Page 11 of Broken

Dragging her eyes away from Giles’ changing form, she looked around the room. In the firelight she noticed pale walls, dark timber, and pillows on every chair. She liked his bedchamber best of all the strange places she’d been taken to. The banked fire created a dreamy warmth that made her want to curl up and sleep. She glanced back at the naked earl.

Giles must be hot. The sheets bunched at the foot of his bed, but he touched and pulled on his length, rolling over onto his front to rub himself into the sheet.

Eyes locked on his flexing hips, Lilly twirled the ruby pin between her fingers, marking time until his breath hitched. She did not even need to see his face to know he enjoyed his pleasure. She crossed the room, but glanced back as she opened the door, smiling at the familiar low groans that rang through the chamber.

He made that exact same sound every time he played with other ladies. Lilly wrinkled her nose. She did not like the other women very much. They could do things with him she couldn’t. They could dance and walk about in his company all night if they wanted. Lilly could never gad about in society. Her injuries were too severe.

She tugged on the heavy door and stepped into the dark hallway. Nails clicked on bare timber and she reached for Atticus. He licked her hand urgently, but through the fog of her dulled senses, she could not raise enough concern for his distress and continued her wandering.

The other rooms were empty and cold. No one else slept on this floor. Lilly wondered where her papa was and lurched toward the stairs to go below. Descending the stairs took a long time and she leaned heavily on the railing for support. Atticus was not a great deal of help as he clutched a mouthful of nightgown with his teeth, tugging in the opposite direction. Lilly continued down.

Still, ignoring Atticus was hard, but she reached the bottom step anyway and turned to look about. She could see nothing except darkness outside the open front door. Papa would not be outside. He did not like the dark, and neither did she. No one good would be out there in all that blackness.

Moving from memory, Lilly shuffled to the open drawing room doors, but knocked over a small table that never used to be there. Unfortunately, she couldn’t right it, so she left it where it fell.

Atticus tugged on her gown and an unmistakable rip broke the silence. Too weary to scold, she turned, laid a hand on his shaggy coat, and patted him clumsily.

Skirting the fallen table, she moved forward, her feet dragging on the thick wool carpet. She enjoyed the sensations tickling her toes, but the drawing room was as empty of life as everywhere else.

She returned to the doorway, retraced her steps to the main staircase, and looked up. She knew where she could see a familiar face. Giles was upstairs, but it was such a long way back to him.

Maybe Papa was in Giles’ study. When she found the room, it was warmer than she expected, scented with cigar smoke but deserted.

Lilly swayed, exhaustion tugging her limbs. Atticus whined. She gripped his coat to reassure him, but overbalanced and fell partly against the hound, slumping to the floor in an untidy heap. Her companion whined again.

“Quiet now. I’m unharmed,” Lilly whispered.

A thick sheepskin rug cushioned her body and tickled her cheek. She pushed up with her arms, but could not raise herself even to her knees. Atticus barked and nosed her cheek. She used what little strength she had left to wrap her arms around him.

“Atticus, be still.”

Atticus wriggled, perhaps trying to help, but Lilly’s arms were heavy and weak all at once. She could not hold on. She landed heavily on the floor, hurting her head when she fell beyond the soft sheepskin.

Lilly sprawled in a long spill of moonlight thrown from the high, un-shuttered windows, waiting for dizziness to pass. She could not get up, so she curled into a ball and clutched her useless hands.

The room spun out of focus. Faces came and went. Serious men and women, dressed in wigs and jewels, smiling benignly upon her. A clock ticked, chiming once, twice, three times.

“All the king’s horses…”

Warmth pressed against her back as Atticus lay his full length against her. If she could remember the word, he would bark for her. It was simple. Just one word and he would wake Giles. She was sure the earl would come, pick her up, and take her somewhere warm if she asked nicely.

But the nursery rhyme was all she could remember. She opened her mouth to speak, but retched instead, forgetting all about seeking help as waves of nausea shook her.

“Couldn’t put humpty together again.”

* * *

Giles woke late, tired and worn out. He had again dreamed of the ghost with white hair. His sheets had not been this sullied by his solitary sleeping since he was an untried boy. He raised his head and looked about the room. Last night he’d imagined singing, for God’s sake.

His door stood ajar, so he pulled the top sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist just in case one of the housemaids walked past. He was not going to be the subject of conversation between that pair of bird-witted chits.

For the first time, he had dreamed of the ghost touching his possessions. Giles had woken, rolled over, and flexed his hips against the mattress, completely caught up in the fantasy that she was beneath him. Pleasuring himself with the friction of the sheet and the scent he imagined she might wear. Lemons. It had only taken a moment before he had groaned into his pillow.

He rang for his valet, dressed, and ate a hearty breakfast, ignoring the frowning expression Worth wore as he poked through his bureau drawer and jewel box. He was reviewing his plans for the day when Dithers knocked on his door, and came in without waiting for permission.

That was certainly not like him. Dithers hovered on the threshold, spotted him, then barreled across the room, agitation clear in every step. The world slowed as he drew closer. There was obviously not going to be good news in the greeting.

“The nurse has run off, milord.” Dithers sounded incensed by such a dereliction of duty.