him to the ground. By then, the other two men were reacting to Connor’s aggression.