Page 56 of Rejected
“Quick, his other arm,” John said, leaping to action.
Between them, he, Jo and the manservant, half-carried Laurie to the parlor and helped him sit down. Laurie kept trying to breathe and almost choking, but Sainted John reassured Jo that as soon as he had a ‘spot of brandy’ down him, he would be as good as new.
“I’m sorry,” Jo said again, uselessly.
“Fellow must be deep in his cups,” Sainted John tried to console her.
“Not drunk,” Laurie somehow, in his semi-conscious state, had the presence of mind to defend himself. “Have been travelling without stopping since I got that blasted letter,” his words were interrupted by painful gasps. “Changed horses. Rode again. Repeated the process. Did not even take water.”
“Well, take some now,” John encouraged him, forever calm in the midst of utter absurdity.
At some point between the brandy and the water, Laurie’s color returned to his face, and his eyes stopped having that frightening glazed-over look. They searched the room frantically. Searching for her.
“Jo,” he said when they found her.
He tried to stand up.
“We had better leave you two alone,” John said quickly, and closed the doors behind himself and the servant as they exited, not giving two straws about the impropriety of leaving a lady alone with a gentleman.
Or what was left of him, anyway.
Jo and Laurie were left alone, he sprawled on the couch, fighting for his life, she trembling by the door, afraid to even look at him as if she’d be turned into a pillar of salt.
“I’m sorry about the letter,” Jo said for the hundredth time. “I did not… I did not mean for it to nearly kill you.”
“You are going to be the death of me, woman,” Laurie said, emptying the glass Sainted John had poured for him himself. He stood. He was not shaking anymore. “Come here. What was that mad, absurd thing you wrote in your letter? How did you think your sister could ever hold the least appeal for me, when you exist in the world?”
“I am sorry,” Jo repeated. “I heard that you…”
I shall kill Justin, she thought.The idiot was wrong.
“It’s you,” Laurie said, and all murderous thoughts fled from her mind. “It’s only ever been you.”
“I’m sorry.”I must stop saying that.
“I jumped on my horse the instant I got your letter, just to clear this up,” Laurie said. “I travelled for a day and night without stopping.”
“Just for that,” Jo whispered. She was standing frozen by the door, and Laurie looked like he wanted to go to her, but he visibly held himself back.
“Yes.” He was watching her with those sad, sad eyes. He never used to have sad eyes before Meg’s wedding. “I would do it all over again, just to dispel the very thought from your mind.”
“I was torturing myself with that thought,” Jo said.
“Torturing?” Up went one black eyebrow. Had his lips been that red when he’d kissed her? Had his teeth been just visible under the curve of the bottom lip? “Don’t use that word. It’s ugly. It’s dangerous. It might teach me to hope.”
“Hope, then,” Jo said, hardly knowing what she did.
“What?” He stopped breathing. His eyes grew round. Crazed.
“What?” Jo repeated.
“Do you realize, Josephine St Claire, do you realize—” his voice broke as he finally took one step towards her.
Jo tried to retreat, but her back was already to the door—there was nowhere to hide. She gathered her robe closer around her, and tried to remember if she had her hair in a braid or let it free to cascade in wild curls down her back like ‘some sort of fairytale witch-maiden’ according to Meg.
“Do you realize that I won’t stop proposing?” Laurie was taking another step closer. His eyes were fixed on hers, glittering with unshed tears. He wasn’t even blinking. “I won’t leave again; it was hell being away from you anyway. I’ll stay here, as I am, rejected, dejected. I don’t care. The minute I saw you again, you were like air to a choking man. I am not leaving you again.”
Jo tried to swallow; her lips had gone dry.
