Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

D iana forced the nanny to sit on the edge of the fountain before the poor woman collapsed. “Wait here. I will find her.”

“Oh—but—” Mrs. Chesterfield protested.

The rain came across the gardens again in another violent torrent, and Diana felt her dress grow heavy from it.

“On second thought, go back to the house at once and inform Lady Lennox that I am searching for Isla.”

“I should come and help—” Mrs. Chesterfield tried to fix her dampened bonnet. This woman clearly adored her little charge, yet Diana felt the woman should not risk herself in this weather.

“Please go inside. Lady Lennox must know the child is missing. If she is caught in the storm, she will need dry clothes, warm blankets, and a fire in the nursery. Please arrange for those to be ready for us when we return.”

Mrs. Chesterfield wiped away rain and tears from her face. “All right.” Once she was on her way, Diana began her search in earnest.

“Isla!” she called as she ran deeper into the garden. She peered under every branch, behind every cluster of roses, and still there was no sign of the child. She reached the end of the gardens and faced a vast rolling hill far below. There! She spotted a flash of a blue-and-white pinafore among the gold grass.

“Isla!” She hoisted up her skirts and sprinted through the knee-high grass. The child was so far away. A crash of thunder and lightning sent a spiral of fresh terror through her. The earth shook beneath her with the force of the thunder, and she almost stumbled down the hill. But Diana recovered her balance. The last few years of work with her servants had strengthened both her body and her spirit. She kept going until she found Isla, eyes closed, clutching her doll.

“Mama!” the child wailed. Diana knelt down to put her arms around the child and pulled her close against her chest.

“Shhh, it’s all right, darling.” The surge of protective instincts she now felt stunned her. She’d stopped thinking about children years ago, around the same time she’d stopped hoping for a love match.

“Mama,” Isla whispered again and burrowed into her.

“What were you doing out here?” Diana asked as they hunched down in the grass, trying to find some temporary shelter.

“Mrs. Crumpet told me to take a turn, and I got lost. I couldna find Nanny again.”

Isla cried harder after her confession. Diana’s chest ached with the need to protect the little girl.

A sudden brilliant flash followed by the crack of exploding wood made Diana dive to the ground, covering the little girl with her body. Her ears felt as though they’d been stuffed with cotton. She couldn’t hear anything after, except for a loud, dull ringing. Lightning must have struck a tree.

Her mind tried to process the immediate danger. It wasn’t safe to stand, let alone make a run for the house. She’d been told as a child to stay low outside during a storm and never to stand under trees. One of the field workers who’d worked part of her family’s lands had been struck by lightning while taking shelter under a tree.

“It’s all right,” she soothed. Isla had gone very quiet but was trembling hard beneath Diana’s body. “We must stay here until it is safe to move.”

A deep bellow echoed across the meadow and seemed to shake the clouds above them. “Isla!”

Diana raised her head. A tall figure was coming toward them at a fast sprint through the thick, wet grass. Rafe Lennox.

“Go back! It’s too dangerous!” she screamed. If he risked running to them, he might die. As if the storm heard her warning, she felt the air sizzle around them, and the air smelled strange. Another strike was coming...

“No!”

His gaze locked on Diana’s as he seemed to realize the danger, but it was too late to turn back. She saw his determination to protect his child, which outweighed everything else. He dove forward, his body hitting the slick grass on the steep hill.

A blast of pure white blinded her vision, and thunder deafened her ears once more. Through the haze of her disorientation, she managed to raise her head, afraid to see Rafe lying dead in front of her. But he was running again, no more than a dozen yards away and closing in fast. He had flattened himself just in time, but now?—

He slid, feetfirst, straight toward her and skidded right to a stop beside them and threw his body around hers and Isla’s. An instant later, another bolt struck part of the gardens far above them. His muscled arms banded around them both like iron.

“Stay down,” he commanded. Diana shifted beneath his body, making sure Isla was fully shielded. They lay there, the three of them so flat beneath the raging storm, counting the seconds between the lightning and the thunder for what felt like an eternity before Rafe dared to move.

“The storm’s moving north,” he said. “I believe we can make a run for it now.” Diana raised her head, their noses brushing as she looked up at him.

“Are you certain?”

