men possessed neither honor nor restraint.
“Did you go alone?” he asked stiffly.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get this strange feeling under control, to not rail at her. He’d been protective of his sisters, yes, but never to this extent. A part of him wanted to drag her against his side and never let her leave it.
But telling her how he felt right now would only frighten her. She was an innocent lass who didn’t understand the evils of men—and he hoped she never would.
He took a deep breath and managed to get the words out calmly. “Dinna do that, Grace. ’Tisn’t safe.” He had no right to give her orders, of course, but he didn’t really care.
“Why?”
“Because there are too few women here and too many men, and not all of them are honorable.”
She seemed to consider this. Then she bit her lower lip, looking chagrined. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I was foolish.”
“I’ll accompany you next time.”
Her blue eyes brightened. “Would you?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to return tomorrow.”
“Aye, of course.”
“Excellent. It’s a plan, then.”
He took a moment to glance away from the street to look at her. She leaned against the doorframe comfortably, smiling at him, the moonlight catching in the blond strands of her hair.
He’d kissed this beautiful, ethereal creature earlier today, in a haze of laudanum and brandy.
He wanted to kiss her again, even more now. He wanted to take her to a dark corner and press his lips to hers, drink in her innocence until both of them were breathless. Then he wanted to strip her slowly, removing each layer of exquisite, expensive material until he could see all of her, touch all of her. He could only imagine her pale, sleek flesh, her soft skin…
He swallowed hard. His fantasies were running away with him, and his body had grown hard again. He shifted uncomfortably and smiled back at her. “Aye,” he said gruffly. “It’s a plan.”
Chapter 5
Two evenings later, Grace sat beside her sister in the carriage and tried to calm her clanging heart. When her brother-in-law had awakened, he had quickly returned to his usual brusque and closed-off self, and the doctor had finally cleared him for travel late this afternoon. Oddly, the major’s orders were not to travel with his regiment, but to take a select group of soldiers and return with them to London.
The most shocking news, to Grace anyhow, was that Sergeant Duncan Mackenzie was among the group of six men who were chosen to accompany the major. The group included Major Campbell, two captains, and two lieutenants, all chosen by Wellington himself. The two sergeants chosen by the major rounded out the group of seven war-hardened soldiers.
Now they were all returning to London together. The carriage was headed to Ostend, where they’d board a ship bound for Dover. From there, they’d take another carriage to London, where the soldiers would go about their duties and Claire and Grace would return to the Earl of Norsey’s Mayfair house.
If she didn’t know better, Grace would say that it was fate that Duncan had ended up being a part of the small group. But it was a bothersome kind of fate. She had spent almost all day yesterday with him. There had been no more drunken kisses, and her body sang with displeasure because it craved the feel of his lips again. But there had been no opportunity—they had been within crowds of men, and Grace had been covered in dirt and blood all day long.
She had helped as much as she was able. It wasn’t enough. Then again, it would never be enough when it came to some of those men. No amount of help would save them.
It was serious work. Sad work. Hard work. She had done the best she could. She’d held a man’s hand while he’d finally succumbed to the bullet that had punctured his chest. She’d wiped mud from several deep, fatal wounds. She’d cleaned a bayonet stab wound in a man’s eye.
All the while, Duncan
“Did you go alone?” he asked stiffly.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get this strange feeling under control, to not rail at her. He’d been protective of his sisters, yes, but never to this extent. A part of him wanted to drag her against his side and never let her leave it.
But telling her how he felt right now would only frighten her. She was an innocent lass who didn’t understand the evils of men—and he hoped she never would.
He took a deep breath and managed to get the words out calmly. “Dinna do that, Grace. ’Tisn’t safe.” He had no right to give her orders, of course, but he didn’t really care.
“Why?”
“Because there are too few women here and too many men, and not all of them are honorable.”
She seemed to consider this. Then she bit her lower lip, looking chagrined. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I was foolish.”
“I’ll accompany you next time.”
Her blue eyes brightened. “Would you?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to return tomorrow.”
“Aye, of course.”
“Excellent. It’s a plan, then.”
He took a moment to glance away from the street to look at her. She leaned against the doorframe comfortably, smiling at him, the moonlight catching in the blond strands of her hair.
He’d kissed this beautiful, ethereal creature earlier today, in a haze of laudanum and brandy.
He wanted to kiss her again, even more now. He wanted to take her to a dark corner and press his lips to hers, drink in her innocence until both of them were breathless. Then he wanted to strip her slowly, removing each layer of exquisite, expensive material until he could see all of her, touch all of her. He could only imagine her pale, sleek flesh, her soft skin…
He swallowed hard. His fantasies were running away with him, and his body had grown hard again. He shifted uncomfortably and smiled back at her. “Aye,” he said gruffly. “It’s a plan.”
Chapter 5
Two evenings later, Grace sat beside her sister in the carriage and tried to calm her clanging heart. When her brother-in-law had awakened, he had quickly returned to his usual brusque and closed-off self, and the doctor had finally cleared him for travel late this afternoon. Oddly, the major’s orders were not to travel with his regiment, but to take a select group of soldiers and return with them to London.
The most shocking news, to Grace anyhow, was that Sergeant Duncan Mackenzie was among the group of six men who were chosen to accompany the major. The group included Major Campbell, two captains, and two lieutenants, all chosen by Wellington himself. The two sergeants chosen by the major rounded out the group of seven war-hardened soldiers.
Now they were all returning to London together. The carriage was headed to Ostend, where they’d board a ship bound for Dover. From there, they’d take another carriage to London, where the soldiers would go about their duties and Claire and Grace would return to the Earl of Norsey’s Mayfair house.
If she didn’t know better, Grace would say that it was fate that Duncan had ended up being a part of the small group. But it was a bothersome kind of fate. She had spent almost all day yesterday with him. There had been no more drunken kisses, and her body sang with displeasure because it craved the feel of his lips again. But there had been no opportunity—they had been within crowds of men, and Grace had been covered in dirt and blood all day long.
She had helped as much as she was able. It wasn’t enough. Then again, it would never be enough when it came to some of those men. No amount of help would save them.
It was serious work. Sad work. Hard work. She had done the best she could. She’d held a man’s hand while he’d finally succumbed to the bullet that had punctured his chest. She’d wiped mud from several deep, fatal wounds. She’d cleaned a bayonet stab wound in a man’s eye.
All the while, Duncan
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