Page 107 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
That sick feeling rose in her stomach again.
Her father had done this. He’d pointed a weapon at Thorne, at Fawkes, and tried to kill them. It wasn’t an accident, but an attempt to quiet them both, according to what Thorne had described.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice caught on a small sob and she tightened her hold on him, pulling him closer. “I’m so sorry.”
Thorne tried to lift his head, but she wouldn’t allow it. “Dinnae fash, Kit,” he assured her, slightly muffled against the linen she wore. “I’ve endured worse.”
“Not at my father’s hands,” she swore.
He was quiet for a moment, then finally confessed, “Nay. Blackrose never tried to kill me directly. But Rourke, and Demon, and Griffin and Fawkes…Hell, even Olivia, since her brother was loyal to the bastard…they’ve all suffered.”
Kit swallowed. “And they’ll be here to help you tomorrow. As will I. I’m not going to let him hurt you oranyoneever again.”
She could see his eyelids were getting heavy, so she loosened her hold on him and stroked his skin again, her fingertips dragging goosepimples behind them. He sighed and settled closer.
“Love ye, Kit,” he murmured, eyes closed, and her heart caught in her throat.
Tell him.
Weeks ago, a lifetime ago, she’d quotedTwelfth Nightto him, when she’d been playing a role as Cesario had been.
In the play, Cesario moons over Duke Orsino, who can tell “the lad” is in love with someone:
What kind of woman is’t?
And Cesario replies,Of your complexion.
She is not worth thee, then,the clueless duke offers.What years, I’faith?
About your years, my lord.
And Orsino still did not get it.
Kit’s chest and stomach ached with emotion. Anger, at her father. Fear, at what had happened to Thorne, and how very close she’d come to losing him.
And love.
Oh,Dio Benedetto,so much love.
She leaned closer and pressed a kiss atop the bandage, where Thorne’s life’s blood had been seeping mere hours ago. Then she moved her lips to his unmarred cheek. It wasn’t until she saw a tear fall on his nose that she realized she was crying, huffing slightly at the knowledge.
“I love you, Thorne,” she whispered. “So much.”
Blue eyes opened briefly, but they were clouded from sleep and pain, and she doubted he was truly seeing her. Doubted he understood.
Then he sighed softly, as if in contentment, and snuggled closer.
Kit wrapped her arms around him and stared at the opposite wall, devising ways to make her father pay for this crime.
It was a very long night.
Thorne’s head pounded,but it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t ignore it. All in all, a small price to pay, considering how close he’d come to death last night.
Groaning, he rolled to his side and pushed himself upright. He was a little surprised Kit wasn’t still beside him in the bed, but a glance out the window showed it to be almost noon, and her side of the bed was rumpled.
Her side.
He would’ve rolled his eyes at his foolishness, if he could be certain it wouldn’t spike his headache.