Rafe nodded. Rain dripped down his nose, and droplets coated his dark-gold lashes. His wet blond hair fell across his eyes, which held such storms as to rival the skies above.

“I’ve been out in many storms. This one is done with us for now.”

Diana wanted to stay where they were to be absolutely sure, but Isla was cold and shaking.

“I think you are right. We must get Isla inside.” She kept her tone quiet as she spoke to Rafe. His eyes narrowed as he assessed his child.

“Give her to me. I will carry her.” He stood, and Diana uncovered the little girl enough to slide her into her father’s arms.

“Isla?” Rafe whispered. His daughter’s eyes were closed. She shook hard as she lay limp against his chest. He glanced at Diana then, his face showing clearly what he wanted to do.

“I only wish I could carry you as well.” It was beautifully noble of him, but foolish. The child was ill and mattered far more than she did.

“Take her and go, quickly! I’ll be fine.” Diana shoved at him when he still hesitated. “Go!”

Rafe sprinted back up the hill with Isla in his arms. Diana lifted her skirts and started after him, albeit more slowly. With the benefit of longer legs and breeches, he made it to the house far quicker than she could.

By the time she reached the back terrace, a footman rushed out to meet her, carrying a large white cloth that he draped around her wet shoulders.

“Miss Fox, a bath has been prepared in one of the guest bedchambers for you. I will show you the way now, if you like.”

“Thank you, but I would like to see Isla first. Is she all right?”

“The child is... not well. Lord Lennox rode for the doctor. He will be back as soon as he can.” The footman’s face was pale with concern. It was clear everyone in this house adored Isla.

She grasped the footman’s hand in earnest. “Please let me see her straightaway.”

He finally relented. “I will take you. She is in the nursery.” He led Diana up the stairs and down the hall. Towering tapestries adorned the walls, depicting sunny gardens and bright summer days, a stark contrast to the gloom of the skies outside.

The footman paused at a door and knocked. “Mr. Lennox, it’s Miss Fox. She is here to see the child.”

“Let her come,” Rafe’s voice called out after a few seconds.

When the footman opened the door, Diana passed into the room and she was startled to find Rafe sitting on the floor with Isla close to the fire. The little girl had been changed into a clean white nightgown and was bundled up in thick woolen blankets.

Rafe held the girl in his lap, his arms wrapped around her as he kept her close enough to the fire for warmth. His blue eyes shimmered with tears as they met Diana’s gaze. She eased down onto the stone floor beside him. He was in shock, that much Diana could see. His face was white and his lips parted as he drew in shallow breaths. The child in his hold was quiet, but her trembling had lessened.

“How is she?” Diana asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe blinked, his gaze seemingly lost on her face. “She is unwell... and I don’t know what to do to help her.”

“I was told the doctor is coming. Lord Lennox is going to fetch him?”

Rafe nodded. “Yes, Ash will bring him back. He will fix it.” He seemed to have complete faith in his brother. Diana envied him that unbroken trust in a sibling. She’d thought Eleanor would always be close to her, but when she ran away and eloped, no letters ever arrived, nothing to tell her what had become of her.

Why hadn’t she written at least one letter? The thought stung Diana deep, because she could think of only one reason. Her beloved sister must be dead. She would not have gone so silent unless something terrible had happened.

Rafe’s voice broke through her melancholia. “Thank you...”

“Hmm?”

He let out a shivering breath. “ You saved her. I had just returned to the terrace and Rosalind looked terrified. She said Isla was missing and you went after her. I feared the worst. I...” He cuddled the child close, tucking the blankets up under her chin.

Diana tried to smile, but her body ached with the cold of the storm settling in her bones.

“You could’ve been killed,” she replied. “You shouldn’t have run down to us on the field like that.”

A hard steel look cast his features in stone. “I would never fail my child. Never .”

She knew then that someone had failed this poor man long ago. Had it been his mother or his father? Diana wasn’t sure if it was the weight of her soaked dress or the frightening intensity of Rafe’s vow, but a shudder racked her. This child was loved, deeply, fiercely . Rafe was a father who would do anything for his child, even surrender his own life.

“May I sit with you and wait for the doctor?” Diana asked.

