The Offer (9 page)

“No, tell me, Phillip, what happened next? Stop teasing me. Tell me.”

“Very well. Without so much as flinching or batting an eyelid, Nell ordered him to drop his trousers. Then she marched him in front of her back to camp, naked as the day he was born, and said to the colonel, ‘The lout tried to rape me, sir. I trust that you will see him hanged.' She handed the colonel the pistol and pulled the papers the fellow had stolen from her bodice. ‘If attacking a defenseless woman isn't enough cause, sir,' she said, ‘I trust these documents detailing the English strategy will settle the matter.' The colonel looked at Nell, then at the naked fellow, and dropped his monocle.”

“Oh, goodness, that really didn't happen, did it?”

“Yes, indeed. After that, the colonel gave Nell the rank of corporal. To this day, she marches with the men and is always referred to as Corporal Nell.”

Suddenly the laughter fell from her face, leaving it blank. Then fear took over. “He tried to rape her but she managed to save herself. She did it, Phillip. I wasn't strong enough. I tried, but I couldn't.”

He started to take her in his arms, to comfort her, to tell her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. But he knew it wouldn't be the right thing to do. He didn't question why he was so certain, he just
accepted that he was. He looked down at his fingernails. “You know, Sabrina, you don't have to be at a man's mercy.”

She raised her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I can teach you how to fight. If ever again in the future a man tries to hurt you, you'll know how to defend yourself. You'll know how to hurt the man.”

“That's truly possible? You're not just saying that so that I won't weep about it anymore?”

“No. When you're well again, I'll give you your first lesson.”

Her eyes were shining. “I could kill him if he ever tried to rape me again. I could kill him.”

“Yes, but think if you didn't kill him, if, instead, you caused him exquisite agony. Then every time he looked at you he would be reminded of the god-awful pain you inflicted on him. Wouldn't that be a far better punishment than just simple death?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, her voice more intense than any voice he'd ever heard. “Yes, I want to do it.” And then, she said to herself, “I'll go home.”

“I heard from another military friend of mind that Corporal Nell quit the army last year. She's now the madam of a very fancy bordello in Brussels.”

“How could she do that? She knew what men were like, what they do to women if they're but given the chance.”

“I hear that she and all the other ladies are becoming quite rich off the men. Don't feel sorry for them, Sabrina. Can you imagine any man ever trying to take advantage of a girl who worked for Corporal Nell?”

“Well, maybe no, but I still don't like it. I don't think I could ever do something like that.”

“No,” he said, and that was all he said.

He leaned forward then, smiling, and lightly patted
her cheek. Instead of drawing back, she said, “You've had so many adventures, seen so many exciting places. Of course you could have been killed, but still, you weren't, and now you have wonderful memories for the rest of your life.”

“They're by no means all wonderful, Sabrina. Too many men, brave and loyal men like your father, died and are still dying. That's why all wars should be pronounced illegal by every government of the world. Can you begin to imagine a world that had no more fighting?”

She thought of all the books she'd read about the great military leaders in history. She said slowly, smiling just a bit now. “There wouldn't be as many books written if there weren't wars. Then there wouldn't be any more heroes.”

“Oh yes, there would. A man doesn't have to kill people to be a hero.” Again, he remembered Scotland; the experience, he knew, had changed the fundamental way he looked at life, and at death.

“Perhaps, but still, you're here and you're real and you've had some adventures that were wonderful. I've done nothing but ride, attend boring parties, learn how to manage serv—” Her voice disappeared. She looked down at her toes, wiggling beneath the covers.

He said smoothly, “How very enterprising of you, Sabrina, to be an accomplished horsewoman in London, particularly in Fleet Street.”

She had no idea what Fleet Street was. “I would ride in Hyde Park. No one took anything amiss.”

“There is excellent racing there, isn't that true? All along Rotten Row, so many people riding as fast as the wind.”

“Oh yes, I loved it. That's how I became such a good horsewoman.”

He just looked at her, shaking his head at himself,
not her. If a lady dared to race in Hyde Park, she'd be ostracized, but fast. He said then, smiling, “Do you know that Wellington is famed for his strategic retreats?”

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing in particular.” He rose. “It's just that right this moment, I'm retreating because I hope to return to win a final victory.”

“It looks to me as if you can't get out of my room fast enough. Have I perhaps routed you?”

He stopped at the door. “I'm off to get you a bathtub. I think you're strong enough to have a proper bath. What do you say?”

She picked up the thick braid that hung lifeless and dull over her shoulder.

“Yes, we'll wash your hair too. Now, what do you say?”

She looked ready to dance. “Oh yes, Phillip. I should like that very much. I'm beginning to feel crawly.”

“Don't insult me. I've kept you quite clean.”

She paled. She looked away, her lips clamped together.

He cursed under his breath, but she heard it and stared at him. “Forgive me, but if I hadn't taken care of you, then I fear you would be a lovely angel in heaven.”

“I'm sorry, Phillip, truly I am. It's just that it's so very difficult. You've been very good to me and you don't even know me.”

He'd know her better if she just told him who she really was. He nodded and left the bedchamber.

When he returned, two large buckets filled with hot water slung over his arms, Sabrina was sitting up in bed, staring at him as if he were bringing her Christmas presents. He laughed.

“No, don't leap out of bed just yet. I've got to fetch the tub.”

Three minutes later, steam was rising out of the copper tub. “Do you have soap?”

“I wish you wouldn't doubt my scavenging skills.” He lifted a bar of soap and smelled it. “It's jasmine. No, just stay there another moment. We need more water. You've lots of hair.”

