Thea burst into tears, sobbing on Liam’s shoulder, as he swept his arms around her, holding her tight. “He died for me? He died saving my life?”
“Yes, he did,” Liam muttered in her ear, his hand stroking down her head to her neck. “He had served your family since before you were born, loyal to his bones.”
He had seen Thea cry many times as a child, but seldom as she grew into womanhood. She always appeared stoic, strong, seemingly invincible. Her close brush with death, coupled with the slaying of the footman who died to keep her alive, must have broken through the tight rein she kept on her deepest emotions. True, she displayed anger and laughter, never hiding those, yet she always maintained a solid grip on her tears.
Liam turned his head to gaze at John’s body, glad he could not see what was left of the man’s face. Once was enough for him, for anyone for that matter. He did not know the man well but did know enough about him to understand he had arrived at the Willowdale household to train as a footman when he was but thirteen years old. He had never married and lived for nothing except to serve the family.
“Why did he have to die?” Thea sobbed, her tears wetting Liam’s livery over his chest. “Why?”
“There can be no answer for that, Thea, my love,” Liam whispered. “Why does anyone die? He stepped forward to save you, when he could have cowered and survived. The killer did not want to kill him, or me, only you.”
She wept for long minutes, releasing a torrent of strong emotion that must have been pent up inside her for a very long time. Her sobs, at last, slowed into hiccups and sniffles, then Liam felt her stir in his arms. “May I have the handkerchief, please?”
Taking it from behind her back where it still lay in his fingers, Liam handed it to her, turning his face politely away so she might wipe her face and blow her nose with her useful right hand. “I had intended to use that to wrap your arm,” he commented, feeling a tiny bit amused.
“You can cut some of my petticoat,” she replied into the cloth. “It is old, and almost worn out anyway.”
Picking her up with his arms under her legs and shoulders, Liam set her gently on the rock wall but turned her so she could not look at John’s body without a strong effort. “Just do not get me into trouble with your brother for this,” he muttered, kneeling at her feet.
“I will not speak of it if you do not.”
Thea cradled her injured left arm with her right, her face looking strictly away from the corpse. Liam tore the muslin cloth around its hem with a purring sound, trying not to look at her stockings. Standing up, he brandished the length before her eyes.
“Now I will be as gentle as possible, but it may hurt.”
Thea offered him a strained smile. “I can take it,” she said, echoing his own words.
Liam bowed with a tiny grin. “You are a strong woman, Thea.”
“Flattery will not help you, my love.”
“Perhaps a kiss will.”
Bending, he planted a swift kiss to her lips, tasting the remains of her salty tears on them. Her mouth opened under his, welcoming it, wanting his advances, craving his touch. Probing the tiniest bit with his tongue, he discovered hers reaching for it as they danced together in a sweet harmonious tangle. Then he straightened, concerned that he had perhaps gone too far.
“How dare you take advantage of my wounded person,” Thea demanded with a quirk on her lips.
“Because, my lovely lady, I can.” Liam stroked his finger down her cheek to her chin, thinking back to all the times he had dreamed of doing just that. He stared at her, amazed by her beauty, her strength, and her natural courage.
Thea grinned impudently at him. “My arm?” she asked, holding it up.
Taking advantage, Liam quickly kissed the tip of her nose, then slowly bound her arm with the muslin cloth. He knew it hurt by her sharply indrawn hiss of air, but wrapping it would prevent the bones from rubbing together as he carried her home. Thea breathed deeply as he tied the knot, resting her arm in her lap.
“It feels better already,” she said. “Maybe I can ride if you lift me up.”
“I am sorry, Thea,” Liam said, picking her up in his arms again. “Your mare took off for home. But her presence without you will warn your brother that something is amiss. He will bring people out in force to search for you.”
Being a strong man, Thea’s small weight in his arms was like carrying a young child. He set off at a quick walk across the pasture, following the same path Thea had ridden up less than fifteen minutes ago. The temperature in the air had dropped, and the wind had freshened. He smelled rain on it and hoped he could get her back inside before the storm struck. The dark clouds boiled on the horizon, growing larger in his sight as he followed the path at a pace that would cover ground quickly, yet not jostle her broken arm.
Her right arm around his neck, her face close to his, Liam felt her eyes on his face and glanced at her. “How are you doing?” he asked. “In pain?”
“Not too bad,” she replied, “it throbs, but I can manage it.”
He lengthened his stride, keeping his eyes in the direction where the Willowdale estate house was, yet also watching where he placed his feet. The notion of stumbling over a rock and possibly dropping Thea made him break into a cold sweat. “There is no shelter out here if it starts raining,” he said.
Thea’s fingers stroked his cheek. “Then I expect we will get wet.”
He chuckled. “I suppose so.”
