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‘I have always wanted to do that,’ he confessed, hiccupping faintly himself. ‘I read about it in some novel and decided it was exactly the sort of thing a hero should be able to do, like swinging from the chandelier with a cutlass in my teeth. Naturally, not being a hero, I have never found a use for it.’
‘You are a hero,’ Elinor said, no longer laughing. ‘My hero.’ She was very still in his arms, her eyes wide on his face, their colour darkened to a complex green, far more subtle than their usual hazel.
‘Nell,’ he began, all the caution knocked out of him. ‘Nell, my—’
‘Monsieur?’ The door banged open. ‘Are you all right? I heard a crash. Oh, pardon monsieur.’ The waiter went out again, pulling the door shut behind him with exaggerated care.
‘I must go to bed.’ Elinor slid off his knee, her face averted, every line of her body stiff. ‘I’m very tired.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He sounded equally constrained to his own ears. What had he almost blurted out? Nell, my love? My darling? ‘Have you everything you need?’
‘Thank you, I will be fine.’ She was not fine. She had never been like this with him, but there was nothing to be said that would not make matters worse. Theo lit a candle and passed the chamberstick to her. ‘Sleep well.’
As the door leading to the stairs to their two bedchambers clicked shut, Theo sat down on the settle and stared at the notebook that had fallen to the floor. It lay open at the small sketch of him. His own profile was intent, focused. It was the face of a man completely unaware his life was about to be turned upside down. Whatever happened he must not touch her again, not like that, not in any way but the most everyday and fleeting, because he very much doubted if he could control himself if he did.
Chapter Seventeen
Theo sat for a long time after the footsteps on the boards above his head ceased. Sat while the candles guttered and sent wild shadows across the room. Finally he got to his feet and climbed the stairs stiffly, like a man in pain.
On the small landing that served only their two rooms, light was still visible under her door. He raised a hand to knock, to ask if she was all right, then opened his fist and laid the palm against the door, listening, trying to feel Nell’s presence.
The door jerked open so suddenly he almost fell into the room. ‘Theo?’ She was dressed in her mother’s nightgown, several sizes too large and trailing on the boards, a shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders.
‘Sorry, I had something caught on my boot and I was freeing it.’ He rested a hand on the doorpost and tried to look casual. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘I can’t sleep,’ she said tersely. ‘Every time I close my eyes I’m in that damnable dungeon. I am so cross with myself. We escaped, we won, we are all right, for goodness’ sake. So why am I afraid of the shadows?’
‘Because we could have died,’ he said. ‘And you are intelligent enough to know that and have enough imagination to realise what it would have been like.’
Elinor made a brave attempt at a smile. Theo’s fingers tightened on the door frame. ‘I’m frightened of having nightmares. Eva told me she used to suffer from them, but Sebastian made them go away, by being there. Theo, I’m not used to being frightened of things I can’t do anything about. It is different if you can fight back, but now I’m terrified of sleeping, and I must sleep, sooner or later.’
‘Leave your door open a crack, and I’ll do the same to mine. Then if you cry out in your sleep I’ll hear you and come and wake you,’ he offered. He would fight dragons for her, but how could he fight the ones in her mind?
‘Thank you,’ she said, the smile rather more convincing this time. But she was still frightened, he could see it in the very way she squared her shoulders and her chin came up. This was the woman who had faced death by his side, who had tackled two ruffians for his sake and, now she was afraid, all he could offer was to leave his door open.
Over her shoulder he could see the big bed with its heap of blankets and puffy goose-feather quilt. The landlord had given her the big bed and him a smaller one, presumably calculating that the husband would cross the landing to visit his wife and not the other way around.
‘Would it help if I slept with you?’ Her pupils widened so her eyes went dark. ‘Sleep, Nell. That’s a big bed with lots of covers. You get into the bed, I’ll lie under the quilt. If you are aware of my breathing, know I’m here with you, you will not dream.’
He had no idea whether that was true or not, but if she began to show signs of distress at least he could wake her instantly. ‘I’ll just go and undress.’ He went into his own room before she could say anything and before his own will weakened. It was going to be sheer hell lying next to her, unable to touch her, kiss her, love her. But he had told himself he would fight demons for her. This scaly monster would be his own desires.
Elinor stripped all but one blanket and the sheet off the bed, slid in and turned over, as close to the far edge as she could get. It was a warm night, but now she felt fevered. She had not expected this. She had expected Theo to give her a brisk, reassuring, lecture to the effect that there was nothing to be afraid of, to pull herself together and not be foolish. That was what Mama would have done. It was what she had been telling herself, with singularly little effect, come to that.
The thought of making love with him was beginning to haunt her, but he would never risk touching her like that again, she knew. She loved him so much, and yet she was never going to be able to show him—not without him guessing her feelings. Then he would pity her, perhaps feel he had to renew that offer of marriage, and she would have to refuse again.
He was quick. Her tumbling thoughts unresolved, she lay listening to the sound of bare feet passing over the boards, the click of the door shutting, then the rustle of him sorting through the pile of discarded bedding. The far side of the bed dipped, there was some scuffling and a flapping sound as he shook the cover over himself. Elinor closed her eyes tightly, aware that the candle had been extinguished.
‘You do not have to cling to the edge you know.’ He sounded amused. Elinor shuffled back towards the centre a little. ‘That’s better. I’m told I don’t snore.’
Ana wouldn’t tolerate snoring, I’m sure, Elinor told herself, then smiled, feeling a little better. ‘I’ll prod you in the ribs if you do,’ she replied, trying to make this sound normal. She had feared she would never get to sleep alone; now she was convinced she would be lying awake all night out of sheer embarrassment. ‘Goodnight, Theo.’
‘Goodnight, Nell.’ He turned over once, then seemed to settle immediately, his breathing evening out. She rolled over on to her back and turned her head on the pillow. Beside her in the gloom the big body seemed completely relaxed. There was nothing to be afraid of, nothing that Theo would not protect her from. With a sigh Elinor closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
She woke to find herself lying on her back, hot, pinned under the covers by a heavy weight and with hot breath fanning the back of her neck. Theo. Had she dreamed at all last night? She could not remember. All she could recall was feeling safe and dreadfully self-conscious. Now, in the dreamy after-sleep state she still felt safe, and not in the slightest bit uncomfortable.
Elinor blinked her eyes open and tur
ned her head on the pillow. It was still early, she could tell from the quality of the light through the thin cotton curtain. It shone on the bed, turning Theo’s hair the red-gold of autumn leaves and highlighting the dark stubble over his chin and cheeks. It would not take much for him to grow a beard, she thought fondly, wondering how it would feel if she touched it.