After he'd filled the tub, he turned and paused a moment, watching her unbraid her hair. “Who owns this hunting box?”

“Why, it's Ch—” She looked like she wanted to bite off her own tongue. She began pulling the tangles from her hair, not looking at him now. “Of course I don't know. I told you, Phillip. I live in London. I only visit Yorkshire rarely.”

He slapped his palm to his forehead. “How could I be so stupid as to forget that?” He grinned, ignoring the killing look in those incredible eyes of hers, and pulled back the covers. “Come, Sabrina, your bath awaits.”

She tucked the dressing gown tightly about her and swung her feet over the side of the bed. He held out his arms, but she ignored him. She stood up and almost immediately fell against him. “Oh, my, I can't believe I'm so weak. These were perfectly sturdy legs; just a week ago, they ran and jumped and danced in the drawing room. Why aren't they working as they should? It's very unsatisfactory.” He just supported her, then kissed the top of her head.

She didn't notice. “If you would please just help me to the tub, Phillip, I'll be all right then. You can leave.”

“Let's see just how much of your request I can give you.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bathtub. Very slowly, he eased her down at the
side of the tub. She looked up at him then, her eyes clear, and said firmly, “Thank you. I'll be fine now. You can leave now, Phillip.”

“I've no intention of nursing you back to health only to have you drown in a bathtub. Be quiet and hold still.” He held her up with one arm and began to unknot the sash at her waist.

She was trying to keep her balance and slap his hands away at the same time. “Please, don't. I can see to myself, truly I can.”

He knew she was embarrassed. Being unconscious while he cared for her was one thing, but being wide awake, knowing that he was looking at her, well, that was quite another. He sighed deeply. He set her firmly against the side of the tub. “Very well. I'll go see to our dinner. Call me if you get into trouble.”

She grasped the edge of the tub, not even trying to move until he was gone. She heard his boots on the stairs. She got the sash unknotted. She shrugged out of the dressing gown. Then she looked at that tub. The rim seemed higher than it had just a moment before. She tried very hard. The third time she very nearly managed to pull herself over the edge of the tub. She gritted her teeth and concentrated all her energies on climbing over the side. It seemed higher than a mountain. Her fingers suddenly slipped on the edge of the tub, and she yelled as she fell backward onto the floor. She was stunned for a moment, then very cold, the wood hard and icy beneath her back. She had to get up, she had to. She could do it. She wasn't helpless. Very well, she'd lie here quietly, but just for another moment or two.

She heard him coming but she didn't have the strength to even pull the dressing gown over her. Then two strong arms clasped her about the waist and raised her to her feet.

She wished she were unconscious. She even closed her eyes tightly, praying for oblivion. Naturally oblivion wasn't anywhere near.

“It's all right, Sabrina,” Phillip said, and lifted her into the tub.

The blessed hot water swirled up about her chin as he released her. She didn't look at him, she couldn't. She also knew she was being silly, but she couldn't help it. To the best of her memory, Phillip was the first person to ever see her without her clothes on, at least since she reached ten years and didn't need her nanny anymore.

He said easily as he rolled up his sleeves, “I'll wash your hair. Can you wash the rest of you?”

She had to think about that. “I'll try, but I still don't like this.”

“Taking young virgins is not one of my pastimes of choice. Calm yourself and lie still. If you don't have the energy for the rest of you, I'll get to it.” He didn't wait for her to perhaps curse him, which she didn't do well, not having had sufficient models in her young sheltered life. He washed her hair, complaining endlessly “. . . you've got too much hair. Look at all the bald men, you've got enough to cover every bald head in an entire village. There, about done. Now, I'm going to wash the rest of you, then we'll rinse everything at once.”

She didn't try to fight him. No, she just tried to make herself into a small ball, but even that didn't work. When he soaped the sponge and washed her belly, she yelped. He ignored her, efficiently washing the rest of her even while she squirmed about. Actually, he was enjoying himself. Laughter was better than lust. She was an experience in contortions, not in seduction.

“Close your eyes, I'm going to wash your face.”

Her mouth was opening to curse him, very probably, when the soapy sponge rubbed her face. She sputtered and cursed him then. He laughed at the indignant expression in her eyes, the only part of her face that wasn't white with suds.

“Hold your breath, under you go.” He pushed her head into the bathwater. She came up, sputtering for breath.

“You did that on purpose. You're trying to make me mad so I won't be embarrassed. Well, it's working, but I want you to know that I realize that you're manipulating me and I don't know—”

He pushed her head under again.

“Now we've got your hair to deal with.”

When all the soap was finally rinsed from her hair, he wound a towel about her head. He thought briefly about how he could save her further embarrassment, but saw that she was exhausted. If he hadn't come quickly to her, she would have slipped down into the water and drowned in the tub.

He picked her up and eased her down in front of the fire, holding her while he toweled her dry. She hung on to him, knowing she had no choice, not really caring now in any case. She just wanted to collapse onto the warm carpet and sleep until spring. But then something very strange happened. One moment she just wanted to sink into herself. The next moment she felt an awareness of him deep within her. She'd never felt anything like this in her entire eighteen years. She was naked and he wasn't, yet he wasn't doing anything hurtful to her. He was strong. His hands were large and steady as he moved the towel over her. He turned her slightly to dry the front of her. Oddly, she wasn't embarrassed. She stared up at him, into those beautiful eyes of his. It wasn't embarrassment that made her shudder when that towel traveled over her belly.