Page 87 of All Scot and Bothered
And her silent pain was inescapable, becoming his shadow in the dark.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Cecelia’s head throbbed in sync to the sound of Ramsay’s ax splitting wood outside her window.
She’d woken early, having tossed and turned into the wee hours of the morning. Everything ached. Her hips, her back, her head…
Her sex.
Restless and emotional, she’d decided to work on the codex, intent upon distracting herself from last night’s disastrous ending. And from the scorching memories of what had preceded it.
In the hours between dawn and now, she’d gotten exactly nowhere.
Jean-Yves and Phoebe had both woken and needed tending to, and Cecelia found herself eager for a distraction.
To his credit, Ramsay had seen to Jean-Yves’s needs and even hauled and heated water in which the invalid could take a proper hip bath. After, the Lord Chief Justicehad prepared a breakfast of hearty bread, fruit, and cheeses in which he didn’t partake with the trio of guests.
Ramsay had barely glanced at Cecelia the entire morning, and in order to contain her smarting emotions, she forced a false brightness into her interactions with the others.
Phoebe was content and chatty, eager to romp about the yard and pick wildflowers with her dolls.
Jean-Yves, who’d known and cared about Cecelia for so long, was not so easily fooled.
Exhausted after bathing, eating, and dressing, he allowed her to help him back to bed and tuck him beneath the covers.
“Did something happen?” he asked alertly. “Your heart, it is bleeding, I think. Is it over this giant, grumpy Scot?” His nose wrinkled with distaste as he eyed the Scot through the open window.
Damn his observant nature.
“Don’t worry yourself.” Cecelia smoothed the blankets over him and lifted the opium tincture from the desk. “My heart is more bruised than bleeding.”
His eyes narrowed beneath a web of fine wrinkles. “Do I need to make room for his corpse in the garden?”
She smiled down at him fondly. Had there ever been a man so dear? “No. I do not think he’s done anything wrong.”
“Tell me what he has done, and I’ll tell you if it’s wrong,” Jean-Yves offered as passionately as one in his condition was able.
Cecelia fought the pink creeping up from beneath her collar and shook her head.
Jean-Yves made a face. “On second thought, I find I do not want to know.”
She offered him a contrite little smile that went no further than her mouth, and handed him the laudanum with water at the ready.
Jean-Yves refused the medicine. “The pain is bearable this morning,” he said. “I do not want to develop a taste for oblivion.” He sucked at his teeth, lifting one bushy caterpillar brow up his creased forehead. “Besides, I think this Scot will finish breaking your heart while I am sleeping, no?”
“No,” Cecelia said glumly, slumping into the desk chair. “He’s being logical. In order for any sort of life together to work, I’d have to be other than I am.”
His mouth twisted. “What do you mean?”
“He’s the Lord Chief Justice. I’m a bastard and the owner of a notorious gambling hell.”
She sighed and dropped her chin into her palm, resting her elbow on the desk. “Ramsay would not take my heart if I offered it and so he cannot break it. I do not think it’s worth anything to him.” The thought tore at her raw emotions, stinging her eyes with unwanted tears. She’d been nothing but an open wound since the moment he left, and she hated her own weakness.
“Then he is a fool, an idiot, an incomparable ass.” Jean-Yves’s dudgeon caused his breath to speed, and he clutched at his ribs.
Cecelia leaned forward, her hands hovering over him, finding no place to land. “Please, do not worry about my heart. We’re safe for now, and if Lord Ramsay is anything, he’s a man of his word. He’ll take good care of us.”
“I always worry about your heart,bonbon, it is the softest heart in the whole world.” Jean-Yves leaned back, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. “I just don’t understand,” he murmured as though talking to himself. “A man does not hold a woman like he held you the night ofthe attack unless she is precious to him. I thought—perhaps—you’d finally found someone who would try to be worthy of you.”