He didn’t answer—he simply reached out with one hand and clasped her fingers in a firm hold, not letting go.

That single touch changed something in her. It almost felt like she was home. For the first time in more than a month, she didn’t think of Tyburn and his kisses. She thought only of this man... and the ferocity of his love, even though it wasn’t meant for her.

Rafe watched the doctor examine his daughter, numb in a way he’d only felt once before. Dr. Rainsgate was a spry and hardily built man in his mid-thirties. He wasn’t afraid of storms, and he had raced up the stairs to the nursery straightaway upon his arrival. Now Rafe held his breath, frightened beyond imagining what the man would say.

Isla was sitting up in her bed, yet she looked half-asleep as the doctor listened to her heart. He sighed and set his instruments back in his medical bag.

“I believe the shock of the storm is what has made the deepest impact on the child, rather than the rain and chill. Keep her warm, feed her hardy broths with chicken for a day. Do not starve her. If she is hungry, feed her. If she is not, make her eat a little bit. And keep her drinking water. She must not go too long without water.” He stood and faced the people who now filled the room. Ash and Rosalind stood behind Rafe, and Mrs. Chesterfield hovered nearby. Diana was at his side, and her presence gave him a strange sense of peace, as though all would be well so long as she was with him.

“Thank you, Dr. Rainsgate,” said Rafe.

“I shall return tomorrow to see how she fares,” the doctor said.

“Let me see you out, Doctor.” Ashton held out a hand toward the door and followed the doctor out of the chamber.

Rosalind gave Rafe’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she left. “I’ll speak to the cook and have some broth and milk brought up in a short while. If you and Diana need anything else, just pull the bell cord. The footmen have been notified to be ready.”

Mrs. Chesterfield sat down in her chair by Isla’s bed and took the little girl’s hand as the child lay back down to sleep.

“Rest now, little one,” the nanny soothed and tucked the girl in. Rafe’s chest tightened, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

He could have lost her, lost his little girl. That frightful truth held him pinned in place, unable to move, to think. The thought of life without Isla was... no life at all. She’d saved him in a way he hadn’t known he’d needed, and to fail her as he had, by not thinking of the danger of the storm and immediately taking her back inside? His failure had almost killed his child. And now he had yet another thing to lose if he wasn’t careful—the woman standing beside him.

“You should change out of your wet clothes, Mr. Lennox,” Diana said, and her voice startled him. “You’ve been in them too long now, and we cannot have you fall ill.”

“ Rafe —you called me Rafe in the storm.” He gazed at the remarkable woman beside him. His little thief, his shining star... his fierce, protective fire drake.

Her face flushed. “I’m terribly sorry for the breach of propriety. I wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment. But still, I shouldn’t have?—”

“ Rafe ,” he said softly. “I am Rafe to you, now and always .” He reached for her hand and lifted it to his cheek, pressing her icy fingers to his skin before he kissed them. It was on his lips to reveal that he was her shadow lover, that she could trust him now, just as she had last night when he’d played the part of Tyburn. But something kept him silent. He wanted to earn her trust as himself, not as the wild rogue he’d become out of dire necessity. He wanted to be loved for himself, not for the dangerous life he no longer wished to lead.

Lord, if Ashton ever found out that he was thinking of love like this, he’d laugh himself silly.

“Rafe, then,” Diana agreed, and the sound of his name on her lips charged his soul as if he had been struck by lightning.

“You need to change,” she reminded him. “If you wish to remain at her bedside, she will need her father fit and well.”

“I can’t leave her—” he started.

“I will stay here until you return. Between Mrs. Chesterfield and myself, we shall keep her safe.”

He hesitated a moment until Diana squeezed his hand. Then he let go of her fingers and rushed to his chamber to change.

When he returned, he found Diana had moved two chairs next to the little girl’s bed, and she occupied one of them.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

He nodded. “Immeasurably. Now it is your turn.”

She shrugged one shoulder as if she didn’t care about her soaked state. Damp strands of her long dark hair clung to her shoulders, yet she didn’t seem to notice. “I have nothing to change into, and I am quite all right. It isn’t the first time I’ve been soaked to the bone.”

