Page 57 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Would you even want to?”
“Of course.”
He sneered, turning his head, so he was not looking her in the eye. “You do not have to lie to me.”
“I am not.” She raised her head, propping her elbow on the coat, so she could lean on it. “I amnot, Eric,” she said louder and more insistently.
He lifted his hand and ran it down his scar. “I know what a beast I look like.”
“You do not look like a beast, and I will thank you to stop saying that about yourself. It is rude and uncalled for.”
He gave her a bemused look and then shook his head. “You are kind, beneath all the sharp-tongued scorn, but I am in no need of your gentleness. I am quite cognizant of how people see me. Look at all the people at that ball, staring at me as if I were a worm that crawled into their midst by mistake.”
Freya gritted her teeth angrily. “Those people are the ones who should look into their humanity, not you. Never you, Eric. Please do not take what they did to heart!”
Suddenly, there was a loud clap of thunder followed moments later by lightning. Freya froze, looking up through the hole in the roof, and so she did not notice how Eric had curled himself into a ball, whimpering like a child, until she looked back down. He’d somehow managed to wedge himself in the space between the fireplace and the wall, and his shirt was in danger of catching on fire.
“Eric!” She rushed to him, reaching out to touch him, but he flinched, curling in even more on himself and whimpering.
His breath started coming fast and loud.
“I-I c-can’t br-breathe,” he wheezed, his face going first very pale and then flushing with color as he choked on nothing.
“Eric!” Freya shook him, not knowing what to do. She shook him again, “Please…you cannot die on me.”
Not knowing what else to do, she forced him up into a sitting position and put her arms around his chest. “Breathe with me, please come on, breathe in with me…now breathe out. Please, Eric, breathe…”
Her heart was hammering with fear, and she didn’t know what she would do if he were to expire.
Don’t leave me, Eric. Please don’t leave me.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Eric slowly came out of the fugue that had surrounded him, taking him back to the battlefield and the sound of canon and musket fire as he fought desperately for his life. It was as if he was right back there on the battlefield as the soft earth floor of the cottage disappeared, and Freya became nothing but a daydream.
It was the clap of thunder that did it. This was not the first time such a thing had happened to him. He was usually able to pull himself out of it, but he had never experienced one so severe and all-encompassing.
It was Freya’s voice that brought him back, urging him to breathe with her when he felt as if he was drowning.
“Breathe with me, in…and out…please Eric, breathe.”
And because she asked, he strove to do it though it felt like an awful lot of effort for very little reward.
“Breathe…”
He followed her voice back to her and realized she had him lying in her arms, as she supported him from behind. Mortification filled him at the thought that she’d seen him fall apart like the weakest of men.
He tried to move away from her, but she would not let him.
“Forgive me,” he tried to say with some dignity, “I did not mean —”
“Do not apologize. I understand you. One of my father’s tenants had a son who went off to war. When he came back, he could not stand loud noises either.”
He tried to move away from her, but she held tight onto him.
“Please, stay.”
Her words were so soft and gentle that he felt compelled to obey them. With a sigh, he surrendered, leaning back into her and copying her breathing, in and out…in…and out. Gradually, the calm returned to him, and his hands stopped shaking.
