Page 48 of Vengeance Becomes Her

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“What happened? Let me help you.” The genuine concern in his voice was the thing that broke the dam and tears began flooding her face once again, along with muffled sobs.

He pulled her to his chest, guarding her against now-prying eyes. Before she could protest, he swooped her legs off the ground and lifted her into the carriage that he’d asked to follow them.

Once they were inside, he sat her down on the seat next to him. She was relieved to see her sister sitting across from her, but she was about as sober as Rhiannon.

She couldn’t stop the tears that streaked her cheeks, despite all her efforts.

When the carriage finally came to a stop, Rhiannon made to exit, but Tristain put an arm out, forcing her to remain seated.

“Waithere a minute.”

He helped her sister out of the carriage and through the front door and then he was back, guiding her down the three small steps and out into the fresh night air. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was in his arms once again.

“I can walk,” she said as she hiccupped through tears.

“It’s easier this way in the dark. The last thing we need is you twisting your ankle in those shoes.”

When they got to her door, he placed her feet back on the ground gently, his hands stayed on her sides to steady her as she unlocked it.

Rhiannon stumbled over the entryway, gripping his hand for balance. He guided her to the bed, urging her to sit as he bent down to take off her shoes, she braced herself with a hand on his shoulder. Tristain carefully unclasped the delicate buckle on one, then theother, freeing her feet from their strappy prison. She flexed her toes as she claimed the new freedom.

“I’m going to ready the bath for you. I’ll be right back.”

Rhiannon grunted in frustration as she struggled to reach the clasp at the back of her dress. Tristain reentered the room with confusion written across his face.

“Are you going to stand there staring or are you going to help,” she said throughgritted teeth.

Her hair was a mess of tangles from her struggle, partially covering her face. She would never allow herself to look so disheveled sober, buthere they were.

“Of course, I am but your humble servant.” A small smile played upon his lips, which earned a weak glare laced with sadness from Rhiannon. “I’m sorry, yes, I’m happy to help you. Let me see.”

She turned her back to him, so he could reach the clasps that kept her dress closed. The feel of his hands on her bare skin sent a shiver up her spine and not just because they were cold. He unclasped the dress but held the fabric closed, preventing it from slipping off, and grabbed her handto replace his.

“Thank you.” Her voice was grainy. Her throat was sore from crying.

She went into the washroom without another word, carefully guiding herself into the large clawfoot tub. When she sank into the perfectly warm water, she felt the weight of the last hour leave her. She relaxed back into the tub, but she couldn’t quite rest knowing he was in the other room. Her mind kept nagging her thoughts back towards Tristain. The way he’d followed her to make sure she was safe. The way he’d carried her quietly, letting her cry without prying. After a few more minutes, she got out, drying herself fully before realizing she hadn’t brought any clothes in with her. She opened the door to shout a warning to him to cover his eyes when something on the ground caught her eye, it was a cozy sweater and shorts for her to change into. She smiled at his kindness and attention to detail.

When she re-emerged from the washroom clean, dry, and tear free, she felt much better.

“Thank you,” she said as she rounded the cornerinto her room.

Tristain was sitting in the large chair that sat to the right of her bed—her reading chair as she liked to call it. His head was resting on his hand, his eyes closed. He was asleep, she could hear the soft whistle of his tired breaths coming and going. Her chest tightened at the sight, he looked so young and vulnerable like this.

As if he felt her staring at him, his eyes slowly opened. A smile began to form on his lips as he took in her tear-free face.

“How are you feeling?” He sat up, awake now and fully focused on her. His body was alert once again.

“I feel much better, thank you—for everything. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” The words were a bit slurred, but she meant them.

Her gaze dropped to her feet as she remembered the humiliation of her breakdown. The heat of her shame crept up her arms, chest, and face. She played with the ends of her hair, twisting them painfully around her finger.

“You have nothing to apologize for or be embarrassed about.” He stood up, putting his finger under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “I mean it.”

He stared at her intently and in that moment, she thought she could see clear to his pure heart that seemed to only want to help her. The urge to kiss him pulsed through her, but as she angled her head closer to his, he took a tentative step back and cleared his throat.

“I should probably go so you can get some rest. You had a lot to drink and we have a lot to getdone tomorrow.”

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