No, it certainly wasn’t. She’d been drenched the night he’d abducted her and taken her to the lodge, but he’d insisted on getting her out of the clothes, just as he would now.

Rafe looked Diana over from head to foot. “You and Rosalind are of a similar size. I’m quite sure she would lend you a dressing gown.” He began to leave, but she caught his wrist.

“Rafe, please don’t trouble her. She’s been so wonderful to help me already.”

“Help you? With what?”

She hesitated. “It is something of a personal nature. I couldn’t possibly ask for another favor.”

“Nonsense. You saved my daughter . Isla is Rosalind’s niece. She would do anything for you, as would I.” He meant it. Whatever concerns he’d had about whether Diana could fit into his and Isla’s lives had been answered by her valiant actions. He and his family owed her everything.

I shall marry you one day , Diana .

“Wait here. I shall return in a moment.” He found a footman in the corridor and instructed him to seek out Rosalind and ask to borrow a spare dressing gown, then returned to the nursery and sat beside Diana in a silent vigil at Isla’s bedside.

When Diana returned, she wore a dark-blue dressing gown bound loose at her waist with a white sash tied into a ribbon at the back. Her hair was damp, loose tendrils curling around her face and down her shoulders.

She looked as wild and untamed as the night he’d taken her from that coach. That night he’d had his way with her, and she’d been passionate, wild, out of control. But now... now he wanted only the feel of her hand in his and the promise that her soft brown eyes held if he dared to wrap his arms around her—but as Rafe and not her wicked Tyburn.

He held out his hand. When she took it, he wanted to pull her onto his lap to cuddle her. It was hard to remember that she didn’t know that he was secretly Tyburn. Only Tyburn was free to kiss her, to make love to her. Rafe was bound by other rules, and he dared not break them, lest he lose her.

To her, Rafe was still a stranger, and he could frighten her away by pulling her onto his lap and kissing her with the adoration and gratitude he held in his heart. So he contented himself with holding on to her hand as they watched his child sleep.

It was close to midnight when color returned to Isla’s cheeks and her breathing deepened. Some of the tension coiled tight within Rafe finally eased.

“Miss Fox is asleep, Mr. Lennox,” the nanny whispered. “You should take her to bed. She needs her rest.”

He realized Diana’s head was now leaning against his shoulder, her arm loosely entwined with his. He smiled. The warmth inside his chest made him feel drowsy with happiness but also a hint of bittersweetness that he could not explain. As though he would lose all this far too soon.

“You’re right, Mrs. Chesterfield. Thank you. I will be back momentarily.”

“You should rest too, Mr. Lennox. I can stay. You’ll do the wee child no good if you are half-dead.”

He turned and caught Diana in his arms, then stood to carry her out of the room. One of the footmen was still awake and walking down the corridor.

“Which room did Rosalind have prepared for Miss Fox?” he asked.

“The Garden Room.”

“Thank you.” Rafe carried his sleeping charge down the corridor, just past his own room. It was one of the prettier rooms, designed for ladies with pale-green walls and lavish flowers printed in chaotic but lovely gold patterns against the green satin wallpaper.

He laid Diana down on the bed, where she roused slightly.

“What’s happening?” Diana wiped her eyes and tried to sit up. “Where is Isla?”

“She is faring much better now.” Rafe’s throat was suddenly tight as he realized her first thoughts had been of his child. “You and I have been ordered by Mrs. Chesterfield to rest. Sleep. We will send word to Foxglove about what has happened and inform them that you will remain here tonight.”

Diana blinked slowly, then lay back in the bed as he pulled the blankets up around her body, tucking her in as though she were a child.

“Were you truly a rakehell?” Diana asked in a whisper. “You seem far too”—she yawned—“ lovely ... to be so dangerous.”

Her lashes fell closed, and he knew she was asleep.

She thought him lovely? Why did that make his heart swell and make him want to chuckle at the same time?

His chest clenched as he gazed down at her. This firebrand of a woman turned into a helplessly sweet kitten when she felt safe, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like a hero.

Rafe leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, wanting so much more and knowing he couldn’t dare.

“Soon,” he whispered instead. “ Soon .”

He put a fresh log on the newly lit fire, secured the fire grate around it, and walked back to his own bedchamber to sleep alone.